Karloff Blogathon: La cámara del terror (1968)
La cámara del terror/Fear Chamber (1968; US release date 1971)
Country: Mexico/USA
Production Companies: Providora Filmica Azteca/Filmica Vergara SA
Producer: Lui Enrique Vergara C [Luis Enrique Vergara]
Production Manager: José Luis Cerrada
Director: Juan Ibáñez [and Jack Hill]
Co-Director: JL González de León
Screenplay: Jack Hill, E Vergara C [Luis Enrique Vergara]
Editor: Felipe Marino
Cinematographer: Raúl Domínguez [and Austin McKinney]
Music: Enrico Cabiati
Art Directors: José Méndez, Octavio Ocampo [and Roland Hill, Ray Storey]
Special Effects: Enrique Cardillo
Set Decorators: José Méndez, Octavio Ocampo
Costumes: Tostado
Makeup: Tony Ramirez
Sound: Henry Henkel, Víctor Roto
Filmed at: Estudios America, Mexico; Dored Studios, Hollywood
Length: 88 mins
Cast: Boris Karloff (Dr. Carl Mandel), Julissa (Corinne Mandel) Carlos East (Mark), Isela Vega (Helga), Yerye Beirute [sic] (Roland), Sandra Chavez (Victim), Eva Muller (Sally), Santanón (Dwarf), Pamela Rosas (Victim), Fuensanta.
Karloff still looks good in Satanic robes.
Synopsis: Dr Mandel and his team, daughter Corinne and her boyfriend Mark, discover a living rock that feeds off human fear. Luring young women to an underground lair, they enact Satanic rituals to terrify them and provide the creature with sustenance. However the nourishment is proving less effective each time and assistants Helga and the brutish Roland discover a more effective method when a girl is attacked and killed by the monster.
Review: In April of 1968, Boris Karloff flew to Hollywood to fulfill a contract with Mexican producer Luis Enrique Vergara to make four pictures back to back. The films were originally supposed to be lensed in Mexico City, but Karloff's emphysema - he was operating on half of one lung by this time - meant he couldn't handle the high altitude. This, added to Vergera's desire to give the films a more North American feel, led the producer to make a deal with up-and-coming writer-director Jack Hill to film Karloff's scenes in Hollywood and then fly to Mexico to shoot the remainder.
The hopeful but semi-literate opening title card.
We'll never know what would have happened if Hill have been allowed to complete the films as, thanks to poor production planning, the three week shoot in LA went over budget (Vergara spent most of the time at Disneyland with his family) and on his return to Mexico the beleaguered producer died of a heart attack. Hill, assuming that the projects had perished along with their creator, never made the trip south and it was years later that he discovered they had been released on video, realizing to his horror that they had been completed by another hand.
The four films in this misbegotten enterprise are, in the order that Hill shot them, Fear Chamber, Isle of the Snake People, House of Evil (aka Dance of Death), and The Incredible Invasion (note that Calum Waddell is his excellent book Jack Hill: The Exploitation and Blaxploitation Master, Film by Film, has the order as House…, Isle…, …Invasion, and Fear…, which is the order they were written). After Vergara's people failed to come up with useable scripts, Hill wrote all the screenplays except for Incredible Invasion, which was written by Spider Baby actor Karl Schanzer from an idea by Vergara.
Karloff's determination to die "in harness", bolstered by his appearance on the cover of the March 15th issue of Life magazine (Mexican promotional art for House of Evil copies the iconic shot and adds a mustache), plus his enjoyment of the idea of playing four different characters in such a short period of time, accounts for his appearance here, despite the physical pain and need for an oxygen mask caused by the illness that would claim him less than a year later. Jack Hill also was up for the challenge (he would discover later that even Vergara's Mexican colleagues thought he was mad), particularly given his career frustrations thus far, with his first feature Spider Baby still sitting on a shelf four years after production and his less than ideal relationship with Roger Corman.
