Romance of Mystery

Directed by Oswald Mitchell
Written by John Gilling
Starring Tod Slaughter, Henry Oscar, Patrick Addison, Ann Trego, Aubrey Woods, Arnold Bell, and Jenny Lynn
"I�ll be seein� that you join her. Don�t be fearin� that you won�t."
The story begins in 19th century Edinburgh, but we hardly have time to process this as we�re flung right into the action from the opening credits through an uncomfortable jump cut. The setting is a seedy tavern, mostly occupied by guffawing medical students easing their hours of intense study with some cool pints of golden goodness. Right outside the pub we see the broad William Hart (Tod Slaughter) promptly berate some poor wench with both words and fists before he heads in himself. There he spots his ally and co-conspirator Mr. Moore (Henry Oscar, the man with two first names!) whom he calls upon to begin plotting foul deeds and dirty crimes.
A barfly informs the sneering Hart that the local sergeant was calling on him earlier to question the wretch about the disappearance of some chap named Joe, who had been renting a room from Hart. Hart�s elusive about the matter, but we can see he definitely knows more than he�s letting on through his toothy grin. Moore�s a little wary of Hart�s new plan, which apparently involves the two intercepting a jailbird right when he�s due to be released from the pen. But Hart comforts his partner, spitting that it�ll be as "easy as killing pigs."
Moore then begins sweet talking little Mary Patterson who swaggers at the bar and is probably one shot away from orally evacuating her intestines. Janet Brown (Ann Trego), a friend of Mary�s, attempts to dissuade her gal pal from leaving with Moore for dinner at his house, but the sauced mistress insists on hitting the road. Sensing that trouble is afoot, Janet beseeches town simpleton "Daft" Jamie Wilson (Aubrey Woods) to relay a message to her beau telling him that she has finally found Mary and that she may be in danger of being turned into a skin suit.
Yes, we are those badasses you heard about.
Janet eventually makes it to the tenement of her honey Hugh Alston (Patrick Addison), but the man�s cantankerous caretaker insists that the two converse right outside the front door to ensure that there�s no hanky panky going on upstairs. The distressed maiden relates all the sordid details of the evening to Hugh, saying that Mary was taken away to the dark, infamous corners of the Gibbs Close neighborhood, a breeding ground for the resurrectionists who dig up cadavers for medical school doctors to use in the anatomical dissection labs. Much to Hugh�s chagrin, Janet insists that she must be the one to approach Hart and Moore as the sight of Hugh would set off the alarm.
Back in Gibbs Close, Hart exasperatedly sighs that they must pick a man for their next victim, since the nice coats that he steals from all the dead chicks don�t fit his healthy-sized pot belly! Just as the two get finished stuffing the significantly condensed remains (wink wink) of Mary into a trunk, Janet knocks at the door and enters the den of the body snatchers. Janet is uneasy, especially since the grinning Hart sizes her up with his sooty fingers and Moore pours a little hair of the dog to give the lass a good burn in the throat.
Saying that Mary had gone for a walk (yeah, maybe to the butcher�s), Hart is interrupted when Hugh barges in just before the two can claim another victim for the night. The dashing hero calls the duo a pair of liars, threatening to sic the law on them if they attempt any funny business. Jamie shows up later, as he is the personal deliveryman for Hart and Moore who gets the privilege of hauling around bloody woman carcass for a small sum of money. Poor Moore is afraid of death at the gallows, though, while Hart is disappointed by the sad waste of space from the trunk. They could�ve easily fit two bodies in there. Just like Slaughter�
Later at the medical college, Moore and Hart harass the elder Patterson, assistant to Dr. Cox (Arnold Bell), for their money and the doctor�s presence. Of course Hugh would just have to show up, stirring up more conflicts with the two scumbags and even getting personal by telling Hart he�s a murderous swine whose cowardice forces him to only kill little old ladies and helpless women. He should really lay off; Moore and Hart are only their to collect their dues for slaughtering an innocent but very drunk bar wench and selling her odds and ends for the betterment of science. What�s so wrong about THAT? The police haven�t been any help to Hugh so he�s taken the law into his own hands to bring Hart and Moore down.
I'm a little new to this "burking" thing. Is it anything like the reverse cowgirl?
Then here comes Jamie, off-handedly referring to the "merchandise" he transported for the gents and instantly arousing Hugh�s suspicions. Just then old Patterson comes stumbling into the room, stammering of some gory horror he had witnessed upon opening the trunk (Mary was his niece, you see). Turns out the cadaver�s head is missing, but Patterson is certain that the chop suey in the trunk is his darling Mary, although he doesn�t admit this as Hart shoots some crazy eyes in his direction. Cox then enters the room and verbally slaps his assistant upside the head for being a fearful and superstitious fool. Patterson, tortured with guilt over his implication in the resurrectionists� crimes, calls Cox blasphemous and leaves in a shouting fit.
