The Mad Magician (1954) – Review

The Vincent Price classic House of Wax was responsible for kicking off the 3D boom of the 1950s, making Warner Brothers a whole lot of money, so it’s not surprising that Columbia Picture would try and get some of that Box Office cheddar for themselves. This brings us to 1954’s The Mad Magician a film that starred Vincent Price as another mad killer in three dimensions.

The film centres around Don Gallico (Vincent Price), a magician, a master of disguise and a brilliant inventor of stage illusions who wants to move from behind the curtain to become a stage magician himself. However, Gallico’s dreams are quickly dashed when his employer Ross Ormond (Donald Randolph) interrupts a rehearsal of his latest invention “The Lady and the Buzz Saw” revealing that he has sold Gallico’s latest trick to another magician, the pompous and unscrupulous Rinaldi (John Emery). Ormond asserts his legal right to do so, as Gallico’s employment contract states that all his inventions belong to the company. This betrayal pushes Gallico to the brink, igniting a deep-seated rage within him. If that’s not enough, we learn that Ormond also stole Gallico’s wife, Claire (Eva Gabor), away from him, as if he needed any more reason to go mad.

 

Revenge is a dish best served sliced.

Gallico then decides to assume the identity of Ormond to rent an apartment from Alice Prentiss (Lenita Lane) and disposes of the body of the real Ormond on a bonfire celebrating a local college victory. An interesting if risky place to get rid of a corpse. Then things get even more complicated when he is forced to murder his ex-wife when she attempts to track down the “missing” Ormond which brought her to Gallico and his deception. As if that wasn’t enough, The Great Rinaldi is quick to deduce the truth behind the disguise and attempts to blackmail Gallico into continuing his work of creating illusions for him and him alone. Does anyone else see the problem in blackmailing a person who has already committed two murders?

 

Some people are too dumb to live.

Gallico assumes the identity of Rinaldi, using his skills in makeup and disguise to impersonate the deceased magician. This new persona allows him to perform and bask in the limelight, but it also brings him closer to further danger. Unfortunately, his former assistant, Karen Lee (Mary Murphy), is currently dating Lieutenant Alan Bruce (Patrick O’Neal) who is the lead detective on the current slew of disappearances and murders, and as this movie takes place at the turn of the century, we have the hero cop using the new technique of fingerprinting to catch the killer. But will Karen’s boyfriend figure identify the killer in time, or will he get burnt in the process?

 

“Bruce, how about a closer look at my new illusion?”

Stray Observations:

• In the 1953’s House of Wax Vincent Price played a talented sculptor who only turned murderous when he was betrayed by his partner, in this film, he’s a talented magician who is betrayed by his employer and this causes him to turn murderous. Safety Tip: Don’t betray Vincent Price.
• It’s almost a trope in these films that the heroine will be dating or getting involved with a member of the police force.
• As in House of Wax, we get someone performing yo-yo tricks as if this was a requirement in 3D movies.
• Gallico murders his boss by beheading him with a giant spinning buzz saw, lucky for him this saw has the amazing ability to sever a head without spraying an ounce of blood anywhere.
• The bonfire that Gallico uses to dispose of Ormond’s body would not produce enough heat to disintegrate human bone.
• Disguised as Ormond, Gallico rents a room from a person who writes murder mysteries and her latest book was about a murderer who must commit a series of killings to stay free.

 

“Does the rent include a good case of irony?”

When it comes to being able to convey both charm and menace there is no one as good as Vincent Price. His mesmerizing portrayal is fully nuanced, making Gallico a sympathetic figure despite his descent into madness. Price’s ability to convey Gallico’s descent into madness, while maintaining a veneer of charm and sophistication, is a testament to his acting prowess. His performance elevates the film, making Gallico a memorable character in the annals of horror cinema. The supporting cast, including Mary Murphy as Karen Lee and Eva Gabor as Claire Ormond, provide solid performances that complement Price’s central role. Donald Randolph is suitably detestable as the manipulative Ross Ormond, and John Emery as the detective Alan Bruce adds a layer of intrigue to the narrative. The interactions between these characters add depth to the story, providing motivation and context for Gallico’s actions.

