A blog formerly known as Bookishness / By Charles Matthews

"Dazzled by so many and such marvelous inventions, the people of Macondo ... became indignant over the living images that the prosperous merchant Bruno Crespi projected in the theater with the lion-head ticket windows, for a character who had died and was buried in one film and for whose misfortune tears had been shed would reappear alive and transformed into an Arab in the next one. The audience, who had paid two cents apiece to share the difficulties of the actors, would not tolerate that outlandish fraud and they broke up the seats. The mayor, at the urging of Bruno Crespi, explained in a proclamation that the cinema was a machine of illusions that did not merit the emotional outbursts of the audience. With that discouraging explanation many ... decided not to return to the movies, considering that they already had too many troubles of their own to weep over the acted-out misfortunes of imaginary beings."
--Gabriel García Márquez, One Hundred Years of Solitude

Sunday, July 28, 2024

The Legend of Hell House (John Hough, 1973)


Cast: Clive Revill, Pamela Franklin, Roddy McDowall, Gayle Hunnicutt, Roland Culver, Peter Bowles, Michael Gough. Screenplay: Richard Matheson, based on his novel. Cinematography: Alan Hume. Art direction: Robert Jones. Film editing: Geoffrey Foot. Music: Delia Derbyshire, Brian Hodgson. 

There are those who are so fond of horror movies that they'll accept almost anything as long as it provides the necessary creep factor. But I am not one of them, so I found The Legend of Hell House silly and dull, with an exceptionally preposterous ending. It's the usual haunted house nonsense, with a group of "researchers" who spend nights investigating the paranormal reported to be rife in the creepy old mansion. In this case there's Dr. Barrett (Clive Revill),  a physicist who purports to believe that ghosts and such are natural phenomena -- something to do with electricity -- and brings along a machine that's supposed to neutralize them. His wife, Ann (Gayle Hunnicutt), insists on joining him, and they're accompanied by two mediums, Florence Tanner (Pamela Franklin) and Ben Fischer (Roddy McDowall). Fischer has been there before, many years ago, in a similar exploration in which everyone was killed or maimed except him. It's a mark of the screenplay's ineptness that we never get a full explanation of why he decided to return, except that he and Barrett and Tanner have each been promised £100,000 if they can expel the spooks. None of the characters is particularly likable, so we don't have much invested in their survival. Neither the writer nor the director is skilled at building suspense, and the result is a marshaling of clichés unleavened by wit.