Cox decides to break the awkward silence by marveling at Jamie�s skeletal structure in a none-too-inconspicuous manner, making the doctor�s association with Hart and Moore all the more apparent to Hugh. But Cox tries to settle Hugh�s mind by telling him that his experimentation with corpses is to improve man�s understanding of science, narrating a tale to Hugh of how he could have saved a homicidal idiot from execution if only he had known the proper procedure to remove a splinter from the skull that was causing the brute to kill. Cool story, doc.
Hugh�s all for science (he�s probably a closeted chemist) but he doesn�t condone the utilization of ghouls and other lowlifes to obtain bodies through dubious means. He believes Hart and Moore removed the head in order to obscure Mary�s identity and again warns that he�ll get the police. Cox promptly blows all this crap off his shoulder and tells Hart and Moore that he wants young Jamie on his operating table. And don�t worry, because they know of just the right means to get him�
Hugh attempts to consult with Sergeant Fisher at the local precinct, but the lawman says that definite proof is needed to bring the body snatchers in, even it means that another poor devil might have to meet death at their hands. He does reassure Hugh by saying that, after their tremendous streak of success thus far, the criminals are due to slip up on their perfected formula soon. Just on his way to the pub to fetch some supper, Jamie is prompted by Mrs. Helen Moore (Jenny Lynn, Tod Slaughter�s real life wife!) to come to her husband�s abode for a little get together with drinks and merriment. There Hart is insanely drunk, and he promises the dismayed Jamie that his pal Hughie will be showing later to join in on the absent festivities.
Willie then sends his wife Meg out to the market to fetch some groceries, literally throwing her out onto the street by the scrap of her threadbare shawl. Waking up the slumbering Moore, Hart and his partner pour glasses all around for the three chaps to toast with. Although the acrid odor of the drink offends his nostrils, Jamie drinks up anyway and is soon in the agonizing throes of death. With the sap now passed his expiration date from a large dose of rat poison, Hart and Moore plan to profit off of the hide of their former delivery boy. But not before Willie can snatch Jamie�s coat and slap Mrs. Moore around. All in a day�s work.
More Ovaltine, please!
Mrs. Hart arrives back at the squalid home, rightfully worried that her husband and his accomplice did something unspeakable to Jamie. Oh, look at that. Jamie�s stiff remains are propped up in the closet/bedroom that comprises 70% of the house. Pleading old Mrs. Dockerty (an elderly biddy who was apparently pulled out of Mrs. Hart�s ass) to inform Hugh Alston of the murder as soon as possible. Of course Hart and Moore don�t take too kindly to this treason, and Hart axes the locked door down Jack Torrance-style to give his wife a good thrashing. Dockerty asks barkeep Swanson of Hugh�s whereabouts and heads into the foggy streets when she can�t find him. Moore watches on as Hart goes in to intercept, looming upon the woman as a giant, brooding shadow before snapping her neck in two (as the crackling sound effects seem to suggest, anyhow).
Sergeant Fisher walks in on the scene just as Hart cradles the rumpled form in his arms, the ghouls informing the policeman that the old gal had a wee bit too much to drink and that they, ever the Good Samaritans, are returning her home. When Hugh arrives shortly afterward and hears the news from Swanson, he begins to suspect foul play upon listening to Fisher�s story. The two then head straight for the medical school, suspecting that Moore and Hart brought the body there to be dissected immediately. The chilly bones of the bar patrons have been heated by their growing suspicions and hunger for vengeance over the disappearances in town, particularly that of Jamie Wilson. I hope you have your pitchforks ready, because dere�s a mob a-brewin� in dis heah town!
Just when Moore and Hart think they can put their feet up after a long day of murder and mayhem, Hugh and Fisher come pounding on the front door of their humble abode. The kooky Mrs. Moore assures Hart and Moore that Jamie�s body is out in the gutter, hidden underneath some garbage before the Hugh and Fisher are allowed in. Hugh confronts the duo with the evidence, but the sly Moore says that old Mrs. Dockerty had put up a fit, kicking and screaming, forcing the two gents to drop her off on the sidewalk before they could take her home. Not defeated by Moore�s imagination, Hugh wryly comments on Hart�s lovely coat� a parcel of clothing that Hugh had given to Jamie himself and who was wearing it that very morning before his disappearance.
By the time the Christmas turkey was ready to be carved, there were only three people left living at the Slaughter household.
Inflated with confidence, Hart snarls that the two men should search the entire house if they so please, and even swings the doors open to the bedroom to prove his innocence. And whaddaya know, there�s ol� Jamie lying up in bed and whiter than the sheets he�s tucked into. Hart is shaking in his pants now as he faces certain death at the gallows for practically showing off the corpse to the cops. Seeking a quick way out of this plight, Hart eagerly sells Moore and his wife out, placing all the blame for the crimes on them.