Yerye Beirut gives it some serious Tor
Hill's original scripts (which Karloff had enthusiastically approved) were largely jettisoned once his work was complete and the production moved to Mexico, but Fear Chamber is the closest to his original vision (House of Evil was his favorite screenplay and he still hasn't been able to bring himself to watch the finished film). That said, while it is the best of this sorry bunch, it's basically a Z-grade 1950s monster movie, with the requisite hokey exposition (it's never explained why the rock monster might be worthwhile to humanity), wooden acting (genre vet Yerye Beirut of Face of the Screaming Werewolf, is particularly Tor Johnson-like in a role originally written for Sid Haig), and low budget special effects (Mexican-lensed rubber tentacles are more Ed Wood than Hollywood).
Hill clearly cared about the projects and drafted in his father Roland Hill to design the sets for Karloff's scenes (Roland designed the interiors for the Nautilus in Disney's 1954 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea), and Art Director Ray Storey (Spider Baby) to construct them. He also hired cameraman Austin McKinney with whom he'd worked on his previous film Pit Stop and it's a testimony to Hill as a director that he felt he owed McKinney a favor, after Roger Corman failed to pay his Pit Stop crew, and to the mishap-laden project that he was forced to fire him after one week during which McKinney over-lit every scene, using 12 lights where one would have sufficed. Hill also had to battle José Luis Cerrada's less than stellar production management, which caused the wrong actors to show up, leaving Karloff sitting around for hours waiting for his scenes.
Variety is the spice of life, so the rock is fed a stripper.
Karloff himself looks better than he did the previous year in El coleccionista de cadáveres/Blind Man's Bluff/Cauldron of Blood, possibly because Hill avoided using close-ups - mainly because these were shot for large drive-in screens, but partly out of respect for the actor (in stark contrast, Mexican director Ibáñez never met a face he didn't want to get next to, preferably with a rapid zoom) - and seems to be enjoying himself in spite of the pain, the chaotic production, and the banal dialogue.
It's easy to say "Poor Boris" and bemoan the fact that the final big screen appearances of one of horror's great icons were in these wretched films (he made one more appearance on film, in the TV series "The Name of the Game"), but there's no evidence that he needed the money - he left £165,000 in uncollected salary in Mexico - and the fact remains that Karloff went out as he intended, proud but humble, a real English gentleman, working to the last.
Scenes filmed in Mexico are distinctly more perverse than those shot by Jack Hill
In one of the more eyebrow-raising announcements in recent film history, Hill has said he plans to remake these films (a Spider Baby remake is already underway), we await the results with perplexed interest. In the meantime, Fear Chamber is available on DVD from Elite Entertainment, with an excellent director's commentary, a 5.1 sound remix, and an extended scene containing nudity cut from the US release; Isle of the Snake People is available from Cheezy Flicks; and House of Evil is released by both Sinister Cinema and Rhino, the latter under its Dance of Death title; all are barebones releases. Incredible Invasion is unavailable on DVD, but can still be found on VHS from MPI and Rhino under the title Alien Terror.
Farewell to the King.
Reference
Calum Waddell, Jack Hill: The Exploitation and Blaxploitation Master, Film by Film, McFarland & Company, Inc, 2009.
Peter Underwood, Karloff, Drake Publishers, 1972.
Bill Warren, "Karloff's Last Act: Visiting the Set of Boris Karloff's Final Films… and Watching the King of Horror Act" Monster Kid Magazine #2 (date unknown).
Karloff Blogathon: El coleccionista de cadáveres (1967)
El coleccionista de cadáveres (1967), Blindman's Bluff (USA title), Cauldron of Blood (UK title), The Corpse Collectors (Spanish title translation)
Country: Spain/USA
Production Company: A PC Hispamer Films Madrid, Robert D Weinbach Productions Inc New York Picture
Producer: Robert D Weinbach
Associate Producers: Donald Havens Jr, Gilbert Simmons
In Charge of Production: Sergio Newman
"Realizador": Santos Alcocer
"A Film By": Edward Mann
Screenplay: John Melson, Edward Mann (Spanish version: J.L. Bayonas)
Music: Ray Ellis (Spanish version: José Luis Navarro)
Theme: "Blindman's Bluff" by Bob Harris
Theme: "There's A Certain Kind of Woman" by Edward and Marilyn Mann
Cinematographer: Francisco Sempere (in Panoramico)
Additional Photography: Robert J Patterson Jr
Editor: José Antonio Rojo
Art Director: Gil Parrondo
Production Manager: Angel Rosson
Assistant Director: Julio Sempere
Special Effects: Thierry Pathé Special Effects Laboratory
Make-up: Manolita Garcia Fraile
Wardrobe: Manolita Iglesias
Sound Editor: Peter Parascheles
Sound Effects: Luis Castro
Props: F Garcinuño, F Yague
Fight Arranger: Scott Miller
Acknowledgements: Pan American World Airways; Mercedes-Benz; Cessna Aircraft; Endur, Madrid-Suede Creations
Locations: Torremolinos; Estudios Roma, Madrid
Length: 99 mins.