 

I’d certainly be mad if someone stole Eva Gabor away from me.

John Brahm’s direction is adept at creating a suspenseful atmosphere and the film’s black-and-white cinematography, handled by Bert Glennon, enhances the eerie and Gothic feel, with shadows and lighting playing a crucial role in building tension. The use of 3D technology, a novelty at the time, adds an extra dimension to the viewing experience, making certain scenes more immersive and thrilling. The film’s atmosphere is a highlight, effectively utilizing the Gothic aesthetic that was a hallmark of 1950s horror. The sets, filled with elaborate stage props and eerie lighting, create a sense of claustrophobic dread. Brahm’s direction ensures that the tension is maintained throughout, with well-paced scenes that build suspense and keep the audience engaged.

 

This film is a lesson in staying ahead in stagecraft.

John Brahm’s The Mad Magician explores themes of obsession, revenge, and the fine line between genius and madness with Gallico’s descent into darkness being a cautionary tale about the dangers of unchecked ambition and the consequences of betrayal. While this entry isn’t quite on par with the House of Wax the film’s engaging plot, atmospheric direction, and strong performances make it more than a memorable offering. Fans of classic horror and thriller films will find much to appreciate in this dark and suspenseful tale.

House of Wax (1953) – Review

Horror remakes are always a mixed bag but one of the early examples of this being done well is in the 1953 remake of The Mystery of the Wax Museum – which starred Lionel Atwill and Glenda Farrell back in 1933 – but this one not only stars the legendary Vincent Price it was also an excellent entry in the 1950s 3D boom.

This remake follows the basic plot of 1933’s The Mystery of the Museum with but a few changes. It is set in 1890s New York City – opposed to the original which took place in contemporary times – and this is where find talented sculptor Professor Henry Jarrod (Vincent Price) running a wax museum. Jarrod is deeply passionate about his work, creating lifelike wax figures of historical figures such as Marie Antoinette and Joan of Arc. He works with his partner, Matthew Burke (Roy Roberts), who is more interested in making a profit than in Jarrod’s artistic endeavours. Burke, frustrated with the museum’s lack of profitability, proposes burning down the museum for the insurance money. Jarrod vehemently refuses, valuing his creations too much. Unbeknownst to Jarrod, Burke sets the museum on fire, resulting in a dramatic and destructive inferno. Jarrod tries desperately to save his figures but is overpowered by Burke. He is left for dead in the blaze as the entire museum is reduced to ashes.

 

This is one way to dissolve a partnership.

Needless to say, Jarrod had survived the fire but he was severely disfigured and crippled, his hands rendered useless for sculpting. Months later, Jarrod reopens a new House of Wax, focusing on macabre and sensational exhibits, much to the delight of his new business partner, Sidney Wallace (Paul Cavanagh). Jarrod now creates his figures with the help of assistants, including the mysterious and intimidating Igor (Charles Bronson) and a heroin addict Carl Hendricks alias Leon Averill (Nedrick Young). Concurrently, a series of strange murders begin to occur in the city. A disfigured man in a cloak strangles Burke and stages the murder as an act of suicide, and a few weeks later the same man murders Burke’s fiancée, Cathy Gray (Carolyn Jones). The mysterious cloaked figure steals her corpse from the morgue, but later, her unemployed roommate, Sue Allen (Phyllis Kirk), notices a striking resemblance between the wax figure of Joan of Arc and her recently murdered roommate.

 

“Is this how you skip out on rent?”

Despite the disbelief of those around her, including her clueless boyfriend Scott Andrews (Paul Picerni), Sue’s suspicions lead her to investigate further and she discovers that Jarrod has been using corpses to create his wax figures, covering them with wax to preserve their lifelike appearance. Jarrod’s injuries from the fire left him unable to sculpt, so he resorted to this macabre method to continue his work. Sue is eventually captured by Jarrod, who reveals his plan to turn her into his new Marie Antoinette. In a dramatic final confrontation in the wax museum, Jarrod’s secret is unveiled. During the struggle, Sue manages to strike Jarrod, causing his wax mask to break and reveal his disfigured face underneath.