The screaming and squirming Moores are placed under arrest just as Janet arrives to inform Hugh of the bloodthirsty mob outside the front door. And the only way out of the house is a twenty foot drop out back. Uh oh. Hart begins to have second thoughts, shrieking his preference for arrest over facing the vigilantes. The grave robber�s pleas fall on deaf ears and he�s duly thrown out by Hugh into the awaiting hands of the gang as they pummel his body with staff and spear.
One thing that can be said about Horror Maniacs (a.k.a. The Greed of William Hart, its original U.K. title) is that it is one strange bird indeed. Feeling more like an episode for a horror anthology series than a fully fleshed out film, Horror Maniacs suffers a bit from a low boiling point and generally uninteresting characters. Add to that the fact that the copy I had of the film was of poor quality and it made for a dissatisfying viewing experience; the picture was very muddied and dark and the sound was a tad garbled at times. I�ve seen pieces of the film in a much more cleaned-up medium, and I think I can honestly say my enjoyment for Horror Maniacs might have improved if the overall quality was just tidied up, as superficial as that might sound.
But the film is hampered by things beyond the realms of sound and sight. Tod Slaughter is here to reprise the very role that brought him infamous stardom on the stages of Britain as the bloodthirsty corpse stealer William Hare. But you won�t find any of the actor�s lip-smacking villainy at work here too often; Slaughter�s regulated to more of a supporting role, despite receiving top billing. Noticeably older, Slaughter brings his menace down to a minimum here and let�s his depravity leak out in small, slimy doses here and there.
As opposed to playing the eccentric aristocrat as he did in other films, Slaughter is a blue-collar murderer in this movie, working as one of the dredges of society to earn his keep in this mad rat race of life. I really respect the mood Slaughter�s invoking here, but I can�t help but feel a longing for his snicker-snackering baddies. This grittier, more realistic approach would be fine, but when you couple that with a shockingly low amount of screen time, you�re left with a handful of unfulfilled potential and "could-have-beens."
No, giving someone your unwanted bastard child is a HORRIBLE Secret Santa gift!
Don�t think that Horror Maniacs is completely devoid of redeeming qualities. Tod still has moments to shine, like in his scenes of drunken assery and the little moments where he�s allowed to bring the menace up a few notches by stalking old women or feeling up the young ladies (I obviously have a completely deranged perspective on what "good viewing" is). Outside of Tod, there really isn�t too much to be said about the rest of the actors. At first glance I didn�t really enjoy Henry Oscar�s doddering Irish blarney performance as Mr. Moore, but during subsequent viewings I�ve come to grow fond of Oscar�s quirky mannerisms as the cinematic counterpart to William Burke.
Aubrey Woods is awfully endearing as Jamie Wilson, more so than you might at first expect from a film of this caliber. He talks with a high, infectious lilt and his large, expressive eyes convey a genuine sense of wonder and bewilderment. I just may have let loose a small sniffle when the good boy bites it in the end (or in this case drinks it). Another cute touch is having none other than Tod�s own wife Jenny Lynn star as Mrs. Moore. She�s a drunk, cackling old biddy, even giggling over a morbid pun about Mrs. Dockerty resting in pieces at Dr. Cox�s school (Tod and Jenny were made for each other!). Seeing Tod yell and push Jenny around is adorable in the sense of the word that can only be applied to Slaughter.
Through my research into Horror Maniacs, I found out there was a bit of controversy surrounding the film. Apparently the British Board of Censors didn�t take kindly to the idea of a film depicting the infamous grave snatchers (the film was originally about the actual Burke and Hare) and insisted that the names be changed. Trouble was filming was complete and there wasn�t any money left to re-shoot each scene where the characters� names were mentioned.
So instead the producers had the actors dub the new names over the soundtrack in post-production. This creates a somewhat jarring effect, as you can clearly see the actors mouthing the original names under "Hart", "Moore", and "Cox." It sadly only adds to the film�s ramshackle appearance. Not to mention the U.S. DVD version is apparently only 58 minutes long, compared to the 80-minute length of the original print as reported by IMDb. I can�t help but wonder if this 20-odd minute gap of missing footage contained an instance of "burking," as the DVD cover art so luridly displays�
At the end of the day though, I still cannot dislike this movie. My love for Slaughter is so completely cemented that I could probably find enjoyment in any film he were to be in, even if it was just a walk on cameo. Even as the subdued but grimy William Hart he still manages to steal my heart (heh) with that delectable charm and charisma of his. There might not bee too much action in this tale of resurrectionists and rascals and the overall product might lack the fiery power of Tod�s other cinematic efforts, but I still stand by this British chiller in all of its choppy glory. Maybe I�m nothing but a horror maniac. Or maybe it�s because I know there�s always gold if you know where to look for it.