Release Dates: Spain: 16 February 1970. UK: April 1971. USA: 1 August 1971.
Cast: Jean Pierre Aumont (Claude Marchand), Boris Karloff (Badulescu), Viveca Lindfors (Tania), Rosenda Monteros (Valerie), Milo Quesada (Shanghai), Dyanik Zurakowska (Elga), Rubén Rojo (Pablo), Jacqui Speed (Pilar), Mercedes Rojo (Gypsy Queen), Mary Lou Palermo (Stewardess), Manuel de Blas (Lenny), Eduardo Coutelen (Domingo).
The later work of Boris Karloff has never received much love from critics or fans and usually for very good reason. As part of Pierre Fournier's Boris Karloff Blogathon, I will cover some of his more obscure and/or reviled films from the last few years of his career, uncover some of the background to their making, see if they deserve their obscurity, and if they're as bad as we've been led to believe.
Viveca Lindfors and Rosenda Monteros camp it up at the dive bar.
Synopsis: Magazine reporter Claude Marchand is assigned to Spain's Costa del Sol to interview the sculptor Franz Badulescu. Blind and lame following a car accident caused by his wife Tania, Badelescu is creating tableaux based on famous paintings, but unbeknownst to him Tania and a mysterious henchman are killing locals, dropping the victims in a cauldron of acid, and using the skeletons as armatures. Following the deaths of a beach attendant and a dog, Tania turns her sadistic attention to Elga, a friend of Marchand's companion, Valerie.
"Now zat's what I really call afeeshent servees" Jean Pierre Aumont charms Mary Lou Palermo
Review: Between Michael Reeves' The Sorcerers (1967), filmed in the UK and Peter Bogdanovich's Targets (1968), made in California (where he also shot an episode of "The Girl from UNCLE"), Karloff headed to southern Spain to make this Spanish/US co-production which has received little coverage over the years – Peter Underwood's seminal Karloff simply lists it in the filmography, while Cynthia Lindsay in Dear Boris: The Life of William Henry Pratt aka Boris Karloff (Limelight Edition, 1995) mentions it only in passing – and is often lumped in with the Jack Hill Mexican quartet as unwatchable garbage, best forgotten.
While it has to be said that the piece is an unholy mess, it's not without the odd moment of tension and features an elegant (if under-used) Karloff, a barking mad, whips-and-uniform performance by Viveca Lindfors (The Damned, Creepshow) and a very much of its time musical score (at least in the English language version) by Filmation composer Ray Ellis (who would re-use the score for "Shazam", in 1974).
"'Til death us do part, I suppose." Karloff rises above it all.
For many years the film was credited to Santos Alcocer, working under the pseudonym Edward Mann, thanks mostly to a review and credits by David Pirie in the April 1971 issue of The Monthly Film Bulletin (this is also the cause of reviewers naming Karloff's character "Charles" rather than "Franz", and the US title being listed as Blind Man's Bluff, rather than the onscreen Blindman's Bluff). Alcocer and Mann are in fact two different people, but the mistake is understandable thanks to the unusual credit "Realizador: Santos Alcocer. A film by Edward Mann". Alcocer was a Production Manager turned Writer/Director who went on to helm El enigma del ataud/The Orgies of Dr. Orloff (1969) and ran his own production company, while Mann, screenwriter of Terence Fisher's Island of Terror (aka Night of the Silicates, 1966), was a jack of all trades, known (according to Tim Lucas) for adding his name where credit wasn't always earned, including as co-writer on Oliver Stone's debut Seizure (1974), a film dogged by rumors of money laundering by Michael Thevis, a gangster and murderer known as "The Scarface of Porn".