 

Horror Tip #1: Never confront the villain while alone with him.

Stray Observations:

• The one major change from the original is that the heroine is no longer a journalist investigating the series of murders but is more in keeping with your standard damsel in distress.
• One of the 3D gimmicks consists of a paddle ball-playing barker used to attract customers to the wax museum, but the actual product was not invented until the 1920s after soft rubber was first produced.
• One of the wax museum exhibits features French serial killer Henri Landru but Landru was arrested for murder in 1919, many years after the setting of this film.
• Carolyn Jones would later become immortalized as Lily Munster in the classic television show The Munsters.
• Vincent Price may not have been a horror icon at this point but he did have a voice cameo as the Invisible Man in Abbott and Costello Meet Frankenstein (1948).
• Like in the original The Mystery of the Wax Museum, Jarrod’s mask is made of a hard plastic that is too hard and inflexible to pass for a real face.

 

This is the problem with being too faithful to the original.

It’s hard to believe that before this film Vincent Price was simply a very talented character actor, appearing in such films as Otto Preminger’s Laura and as Cardinal Richelieu in the 1948 version of The Three Musketeers, it was this film that kicked off his career as a horror icon. Watching this film it’s not hard to imagine why as Price is at his devilishly best here, delivering a performance that is both sympathetic and chilling. His portrayal of Jarrod is layered, evoking both pity and terror as he descends into madness. Vincent Price’s ability to balance charm and menace is on full display, making his character one of the most memorable in horror cinema.

 

“This is how you get ahead in business.”

The film’s use of 3D technology was groundbreaking at the time, and it’s fascinating to see how it enhances the experience even today. Director André De Toth, who was famously blind in one eye and couldn’t experience 3D himself, crafts scenes that take full advantage of the format, with eerie wax figures seemingly reaching out to the audience and thrilling action sequences that pop off the screen. The art direction and set design deserve a standing ovation. The wax museum itself is a character, with its hauntingly lifelike figures and shadowy corridors. The attention to detail in recreating historical scenes in wax adds a layer of authenticity and fascination, making the museum both a place of wonder and horror.

 

Wax museum or mad scientist lair, you be the judge.

The film’s climax is a masterclass in suspense and horror, with a thrilling chase through the wax museum that culminates in a fiery showdown. It’s a satisfying and explosive conclusion that perfectly ties together the film’s themes of obsession, revenge, and artistry. However, as nice as those 3D effects are they are more distracting than effective and underdeveloped supporting characters prevent the film from achieving true greatness as many of the performers tended to drift into the melodramatic. While it’s certainly a film that horror aficionados should experience, it may not hold the same appeal for contemporary viewers seeking a more sophisticated or genuinely frightening experience.

 

 “See? I am the world’s first fully functioning homicidal artist.”

Overall, House of Wax is a must-watch for fans of classic horror and Vincent Price aficionados because his performance as the homicidal artist is in early glimpse of things to come. It’s also a film that revels in its Gothic roots while pushing the boundaries of its time with innovative technology and compelling storytelling. Whether you’re watching it in 3D or regular format, this is one wax museum visit you won’t soon forget.

The Boogeyman (1980) – Review

John Carpenter’s horror classic Halloween ended with Jamie Lee Curtis questioning if it was, in fact, the boogeyman who had hounded them, and then Donald Pleasance responding, “As a matter of fact, it was.” That exchange is pretty much responsible for writer/director Ulli Lommel’s film The Boogeyman, an attempt to cash in Carpenter’s film, only without the skill to pull it off.