ANOTHER neck rope for Christmas?!

Labels: 1940S, Body Snatching, Horror Maniacs, The Crypt, Tod Slaughter, Tod Slaughter Blogathon

I like mad doctors. Even more than that, I enjoy the mad-scientist-with-evil-ape-assistant subgenre more than a kid enjoys sugary cereals, staging fights with his action figures, and the seductive charms of Bea Arthur. Yeah, that much. I get a kick out of watching films, whether they be old Tarzan movies or Three Stooges shorts, that have an actor in that fuzzy, rubbery, I-can-see-the-zipper gorilla costume. There's just something about the way that they go aping (oh ho ho) their way around a haunted house or a stage sound jungle that makes me burst out in a fit of deep, manly laughter. So can you imagine the demented grin that stole over my lips when I heard that there was an episode from "Dark Fantasy," a radio show broadcasted in the 40's, that involved said monkey shenanigans?
But then it got even better.
Michael Brock and his wife Adelaide, a famous opera soprano, are on board a private airplane headed for the star's latest concert. Adelaide is plagued by a premonition of evil during their trip. She thinks back to a fellow opera singer, Stephan Wilder, who had mysteriously disappeared five years previously. After a short layaway at Sentilla, Adelaide begins to fear something is amiss when she notices they are over water, as opposed to their close landing. Getting up to question the pilot, Michael notices something else is not quite right. Why, the pilot isn't a pilot. It's a gorilla flying the plane! And faster than anyone can say "Charles Darwin," the ape demonstrates its power to speak coherent English.

The couple is then taken to the laboratory of one Dr. Luther, a cuckoo for Coco Puffs scientist who has some nefarious plans in the mix. Boasting his primate assistant, Luther shows Michael and Adelaide that his chimp can not only speak, but he can SING as well! It soon becomes apparent that Luther has surgically implanted the vocal chords of Stephan Wilder into the buff body of the ape! What is Luther's demented scheme, you ask? Well what else than to take his monkey on tour so that they may astound the world with his robust, operatic tones! Now with Adelaide in his clutches, Luther is determined to graft her pretty little voice into another specimen and it all ends in a climax that needs to be heard to be believed...
This is undoubtedly one of the funnest radio shows it's been my pleasure to listen to. In spite of the nearly ridiculous plot (a SINGING ape!), all the actors in the episode play the matter incredibly straight. The only bit of hamminess we get is from Dr. Luther, who sounds like he could've been voiced by that British actor of villainous infamy Tod Slaughter. The images that play out in one's mind while listening to this episode are guaranteed to inspire a time of good ol' fun and hilarity. The sound quality is in crystal clear shape so you can hear every last minute of it in its ludicrous entirety. Don't miss this one for the world. If you don't have a side-splitting great time with this delirious drama, then I'll be a monkey's uncle.
Tune into Kong's serenade HERE.

Labels: 1940S, Gorilla, Horror On The Airwaves, Mad Scientist, Old Time Radio

Has your nighttime revelry been suddenly disturbed by the crackling sounds emanating from your dusty radio? Is the dial glowing with a light that can only be described as demonic? Have you left the iron on? Well if so, then you realize with a shuddering gulp that these omens can only mean one thing. That's right, it's another frightful journey down the molding halls of yesteryear for an episode of "Horror From The Airwaves"! And in tonight's twisted tale starring the immortal Boris Karloff, we will hear about one of my favorite subjects: "the eternal seeking of an eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth."
George Miller has spent nearly his entire life within the wretched, grey walls of prison, serving a life sentence for a crime that he didn't commit. But George has gotten a break. His sentence is commuted and he will soon be a free man. And all the better, because Miller has some unfinished business he needs to take care of. This unsettles the warden who speaks to the cadaverous Miller just before George is released back into society. Miller seems to be fueled by this one sole purpose, and it doesn't seem like he's wary of breaking the law to achieve it. What perplexes the warden even more is that Miller had recently quit his job as the jailhouse librarian to become the barber's apprentice. So now the quiet and peaceful Miller, whose imprisoned years have changed him both physically and mentally, has become learned in the ways of the straight razor...
Things aren't looking so hot for big-time gangster Ace. He isn't happy about the news of Miller's release and the dead rats that keep appearing on his doorstep and in mail packages don't seem like harmless accidents. Sensing that Miller has returned to settle a score from the past, Ace retreats to a mountain cabin hideaway with his gal Miss Caroll to elude Miller's grasp. And wouldn't you know it, the cabin has a new caretaker, a fine old chap named Walter who recently replaced the old guy. Ace's nerves are pushed to their breaking point as the slain rats keep showing up, signs of the fate that he will eventually meet. But Walter's there to soothe Ace's mind, and what better way to help him out then by offering a nice, relaxing shave?

