The first of the trio is 1965's War-Gods of the Deep, a film loosely based on a story by Edgar Allan Poe (City in the Sea). The film follows heartthrob Tab Hunter as he goes beneath the sea in search of his kidnapped girlfriend, played by Susan Hart. What he finds below the surface is a legendary city beneath the sea lorded over by the ageless Vincent Price. Thus begins a battle of wills as the two men struggle to retain the girl and Hunter attempts to return to the surface.
War-Gods of the Deep is a fairly hokey action adventure film in the vein of many such adventure films of the early to mid '60s. While I was watching this film, I was reminded of the tone and sense of humor of the (vastly superior) work of Ray Harryhausen like The Mysterious Island or even Henry Levin's Journey to the Center of the Earth. However, while those films reveled in their ability to manufacture scope, War-Gods of the Deep is plainly hindered by a pretty small budget and not a whole lot of vision.
In 1965, AIP and Price had just concluded their wildly successful series of Roger Corman directed Poe adaptations. I suspect that War-Gods of the Deep was an attempt to maintain that momentum by putting Price in familiar outfits, and familiar locations while doing it without the help or ability of Corman. What is interesting is that AIP didn't hire some hack to attempt this film, the enlisted Jacques Tourner, a filmmaker best known these days for his stellar work as a director for producer Val Lewton on films like Cat People. However, the lack of funds on this film appears to have hindered it significantly, even if it remains a campy bit of fun for those with lively imaginations.
Shot almost entirely on dark, dank sets with only occasional attempts to liven up the environs, War-Gods of the Deep suffers most from claustrophobia. While the human characters of this film are logically trapped within the watertight buildings below the surface, there are some ridiculous looking slimy gill people populating the water on the outside, largely via really awful looking compositing (a sign of the times, more than the budget). Nevertheless, the lively dialogue and intense charisma of Price and wide-eyed enthusiasm of Hunter carry the film and make it engaging in spite of its shortcomings. It isn't until an overlong chase sequence at the end that the momentum really drags significantly. While modern kids may watch War-Gods of the Deep and be bored before the first reel ends, viewers of a certain age will find comfort in this offbeat little adventure film.
The Disc:
Kino's Blu-ray of War-Gods of the Deep looks pretty great considering its age and budget. Colors are distinct, clarity is better than I would have expected, and the image suffers from fairly little damage, a fine presentation. The audio is also surprisingly good, though, of course, a 2.0 presentation on a film from 1965 is thankfully free from surround remix. In terms of extras we are treated to a jovial interview with star Tab Hunter in which he expresses his love of the experience moreso than the film itself. It turns out he was a huge Vincent Price fan and that was a large part of his agreeing to the role in the first place. Overall, this is a very fun film, but if your patience is short, or you aren't a fan of the rhythms of mid '60s adventure films, you might find it trying.
Here's where these releases get interesting.
In the '50s Vincent Price's name became synonymous with the horror genre following a couple of very successful films with William Castle (The House on Haunted Hill, The Tingler). He'd toyed around in the genre before that with films like House of Wax, and even played villainous roles in classic Noir films like Laura and Shock, but it wasn't until his collaborations with Castle that he really solidified his place in Hollywood.
Immediately after those Castle films, Price was hired by Roger Corman and AIP to star in a series of gothic films based on the work of Edgar Allan Poe, and it was these films that made truly created his persona in the film world. He took these roles in moderate budget features and imbued them with a humanity that gave his villainous turns a kind of depth that no other actor could have provided. Even when he was bad, he was just so damned alluring that it's impossible to take your eyes off of him, and what's more, that voice of his is utterly entrancing no matter who you are.
However, as it does for all men, time marched on, and the kind of Gothic horror that Price was making in the early '60s had become quaint by the latter part of that tumultuous decade. So, as the times changed, Vincent Price's villainous roles also took on a more sinister bent. His role in 1967's House of 1,000 Dolls was just the start of the new Vincent Price.
House of 1,000 Dolls is a story of white slavery, as Kino puts it:
Two professional illusionists Felix Manderville (Vincent Price, Madhouse) and his wife Rebecca (Martha Hyer, Houseboat) help abduct unsuspecting female victims with their magic tricks for an international ring of white slave traders. While vacationing in Tangiers, American businessman (George Nader, The Million Eyes of Su-Muru) and his wife (Anne Smyrner, Reptilicus) are drawn into a kidnapping plot when their friend (Maria Rohm, Count Dracula) becomes the underground ring's latest victim. Running against time, they only have a couple of days to find her before she's gone for good. Harry Alan Towers (The Mangler) under his usual pseudonym Peter Welbeck wrote the screenplay for this top-notch thriller directed by Jeremy Summers (The Vengeance of Fu Manchu).
