TCM’s Greatest Classic Films :: Horror
The final set in Wave 3 of TCM’s Greatest Classic Films DVD collections is devoted to horror films and, like the genre itself, is a mix of the good, the bad and the scary. It is also the least consistent of the three recently released sets, but still has much to offer.
Thrust-vision
It begins with the macabre chiller House of Wax, a film produced to showcase the new 3-D craze. As a result, fists, balls, corpses, even derrieres, are thrust toward the camera at the viewer.
This full-screen, color film, was Vincent Price’s first "stab" at horror films, a genre with which he would be associated for the remainder of his career. He portrays an idealistic sculptor of wax figures who, being disfigured in a fire, becomes a deranged murderer who uses his victims in the displays at his New York wax museum.
The supporting cast is rather bland, with the exception of Carolyn Jones, who enlivens the film playing a kooky blonde gold-digger. When she is found murdered, her friend (Phyllis Kirk) spends the remainder of the film searching for the villain, who she suspects may be Price. Though tepid by contemporary standards, "House of Wax" is a lot of fun, offering a few chills, and some unintentional laughs. The print is uneven with respect to quality. TCM did not even bother to remove the original home page which claims that the flip-side of the disc is the 1932 Mystery of the Wax Museum, which is not at all an extra on this budget edition. The best line from House of Wax comes when the film’s hero takes the New England-bred heroine to a night club where chorus girls are dancing an outrageous can-can routine. He queries "I bet you have never seen a show like this in Provincetown." Were the film to be updated, the response would be, "If those are real women... no, I have not."
A scary Spencer Tracy
The set also includes the 1941 Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, a vastly underrated version overshadowed by the 1920 Barrymore silent, and the grittier 1932 adaptation with Frederic March in the title roles. A virtually infallible actor, Spencer Tracy creates a moody, introverted Jekyll, and a surprisingly sadistic Mr. Hyde. In one of the most unusual of Hollywood casting choices, the radiant Ingrid Bergman plays Ivy, the saucy barmaid who finds herself in an abusive relationship with Hyde. Already a consummate actress by that point, she is superb, as long as one is not averse to hearing a Cockney wench speaking with a heavy Scandinavian accent. As we saw in The Postman Always Ring Twice, Lana Turner does sluttish quite well; yet here she is cast against type as Beatrix, Jekyll’s innocent, blueblood fiancée. And she holds up well, playing against two virtuoso actors.
Dr. Jekyll... is hardly a Wizard of Oz, but Victor Fleming’s direction is excellent here, and he employs several artistic camera angles. The photography, particularly the night shots of the wet streets of London, is often arresting. This is another instance where the original commercial release is more desirable, as it includes the fine 1932 version on the flipside of the disc. As is the case with House of Wax, the home-page states that the earlier film is on the flipside, when, in fact it is Tod Browning’s notorious Freaks, which ironically enough, is part of this collection.
Look at the freaks
With the success of Dracula in 1931 director Browning stayed in the realm of horror with Freaks, which used actual physically deformed sideshow entertainers as the stars of the film. The plot is fairly simple, and concerns an opportunistic trapeze artist who uses her feminine charms to attract a fellow performer, a little person, with the intention of killing him and stealing his fortune. Protective of their own, the "freaks" exact their revenge by mutilating her to the point where she herself becomes a freak of the sideshow.
The film proved very controversial, was banned in several counties, and ultimately cost the director his career. Though thoroughly fascinating, and deserving of its cult status, Freaks is hardly great cinema, and, upon repeated viewings, loses much of its shock value. Yet, this cinematic oddity is a must for ardent collectors of the horror genre. The DVD includes the indispensable documentary on the making of the film.
One of the best
The last movie of the set is perhaps the finest. The Haunting is an unusual entry in the Robert Wise filmography. Made between two lavish, musical blockbusters, West Side Story and The Sound of Music, it is a quiet film, shot in black and white, and built around a simple premise. A parapsychologist chooses a small group of people to assist him in investigating an actual haunted house. (The story came from Shirley Jackson’s psychological thriller The Haunting of Hill House).
Although a comparatively low-budget effort with a simplistic plot, the movie manages to terrify. No ghosts are clearly shown, but, through noises and intricate camerawork, Wise vividly conjures up the supernatural. Along with Poltergeist, this film is one of the most frightening ghost flicks ever produced. The fine acting elevates the proceedings, with Julie Harris as a lonely spinster, and Claire Bloom as a frustrated lesbian, often at odds with each other. Riff in Wise’s West Side Story, Russ Tamblyn plays a snarky disbeliever, soon to inherit the house. The letterboxed print is excellent, and though there are few special features, the intelligent c mmentary by Wise and all the above-mentioned actors is a must.
The discount price, and excellent presentation of these cinematic gems, make the entries in TCM’s new wave of Greatest Classic Films Collections difficult to resist, particularly for those just beginning to create a home-video library.