The first question that must be answered is, “Does this movie contain a boogeyman?” Well, Webster’s dictionary defines the term boogeyman as a monstrous imaginary figure used in threatening children, and secondly, a terrifying or dreaded person or thing.  Fair enough, and it is this second definition of the boogeyman that is the basis for Ulli Lommel’s film, unfortunately, that is also the least interesting of the two definitions and is what we are saddled with here for this outing. The story kicks off with a prologue where we see two young children, Willy and Lacey, watching their mother and her boyfriend through a window while they make, as kids are want to do, but when their mother (Gillian Gordon) notices them she has her boyfriend (Howard Grant) tie Willy to his headboard before sending Lacey to her room. Lacey sneaks out of her room to get a knife from the kitchen and cut her brother free, but then Willy takes the knife, heads to his mom’s room and stabs her boyfriend to death. This is all done in front of a large bedroom mirror.

Note: The film tries to utilize several pieces of folklore regarding mirrors, such as mirrors containing everything that has been reflected on their surface but the script doesn’t go beyond this rudimentary explanation and leaves the viewer hanging.

The film jumps ahead twenty years where find that Lacey (Suzanna Love) has grown up married a cop named Jake (Ron James) and they have a young son named Kevin (Raymond Boyden), who seems really interested in going fishing. They all live together with her aunt (Felicite Morgan) and Uncle (Bill Rayburn) on a nice farm, one that is only a few hours from the murder house from the film’s opening, because it’s important to be near your traumatic roots. Also, part of the family is brother Willy (Nicholas Love) who lives with them but has remained mute ever since the night he killed his mother’s boyfriend, and while the events of that night twenty years clearly had a strong effect on Willy, his being mute and all, Lacey herself isn’t one hundred percent fine and suffers from terrible nightmares.

 

There is a strange amount of bondage in this boogeyman movie.

After waking up from a nightmare, where she is tied to a bed and threatened by a knife, she confides to Jake about her fears “I don’t want to remember and I’m not going to see my mother. Jake, please help me” and her husband responds “Let’s get rid of these ghosts once and for all. I think you should see your mother and I think we should stop by the old house where you grew up in as a child.” This not only goes against what she just said but makes it perfectly clear that he has never seen a horror movie before. Then to make matters worse he takes her to see a psychiatrist (John Carradine) who uses hypnosis to regress her back to that horrible night.  I should point out, that if your attempts to help your wife overcome trauma consists of going to John Carradine for assistance then you deserve whatever is coming to you. That Jake actually survives to the end of the film is an affront to the horror gods everywhere.

 

“I’m only here to provide a little horror cachet to the proceedings.”

This dipstick of a husband practically drags poor Lacey back to her ancestral home, with the two of them pretending to be prospective buyers so that they can have look around, but then when Lacey wanders off on her own and sees a reflection of her mother’s deceased boyfriend coming towards her in the bedroom mirror. Her reaction to this is quite understandable, she smashes the mirror. Jake is very apologetic to the homeowners, who think they’ve let a crazy person inside their house, but then Jake does something even crazier, he collects all the broken mirror shards and takes them home so that he can later repair them and make his wife confront her crazy fantasies once and for all. Did I mention Jake is an asshat? Too bad for those understanding homeowners, it looks like Jake missed one of the mirror shards and before you can say “Through a glass darkly” a malevolent force is wreaking telekinetic havoc and murdering these nice people.

 

When an Open House goes off the rails.

Stray Observations:

• The opening piano music to this film is so close to that of John Carpenter’s Halloween theme I’m actually surprised lawyers weren’t called in.
• If horror films like this and Bloody Birthday have taught us anything, it’s that small children are impossible to overpower when they are in a killing mood.
• A grown-up Lacey tells a priest “I can’t escape it, that night still haunts me, there must be a reason” I don’t know, call me crazy, but maybe seeing a brutal murder while a child will leave a few emotional scars.
• The aunt’s house has those iconic attic windows found in The Amityville Horror, so things going bad here is a foregone conclusion.
• A cute neighbour tries to seduce Willy while he’s working in the barn, as one does, but his response to this is to nearly strangle her to death. Weirder still is the fact that she never reports the incident nor is this event ever explained or referenced again.
• The family priest tries to use his faith in God to fight this evil but the nature of this threat rings kind of hollow and I’m left wondering if there is another draft of this script out there that explains all of this.