"The Final Reckoning" bears a more than passing resemblance to "Sweeney Todd, The Demon Barber Of Fleet Street", that beloved tale of psychos and shaving cream that haunted the cheap paper of the penny dreadfuls. What makes that slightly interesting is the fact that this episode incorporates the wronged-prisoner-seeking-vengeance storyline that would later be popularized by Christopher Bond's stage play adaptation of the tale (which would later go on to serve as the basis for Stephen Sondeheim's bloody musical) thirty odd years before it's inception. Listening to this drama can't help but conjure up images of Karloff on the Broadway stage, singing his heart out in that marvelous tenor as he slits the throats of his unsuspecting customers. That would have been a wonder for the ages.
Speaking of Karloff, the man shines in this episode as George Miller. His soothing, crisp tone is so devilishly eloquent that he sounds as if he's reciting poetry even as he's threatening someone's life with a razor. As in many of his most famous roles, Karloff manages to pull us in and root for his wronged character with that passionate voice of his. Miller may be off his loop, but Karloff never for once plays him as a cackling villain who has a habit of rubbing his hands together diabolically (with all due respect to Tod Slaughter). Instead Miller becomes an actual person, a tragic figure in a predicament that could've warped any one of us. And Boris never yells; his rage boils just under the surface of his skin and the tiny flourishes of madness that he instills in his speech really stick with you.
"The Final Reckoning" was part of a radio series entitled Creeps By Night that premiered in 1944. Despite starring such terror luminaries as Mr. Karloff and Peter Lorre in various episodes, the show has fallen into obscurity over the years. Like the fate of many other radio shows of the day, the majority of episodes have become lost with only a handful still remaining in circulation on the web and in disc format.
If you'd like to get an earful of the craziness just described, head on over HERE to listen to "The Final Reckoning" and a few other shock stories from Creeps By Night. Thanks for stopping by the parlor. That'll be two bits.

Labels: 1940S, Boris Karloff, Creeps By Night, Horror On The Airwaves, Old Time Radio, Sweeney Todd

Directed by George King
Written by Edward Dryhurst, Frederick Hayward, and H. F. Maltby, Based on the novel "The Woman in White" by Wilkie Collins
Starring Tod Slaughter, Sylvia Marriott, Hilary Eaves, Geoffrey Wardell, Rita Grant, Elsie Wagstaff, and Hay Petrie
"Wenches like you want taming badly!"
Surprisingly, our drama opens up completely free of any type of prologue or other creative segue like so many of Slaughter�s other films. We�re immediately catapulted into the sweltering atmosphere of Australia circa 1850 just as a ship sets sail from a large mining field. Percival Glyde is just getting ready to tucker in for some long-deserved rest on the ship, taking one last glance at his jingling sack of gold coins before going to sleep. It turns out that it was indeed his last glance as we spy the boots of some fiend stalking across the ship, stopping momentarily to retrieve a sharp wooden stake from the ground. We soon see that the fiend is none other than Mr. Tod Slaughter himself who gets straight to business by pounding the stake into Glyde�s head with one powerful blow from his mallet! Ay caramba!
Not satisfied with just robbing the cranially pulverized corpse of its rings and coins, Toddy retrieves a letter from the dead man�s pocket, informing Glyde that since his father has unfortunately passed away he is to inherit the estate at Blackwater Park as the new baronet. Well, who wouldn�t take the opportunity to steal the dead chap�s identity in order to reap all of his prestige and money? Toddy�s no fool, as evidenced in his guttural chuckling at reading the letter. Sounds like trouble is a-comin� to London!
Apply directly to the forehead.
The new and improved Percival Glyde, all thin mustached and bedecked in swanky designer clothes, is driven up to his newly (and ill-) acquired mansion in a carriage as all the servants prepare for the arrival of their master. And who better than Margaret Yarde (a.k.a. La Pinan from The Face at the Window) as housekeeper Mrs. Bullen to get those silly little servants into shape to impress Big Papa as he grandly returns from his gold digging expedition? No one, that�s who! Glyde delights in hearing from Mrs. Bullen that none of the current servants remember their master. Phew, crisis adverted! Glyde also makes his intentions well known when he spies the delightfully curvy maid Jessica (Rita Grant), causing him to lick his lips lasciviously and make really obvious groping gestures with his hands. You can practically see his trousers starting to get a little tighter.
Meeting family lawyer Merriman (who thankfully has sketchy memories of Glyde as a boy) in the library, Glyde begins to bask in his new found position until Merriman drops the proverbial ball onto Glyde�s lap. Turns out there�s a massive mortgage on the house and property, not to mention the real Glyde�s father has left a hefty debt in his name. Having spent all of the gold from the Australian mines on his new wardrobe, the false Glyde is in some serious shit.
