The Curse of Frankenstein
83 min. / Colour / 1.85:1; 1.66:1; 1.37:1 (take your pick)
DTS-HD MA 2.0 Mono, DTS-HD MA 5.1 Surround / SDH
Warner Archive 4K UHD $34.99
Available from Movie Zyng
In the mid-1950s, Hammer Studios of England was still financing productions on a film by film basis, featuring one or more American B-list actors as stars to help sell the films in the U.S. James Carreras, head of Hammer, was introduced to a couple of American producers, Milton Subotsky and Max Rosenberg, who had just had a low-budget hit with Rock, Rock, Rock! and were looking for a partner for their next project, a new version of Mary Shelley's immortal Frankenstein. Hammer producer Tony Hinds hated their script, so Hammer bought them off and screenwriter Jimmy Sangster came up with The Curse of Frankenstein, the studio’s first foray into what would become a long-running and profitable series of gothic horrors in colour.
Wayne Kinsey’s wonderful book, Hammer Films: The Bray Studio Years, relates the censor’s predictable response upon seeing the script: "monstrous... disgusting... in fact, really evil... repulsive... gratuitous examples of sadism and lust, ludicrously written.” Sounds like a go!
Hammer had been entertaining the idea of an American for the role of Dr. Frankenstein, but decided that the title would sell itself in the U.S., and signed Peter Cushing, with the casting of a relatively unknown but usefully tall actor named Christopher Lee to play the Creature (not wanting to incur Universal’s wrath, they decided not to refer to it as Frankenstein’s monster).
Hung on the traditional story (doctor with grandiose plans to create life out of corpses, beautiful fiancé kept in the dark, laboratory in an old, dark creepy facility) we have the Hammer twist: Dr. Frankenstein has no scruples, commits murders for both scientific and personal reasons, and creates a being that has no real redeeming qualities or pathos. Cushing’s Frankenstein is both driven and nasty in contrast to the driven but pathetically loveable Colin Clive in the 1931 classic. Christopher Lee is much better than I remembered from viewing this (between the fingers over my eyes) as a kid; he acts as though his brain isn’t quite connected to his spinal column, resulting in a variety of jerky, quirky movements. The makeup, which looks cheap, phony, and terrible in stills, is okay in quick cuts (man, does he have bad teeth, which we can tell because he sneers when he gets mad, and he gets mad a lot) and actually does resemble what I imagine a rotting corpse looks like. Lovely, bosomy Hazel Court and Valerie Gaunt add the typical Hammer Glamour to the production.
Hammer films were made on low budgets and on cramped sets (Bray was a big old house out in the country) so you can appreciate why the actors seem to always be about to bump into each other. We'll hear the sound of a carriage on cobblestones, and then suddenly an actor springs onto the scene as if George Reeves in a cape was leaping onto the set from a ladder. That's because "off camera" consisted of so little space. That said, transporting myself back to the summer of 1957, when Curse was originally released in widescreen and Technicolor (in the U.S., on a twin bill with X the Unknown), it's easy to see what a revelation (in gory, bloody colour) it was. Released that same month were I was a Teenage Werewolf, Invasion of the Saucer Men, Spook Chasers (with the Bowery Boys), and The Unearthly. The Frankenstein picture, with its multi-hued lab beakers and generous dollops of blood and body parts, was a sensation and simply the coolest monster movie out there. No wonder it made a fortune, leading to numerous sequels (following the adventures of the doctor, not the monster) and a parade of Hammer horrors. I suspect that the use of colour, although beyond the means of American-International, spurred AIP to release three films in the next 12 months that were heavily advertised as having color sequences (I was a Teenage Frankenstein, War of the Colossal Beast, and How to Make a Monster). Curse of Frankenstein was the first film since House of Wax four years earlier that seems to aim for being a grade-A horror.
I’m pleased to announce that we have finally upgraded our antediluvian rotoscope here in the Balcony and this is our first review of a 4K UHD offering. We’re quite pleased to kick it off with such a bang! The colours and depth of field glow with a rich, lush luster while retaining a filmic look; the sound quality booms and crackles off the sound system. You have an option of three aspect ratios spread across two 4K UHD discs; in reverse order to how we liked them, there is 1.85:1 (called the “American” version), 1.66:1, how I’m used to seeing it, and 1.37:1, which is my new favorite, the framing of every scene looks terrific. All of the versions include different commentary tracks, but if you love this film, in addition to a newly restored, spotless presentation, you’re going to be knocked out by the bonus material, which is so plentiful that a third disc, a Blu-ray, is included to cover it all. Some of the featurettes are vintage (we loved the making-of offering from 2012’s restoration) and some are new, but all are fascinating, and spending some time with the chatty Melvyn Hayes, who played young Victor at the start of the film, was a special treat, but you’re going to need hours to get through all of the bonus material, including 35 minutes of a lanky actor being recreated as the Hammer Frankenstein (a process that took hours back in 1957). We spent an entire weekend watching the three discs and I don't think we got to everything.
Along with the Warner Archive six-pack of Hollywood Legends of Horror, this is a perfect Halloween release and hopefully more Hammer offerings follow.