 

“May the power of this script compel you!”

There are a few interesting ideas peppered throughout the film, such as Willy going around the home painting over all of the mirrors, but as no mythological groundwork has been set we don’t know if what he is doing will have any effect at all, which it doesn’t. The one truly interesting moment in the film is after Jake and the reverend discover the aunt and uncle’s dead bodies in the barn he then races back to the house where he finds Lacey blissfully making dinner, not knowing that she’s been possessed by a shard of the mirror, and we get this lovely exchange.

Jake: “Lacey, what are you doing?”
Lacey: “I’m fixing supper, dear.”
Jake: “Lacey, Ernest and Helen are dead!”
Lacey: “Ah that makes dinner for four. Father Reilly, you’re staying, aren’t you?”

 

“I will sup on your soul!”

That kind of dark humour should have been the central element of this movie, sadly, instead of a clever and dark twist on the boogeyman all we get in this outing was a series of lame generic kills and uninspired gore, all surrounding a group of characters we couldn’t care less about. Not to mention the fact that several of the kills were just random people who had the misfortune to be caught in the reflection of a mirror shard. If Ulli Lommel had spent a little more time on the script, setting up the rules for this supernatural threat, this could have been another 80s horror classic, instead, all we got was another fairly forgettable horror entry that was doomed to clutter video rental store shelves.

Incarnations of Death: A Cinematic Journey

The incarnation of Death has been a compelling and enduring subject in cinematic history. This essay examines how filmmakers have personified Death, exploring the character’s various representations, from the ominous and fearsome to the sympathetic and misunderstood. Through these portrayals, the movies delve into humanity’s complex relationship with mortality, each iteration of Death reflecting different cultural, philosophical, and emotional perspectives.

Death, as an abstract concept, has been personified in various forms throughout human history, reflecting cultural, philosophical, and existential perspectives. In cinema, the portrayal of Death transcends mere narrative function, often embodying complex themes of mortality, inevitability, and the human condition. This essay explores the cinematic incarnations of Death, highlighting the multifaceted ways filmmakers have brought this character to life, and examining the thematic significance behind these portrayals.

 

“It was the salmon mouse.”

In 1934’s Death Takes a Holiday we find Death being portrayed as a character yearning to understand human emotions and experiences. This film features Fredric March as Death, who takes on human form to experience life and understand why humans fear him. This narrative explores the duality of Death as both a fearsome force and a seeker of understanding, highlighting the intrinsic link between life and death. The films suggest that understanding and empathy can bridge the gap between fear and acceptance, offering a more nuanced view of mortality.

 

Death Takes a Holiday (1934)

The Grim Reaper, cloaked in black and wielding a scythe, is perhaps the most iconic representation of Death. This image is steeped in Western medieval tradition, symbolizing the harvesting of souls. One of the most iconic cinematic representations of Death is found in Ingmar Bergman’s 1957 film The Seventh Seal. In this entry, Death is personified by a pale, black-clad figure who engages in a chess game with a knight, Antonius Block, returning from the Crusades. Bergman’s Death is both an inevitable force and an intellectual counterpart, embodying the existential anxieties of the knight and, by extension, humanity. The chess game symbolizes the human attempt to delay or outwit death, a futile endeavour that underscores the film’s exploration of faith, doubt, and the search for meaning in the face of mortality. Bergman’s austere, yet nuanced portrayal highlights Death’s omnipresence and impartiality, serving as a stark reminder of life’s impermanence.

 

The Seventh Seal (1957)

In some films, Death is not personified as a character but is represented through symbolism and abstract forms. In Stanley Kubrick’s 2001: A Space Odyssey, the monolith can be interpreted as a harbinger of change, representing the unknown and the inevitable evolution of mankind, akin to Death. The transition through the Stargate and the eventual transformation of astronaut Dave Bowman into the Star Child symbolizes the death of the old self and the birth of a new existence. This abstract portrayal invites viewers to contemplate the transformative power of death and its role in the cosmic order.