But wait! It seems that the elder Glyde was promised by the patriarch of the Fairlie family that his daughter Laura would marry Percival as payment for a favor that Baron Glyde did for the family. Percy now seeks to marry Laura so that the poor girl will take his outstanding overdraft, in addition to giving him more money to swim in and a beautiful and obedient girl to boss around. Things are looking brighter already!
At the Fairlie residence, Laura (Sylvia Marriott) is painting a mural and talking with her beloved sister Marion (Hilary Eaves) about cute boys and shopping. Turns out Laura has a crush on her art instructor Paul Hartwright (Geoffrey Wardell) but gaps in social status has made public expression of their feelings impossible. Add to that Laura�s whiny and hypochondriac Uncle Frederick who is constantly bemoaning his imagined pains and reminding the stubborn girl that she is to marry Percy and only Percy and you have the formula for great living. He lets her know that Glyde will be calling on her that night to make his proposal and probably molest her in the process. Sounds like a date.
Pardon me. I'm still a little stuffed from that baby I had for lunch.
Glyde isn�t a one-woman type of guy though, for he�s busy scheduling a risqué rendezvous with Jessica back at the mansion to take place at night. In the woods. Shady much? Mrs. Bullen ruins Glyde�s game to tell him that he has some guests who are requesting an appointment with him in the study. The baronet discovers that it is Dr. Isidor Fosco (Hay Petrie), head physician of the local asylum, and the ebony-veiled Mrs. Catherick (Elsie Wagstaff). The little man claims that Glyde is the father of Catherick�s mentally disturbed child Anne, having had bedtime relations with the woman before shipping off for Australia.
Of course Percival denies these atrocious rumors, saying that he couldn�t possibly be the man responsible for Catherick�s pregnancy. The woman agrees with the man, too. But that�s because she claims the devil standing before her is not Percival Glyde! Toddy is outraged by these claims, but his guilt is written all over his face. Although Fosco is at first puzzled by this change in gears, the greasy doctor soon figures out the name of the game and decides to make a proposition of his own after leading Catherick out.
He blackmails the impostor into paying him a hefty sum of money in order to keep the deranged Anne (whose complete devotion to her mother is only matched by her intense hatred of her estranged father) locked away in the sanitarium under proper care. The false Glyde concedes, but he lets Fosco know that he�s not one to be crossed, saying: "Be loyal to your trust and it will pay you handsomely. Betray it and I will feed your entrails to the pigs." Slaughter delivers this line in sweaty relish, spitting out the last word but making it sound like honey-dripped poetry. Fosco informs Catherick of the deal and the matter is then settled.
Laura is dreading the arrival of her odious suitor, seeking consolation in the strong, safe arms of Paul. It�s a rather well-composed scene, with the shadows of ivy leaves playing across the lovers� faces in a very Romantic fashion. But then Percival shows up and breaks up all the prettiness, acting like a complete ass to Paul (as per Slaughter�s habit) and tickling Laura�s fingers with his delightful facial hair. Glyde wants their wedding to take place immediately, nary listening to one word the poor girl has to say as he ravishes her mouth. Laura�s in the dumps, Percival�s high on life, and Anne has escaped from the asylum. Wait, what?! Turns out the Catherick girl has busted free from her cell and is now head hunting for daddy dearest, as Glyde learns from Fosco who meets his back at the mansion. So much for the doctor�s tight security!
Is this your chewing gum?
Oh well, Glyde can�t let a little homicidal maniac get in the way of his mojo. Letting the blushing Jessica into his private compartment, the two embrace in a lustful kiss. But Jessica�s got the blues, mainly because Glyde�s proposed to Laura, leaving the poor maid all alone with child. Thaaat�s right! Percy has gone and knocked up his saucy little chamber maid. For an on-the-fly impostor, he�s sure doing a great job picking up the real Glyde�s old habits! Toddy�s a little dampered by the news, but that certainly won�t bring his spirits down.
Oh wait, there�s a wild-eyed Anne staring at the couple mid-embrace from the window! Now things are bad! Jessica screaming up the stairs of ghosts, Glyde hurls a glass at the shadowy form of his non-daughter. Awakened by the noise, a sleepy Fosco in pajamas is ordered by Glyde to hunt the witch down, but he complains that he doesn�t even have pants on yet. In one of the most brilliant pieces of dialogue ever written for the screen, Glyde screams, fists shaking in the air, "Curse your trousers! Curse you! Oooh, curse everything!" Pure. Gold.
Out on the windy grounds, Paul spots the billowing white gown of Anne Catherick as he�s strolling through the night. Trying to catch up to her, he notices a note the girl posted to a tree, the message persecuting Glyde as a scoundrel. Paul confronts the baron over the matter and the two exchange heated words, the handsome painter promising to give the aristocrat a good thrashing if he dares harm Laura in any way.
