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

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Showing posts with label The Haunted Strangler. Show all posts
Showing posts with label The Haunted Strangler. Show all posts

Sunday, September 27, 2026

The Haunted Strangler (Robert Day, 1958)

Boris Karloff in The Haunted Strangler

Cast: Boris Karloff, Anthony Dawson, Derek Birch, Dorothy Gordon, Elizabeth Allan, Diane Aubrey, Tim Turner, Jean Kent, Vera Day, Max Brimmell, Leslie Perrins. Screenplay: Jan Read, John Croydon. Cinematography: Lionel Banes. Set designer: John Elphick. Film editing: Peter Mayhew. Music: Buxton Orr. 

The Haunted Strangler is a moderately effective B-movie from Britain, created mainly to exploit the skill and reputation of Boris Karloff. He plays a writer, James Rankin, who becomes obsessed with a crime that happened 20 years earlier: the strangling and stabbing of five women by an assailant who had the use of only one arm. Circumstantial evidence pointed to a man named Edward Styles, who was hanged for the murders. We see his public execution at the beginning of the film, an effective mood-setter. In the course of investigating the crime, Rankin becomes convinced that a physician named Tennant, who conducted autopsies on both Styles and his victims, was the true killer. His investigations take him to a shabby music hall called The Judas Hole, where he interrogates witnesses to the last of the murders, and eventually to the grave of Styles, where he exhumes the body -- and where the plot takes a sudden twist. Although burdened with lame expository dialogue and mediocre performances (aside from Karloff, professional and effective as always), The Haunted Strangler gives the viewers the creeps they came for.