The film, produced by Harry Alan Towers, turned Price into a much more fearsome villain than he'd been in the films before. Not so much because he was violent, it simply placed him in a much more nefarious role than those he'd played previously and it worked for him. Gone were the sexy villains of the Poe cycle, here was a man who meant business. Producer Towers would go on to produce films with similar thematic elements by Spanish luminary Jesus Franco, so he definitely knew his job, but this film is a bit slow and, again, largely recommendable on the sheer force of Vincent Price's charisma, which is a shame because there are large chunks of the film where he's nowhere to be found.
The Disc:
Unfortunately, Kino's Blu of House of 1,000 Dolls is less successful than War-Gods. The disc is much less sharp, and the colors just seem odd. I watched this one on a smaller screen than usual, so that may have affected my opinion, but it's definitely a step down from the other two films in any case. What is quite good, however, is the sole extra, a feature length commentary from "monster kid" David Del Valle and director David DeCoteau (Sorority Babes in the Slimeball Bowl-o-rama). These two are very informative, with Del Valle's lengthy history of interviewing and befriending members of the horror community, he's able to rattle off a story for every occasion, and DeCoteau is a big fan and scholar of these films, so it's nice to hear him pitch in and spur Del Valle on. They do go on a rather lengthy Jess Franco rant (spoiler: Del Valle doesn't seem to be a huge fan), but overall their commentary was probably more engaging than the actual film. I'm a Price fanatic, so this is a must own for me, otherwise, perhaps one for completists only.
The last of this trio is 1974's Madhouse. The interesting thing about these three films is that they mark very specific points in Vincent Price's evolution as a horror film character. Where House of 1,000 Dolls is our introduction to Price in a nastier role, Madhouse comes near the tail end of a series of films that would see him grow increasingly fearsome. From Dolls, Price went on to make the incredibly dark Witchfinder General, and then move into his more comical horror tales like Theatre of Blood (which Madhouse is not unlike) and the Dr. Phibes films. These films all had something that his earlier, pre-War-Gods of the Deep films didn't have: lots and lots of blood. Madhouse is no different. Here's Kino's apt description:
Masters of macabre Vincent Price (Tales of Terror), Peter Cushing (The Creeping Flesh) and Robert Quarry (Count Yorga, Vampire) give terrifying performances to die for in this diverting little chiller. When horror star Paul Toombes' fiance is brutally killed, he loses more than this job - he also loses his mind. But twelve years after suffering a nervous breakdown, the washed-up horror legend (Price) agrees to do a TV-series based on his old screen creation, the monstrous a Dr. Deatha. Soon the cast and crew of the series begin dying in ways similar to the deaths the characters suffered in the actor's old movies.
Chock full of stock footage from Price's Poe films, and adding Peter Cushing and Count Yorga's Robert Quarry to the cast, Madhouse is an interesting addition to Price's oeuvre. The concept of an actor murdering people, or appearing to murder people, was well explored in Theatre of Blood, which is one of my favorite Price performances, but this attempt was a bit less successful.
Madhouse was one of Price's last pure horror films. After this he largely stayed away from straight horror films, and really only jumped back in for appearances in high concept films like The Monster Club and Edward Scissorhands. It's pretty clear, even through his monstrous charisma, that he was tiring of the genre, especially after having portrayed largely the same roles for almost 20 years. As a result, Madhouse feels a bit cobbled together. Each of the three leads seem to be fighting for superiority, and Price seems more than happy to cede that position to the "up and coming" Quarry, who'd only been working in features full-time for a few years.
There are some quality kills, and the film has some of the humor that made Price's films so enjoyable over the previous decade or so, but overall it falls flat. Every film is different from every other film in some ways, but when you go back to the well like Madhouse does with the concept of Theatre of Blood, you'd better have something special to make it stand out, and Madhouse just doesn't. That being said, Price and Cushing are a joy to watch no matter what the circumstances, and I'll be revisiting this film sooner than House of 1,000 Dolls, that's for sure.
The Disc:
Kino's Blu-ray of Madhouse is pretty wonderful in spite of the varying levels of quality regarding the source material. Much of the stock footage comes from previous Price films, and those sections are in significantly poorer shape than the original sequences. However, those pieces are few and far between, and the original sequences look pretty damned good on my big screen.
Madhouse also wins the prize for the best extras of this trio. Not only do we get another entertaining, informative, and engaging commentary from David Del Valle who is able to give us not only information about the production and the performers, but also amazing personal tidbits regarding almost everyone we see onscreen, but there is also a great little featurette on the disc as well. This mini-documentary may be only 10 minutes, but it's absolutely packed with information regarding the making of this film. Completely worth your time. Definite recommendation from me!