The mess on Percy�s hands doesn�t end there, as the ever-weeping Jessica begins to grate his nerves. Seeing a resolution to this angle, Percy plans on eloping with his dimpled darling that night, saying he will meet the girl in the creaky old boathouse on the grounds. Hmmm, suspicious? But Jessica dutifully arrives, falling into her lover�s arms even as he begins strangling her. Woops, slight change in plans! Cackling that Jessica is now "a bride of death," Percival unceremoniously dumps the gal�s corpse into the lake�s depths.
Having satiated his murderous appetite for the moment, Glyde then weds Laura in a beautiful ceremony where rice is thrown and tears are shed. Taking both Laura and Marion back to Blackwater, Percival proceeds to feel Laura up right in front of Marion in one of the most beautifully awkward scenes it�s been my pleasure to watch. The evening doesn�t bring anything better, as a drunken Percival stumbles about the room slurring his words and thrusting his pelvis about willy-nilly.
On the left here are the bathrooms and on the right is certain death.
Although distressed by the tremendous space between the newlyweds� quarters and Marion�s room, the sisters retire to bed as Percival curses at the ethereal form of Anne when she looms in front of the house again. Setting his mind on more pleasurable matters, Glyde slowly ascends the staircase to the bedroom as Laura weeps on her pillows. Glyde�s claws grip the banister with wanton desire and, just as the door creaks open and Laura sees her new husband, Glyde�s depraved cackle rings out just before the screen fades out. Some pretty heavy stuff for an older film, but it�s a great moment that completely conveys Glyde�s villainy to full effect.
The next morning Percy is distressed by his immense pile of bills, so he attempts to fool Laura into signing a document that will entrust all of the woman�s funds to Glyde. Laura and Marion raise a fit because Percy won�t let Laura read the fine print, so Glyde explains in a calm, complacent, and gender-friendly manner "What do women know about business? If I explained it to you you wouldn�t understand it!" I can�t describe how hard it is to suppress laughter when Slaughter spouts these caddish bits. Percy claims his bride distrusts him and insults Marion when she tries to intervene, causing her to leave the house in a huff.
Having retrieved a letter from Anne that was addressed to Laura, Fosco and Percy plan to finally end the lunatic�s reign by striking at the soft spot in her heart. So naturally Percy sets an appointment with Mrs. Catherick in the boat house, and before you can cry foul play, Glyde has wrung the life from the woman�s larynx and sent her corpse to the fishies. Noting the rather strange and sudden disappearance of Anne�s mother, Dr. Fosco blackmails Glyde for an additional five thousand pounds to keep his trap shut. Percy agrees, but we all know he has other plans for the good doctor in the near future when he strokes his chin in morbid contemplation.
That night the deadly duo wait in the local cemetery by Catherick�s grave and, sure enough, the ghostly Anne arrives and collapses into a weeping heap upon the burial mound. Pouncing on their prey, Percy is astounded by the girl�s profound likeness to Laura and Fosco notes that she is extremely sick with pneumonia. Taking her back to the house, Fosco puts Anne in bed and cautions Percy to keep her as warm as possible. The least bit of chill could prove deadly in her condition�
My dear Fosco... you really do have a physician's touch.
Already we see the twisted gears in Glyde�s head turning, and he immediately sets about pushing the bedridden Anne up against an open window, letting the freezing night air blow onto her frail form. Executing the second part of his plan, Percy sneaks up on Laura (right as she�s praying no less!) and subdues her as he steals her away to Fosco�s sanitarium. Ahh, see where he�s going with this? Now with the dangerously insane Anne deader than a doornail and the fiery Laura locked away in a cell, Percy now has complete control over the situation. Brains and villainy prevail. The End.
Not really. After giving sniffling Uncle Frederick a verbal beatdown, Marion returns to Blackwater only to find the shrouded body of her "sister" in a casket. Poor Percy is just broken up over the early and insanely inexplicable death of his new bride. But hey, that�s life. At the asylum Laura is raving and ranting, claiming she is not the real Anne Catherick. Fosco comforts her with some warm condescension and later he and Percy drink to their success.
Marion and Paul are distressed and highly suspicious over the whole affair, so the artist poses as a solicitor and enters the asylum under the pretense of asking Anne about her mother�s belongings. Relieved at her lover coming to the rescue, Laura informs Paul of the whole dirty business. Then Paul unleashes the beast within him and takes down a guard in a flying fury of fists! Don�t let that artistic demeanor fool you� this guy can kick some serious ass.