Along with Spain-based American Producer Robert D Weinbach (later owner of Vidcrest Home Video, who released the VHS under review), Mann would write and direct interracial love romp Hot Pants Holiday (aka Tropical Heat, 1972) and co-write (with Weinbach) Jack Cardiff's memorable The Mutations (aka Freakmaker, 1974). It's not known whether Mann and Alcocer shared directing duties, or whether Mann simply took the credit, nor indeed do we know how much involvement he had in the script, which is also credited to John Melson, who wrote Battle of the Bulge (with considerable input from Philip Yordan and Milton Sperling) and Juan Piquer Simón's dire Journey to the Center of the Earth (aka Where Time Began, 1976). To further complicate matters, the Spanish version is credited to José Luis de las Bayonas (Un dollaro per 7 vigliacchi/Madigan's Millions, 1968) leaving the real provenance somewhat obscure.
A neat bit of foreshadowing in an otherwise mad dream sequence.
By 1967, at 80 years old, Karloff was very ill. Crippled with back pain and arthritis and often finding it difficult to breathe due to emphysema, he should by rights have been enjoying retirement in the Hampshire village of Bramshott where he had settled with his sixth wife, Evelyn. Instead he was in the midst of one of the busiest periods of his life and by my rough calculation, between the year 1964 and his death in February 1969, he appeared in 12 movies, provided the voices for three more (including Mad Monster Party and the TV special "The Grinch Who Stole Christmas"), appeared in 10 TV shows, around five TV commercials, and made three LPs, as well as regular recordings for Reader's Digest. Quoted by Lindsay in Dear Boris…, he said "I'm not really alive when I'm not working … to know I would never work again would be something like a death sentence."
He definitely appears frail here, his tired eyes obscured by heavy dark glasses or inexplicable make-up and his gait unsteady. Most uncomfortable of all is a scene where Viveca Lindfors as his wife, administers an injection against his wishes, with his feeble protestations hitting a little too close to home (ironically, Karloff replaced Claude Rains, who was too ill to take the part). But it's still Karloff, that wonderful voice intoning hammy, badly written lines such as "I once fathered a gryphon, you know" and "Now, I suppose, like Beethoven I'm doomed never to see the beauty of my own creations." He still exudes an air of quiet authority, which sets him apart from Aumont's "let us 'ave an orgy" playboy and Lindfors' bonkers bisexual.
Jewelry holds out better than skin in this acid bath.
While Blindman's Bluff/Cauldron of Blood is just about worth it for Karloff's appearance and a brief but effective animated opening title sequence, the rest of the film is largely a disaster, with too many unresolved strands, several loose, ends, and the heavy hand of Franco's censors particularly obvious in a ham-fisted (and unnecessary) rape sequence which plays out in stop motion stills and ends with stock footage of a lightning bolt, repeated a few minutes later to mask an abrupt transition to night. On the plus side, Dyanik Zurakowska (La marca del Hombre Lobo/Frankenstein's Bloody Terror, 1968) is a delight to behold and the sequence where she is stalked through the Badalescu mansion by Tania and her henchman does approach some sense of atmosphere – cameraman Francisco Sempere would go on the shoot Non si deve profanare il sonno dei morti/The Living Dead at the Manchester Morgue (1974).
David Pirie's MFB review states "Its heavy Freudian symbolism becomes almost laughable in conjunction with the wooden dialogue and ludicrous situations…" and he wraps up with "…here the only visible consolation is the chance to see Karloff again, coping bravely with the uninteresting role of the sculptor." And you can't say fairer than that.
El coleccionista de cadáveres/Blindman's Bluff/Cauldron of Blood is unavailable on Region 1 DVD but can be found on a Region 2 release in the UK, from Orbit Media (along with an episode of "Colonel March Of Scotland Yard" from 1956), on out-of-print VHS releases from Vidcrest and Republic, and is currently available on YouTube here.
Reference
David Pirie, Monthly Film Bulletin, Issue 447, April 1971.
Peter Underwood, Karloff, Drake Publishers, 1972.
Cynthia Lindsay, Dear Boris: The Life of William Henry Pratt aka Boris Karloff, Limelight Edition, 1995.
Tim Lucas, Video Watchblog, January 2007.
Eric Cotenas, Lovelockandload – Euro Cult Movie Goodness (date unknown).