 

2001: A Space Odyssey (1968)

In contrast, Terry Pratchett’s “Discworld” series, adapted into several films and TV series, presents a more humorous and endearing version of Death. This Death, a skeletal figure with a deep, booming voice, is far from the terrifying spectre seen in Bergman’s work. Instead, he is portrayed as a character with a dry sense of humour and a surprisingly compassionate demeanour. Pratchett’s Death, who often speaks in CAPITAL LETTERS, provides a satirical yet thoughtful commentary on the human condition, emphasizing the absurdity of life and the inevitability of death. This version of Death is approachable and almost likable, reflecting a more modern, perhaps less fearful, perspective on the end of life.

 

Hogfather (2006)

The 1998 film Meet Joe Black, a remake of Death Takes a Holiday, offers a romantic and philosophical take on the character of Death. Here, Death assumes the form of a handsome young man, played by Brad Pitt, who takes a temporary hiatus from his duties to experience life and love. This incarnation of Death is curious, introspective, and emotionally complex, exploring human relationships and the subtleties of life. The film examines themes of love, loss, and the preciousness of time, presenting Death as an entity capable of empathy and transformation. Through this portrayal, the film attempts to humanize Death, making the concept more relatable and less terrifying by intertwining it with the beauty and fragility of the human experience.

 

Meet Joe Black (1998)

Some films anthropomorphize death, giving it human traits and a personality, often to blend dark themes with humour. In sequel, Bill & Ted’s Bogus Journey, death is portrayed as a comedic, competitive character who eventually aids the protagonists. This light-hearted representation diminishes the fear of death with a not to subtle nod to The Seventh Seal, making it a part of life’s absurdity.

 

Bill & Ted’s Bogus Journey (1991)

In Final Destination, directed by James Wong, Death is depicted not as a physical being but as an unseen force orchestrating a series of fatal accidents. This representation taps into the horror genre, playing on the fear of the unpredictable and inevitable nature of death. The franchise’s premise revolves around characters who cheat death, only to find that they cannot escape their fate. Death, in this context, is a relentless and invisible presence, an entity that cannot be bargained with or avoided. The films reflect a fatalistic view of mortality, emphasizing the randomness and inevitability of death, and exploiting the audience’s fear of sudden and unforeseen demise.

 

Final Destination  (2000)

In the 2014 animated film The Book of Life, La Muerte, voiced by Kate del Castillo, represents Death in the Mexican tradition of Día de los Muertos. La Muerte is a vibrant, skeletal figure adorned with flowers and colourful attire, celebrating the cyclical nature of life and death. This portrayal underscores a cultural perspective where death is not an end but a continuation, intertwined with the joyous remembrance of those who have passed

 

The Book of Life (2014)

The cinematic incarnations of Death reflect a rich tapestry of human beliefs, fears, and hopes regarding mortality. From the Grim Reaper’s sombre inevitability in The Seventh Seal to the curious, humanized Death in Meet Joe Black, and the cultural celebration in The Book of Life, filmmakers have used Death to explore profound existential themes. Abstract representations in films like 2001: A Space Odyssey and The Final Destination further expand the contemplation of death beyond the personal to the universal. Each portrayal invites audiences to engage with the concept of Death, not merely as an end, but as a fundamental aspect of the human experience, enriching our understanding of life itself.

In conclusion, the cinematic incarnations of Death reveal a rich tapestry of interpretations, each reflecting different aspects of human thought and emotion regarding mortality. From the grim reaper in The Seventh Seal to the curious and empathetic figure in Meet Joe Black, these portrayals offer insights into our deepest fears, hopes, and philosophical inquiries about life and death. Whether depicted as a foreboding force, a humorous entity, or a romantic figure, Death in Cinema continues to captivate audiences, providing a mirror to our own existential musings and cultural attitudes toward the end of life.