Back at Blackwater, Fosco asks of his money and, ever the gentleman, Percy gives the doctor a mere fraction of what he asked for and tells him to shut up and like it. Fosco instead goes on a tirade, shrieking Percy�s laundry list of crimes and schemes to the heavens so that an eavesdropping Marion can hear all the dirty details. Not only is he now confronted with an informed Marion, but Percy is given another shock when Fosco threatens that he shall retrieve the record of marriage from the local church that states that the real Percival Glyde had married Mrs. Catherick before his departure to Australia! What a pickle!* So Toddy settles this by catching Fosco mid-flight and wrangling him into a faint, just before he snatches up Marion and carries her up the stairs to the bedroom.
*Since, ya know, the REAL Percival Glyde would have already known that he was married to Mrs. Catherick, so since Toddy didn't know that he must be an impostor. It's all VERY circumstamtial and I'm not sure how the marriage record would really prove anything, let alone in a court case, but let's just go with the show, folks! Dohohoho!
Death by Snuggie.
Paul and Laura race to the mansion just as faux Glyde attempts to get his grubby hands on Marion. The artist tussles with the cackling villain, the two rolling across the floor and trying to strangle each other. Getting the upper hand, Glyde snatches a pistol and shoots Paul in the arm just before he escapes out the window. Fosco, having awoken from his spell and made it to the parish church, tears the marriage record from the archives and determinedly states to bring the impostor to justice.
Too bad for the doc Glyde has snuck up on him, clubbing him with the pistol and then hanging the slimy toad by his neck from the church bell rope! The clanging of the bells alerts the group to Glyde�s whereabouts and they arrive just as the fiend sets fire to the room in order to destroy the evidence. With the gang banging at the front door, Glyde runs back to the archive room only to be trapped in the den of hellish flames! The murderer�s deranged screams of "I�m not Sir Percival Glyde! I don�t want to die!" go unheeded as the white hot embers consume him and the entire church, while the sisters and Paul can only look on in silence.
Along with Sweeney Todd and The Face at the Window, Crimes at the Dark House composes the definitive Three Musketeers of Villainy that makes up Slaughter�s most outstanding work. Here his heavy may be without a real name of his own, but he deserves just as much praise as the Demon Barber and Chevalier Lucio del Gardo. The False Percival Glyde, as he is credited, is without a doubt the biggest prick in Tod�s entire resume! Between his raging sexual deviancy and incessant chauvinism, Glyde gets under your skin in ways never touched with some of Tod�s other scoundrels. His tight, curly hair, round face, and twirly moustache give him the look of a fatal pussy cat, and he has all the condescending mannerisms and devilish tendencies that a personified feline would most likely embody!
Is that you, Bozo?
The cast is full of fresh, young faces to boot, with the exception of a few Slaughter regulars here and there. Sylvia Marriott and Hilary Eaves make a great team, two fiery-hearted sisters who bravely stand up to Glyde�s treachery with a bravery and independence that is to be applauded. Geoffrey Wardell is also a delight as Paul, playing the mild-mannered hero for the majority of the film before kicking the action into high gear during the climax when he reveals his amazing fighting capabilities. I especially love how he growls when he�s wrestling with Glyde� the boy�s got spirit! And of course what fun could we have if Toddy didn�t have a right hand man in deviousness? Hay Petrie is whimsical as the crooked physician, and the theatrical gesticulations he made while calling Glyde out on his crimes brought a bright smile to my face.
Truly, Crimes at the Dark House is on par with The Face at the Window, as it is a fully realized, organic cinematic creation. Both of them contain bombastic performances from Slaughter delivered with ghoulish delight and are engaging and fun right from their blood drenched openings to their adrenaline-infused climaxes. (On a somewhat unrelated note, watching these films, especially consecutively, makes a horror fan wish that through the innovation of technology and copious amounts of black magic there could be a massive gathering of all of Tod�s greatest villains in one film, forming a practical Legion of EEEVIL to terrorize all of Britain. The Chevalier and Faux Glyde on the same team? What wonders there would be! Hollywood producers searching for a formidable force of darkness for a League of Extraordinary Gentlemen sequel: LOOK NO FURTHER!)
While the story here is somewhat standard in the realms of Victorian melodrama skullduggery, all of the performers under George King�s direction imbue their characters and the events with a real passion that can�t help but inspire excitement in the viewer. The typical trappings of the windswept cemetery mansion and the dismal cells of the insane asylum are given vibrant life, creating a fast paced atmosphere that any terror connoisseur would greedily bask in. Crimes at the Dark House comes highly recommended for any self-deserving rogue looking to perfect their criminal skills and general disregard for all humanity. Tips on identity theft thrown in with no extra charge.
Ain't life grand, kids?

Labels: 1940S, Crimes At The Dark House, Killer, Melodrama, The Crypt, The Woman In White, Tod Slaughter, Tod Slaughter Blogathon