The House That Dripped Blood
October 24th 2008 01:05
Anthologies are always a mixed bag. There’s usually a couple of tasty treats though. In The House That Dripped Blood (1971) there are four stories, all written by Robert (Psycho) Bloch and all directed by Peter Duffell, with a framework that binds the tales together; in this case the wraparound is the eponymous house, an English manor nestled into the undergrowth off the beaten track.
A disgruntled Scotland Yard detective, Inspector Hollaway (John Bennett, looking like a young Boris Karloff) is investigating the mysterious disappearance of an eccentric movie star Paul Henderson (Jon Pertwee). Local sergeant Martin (John Malcolm) spins a yarn detailing the house’s ominous history and the fate of its previous tenants. You see, the house is let by a Mr. Stoker (John Bryans). Yes, there is a tongue pressing into the side of the cheek with this production, no more so than in the movie’s last story, but we’ll get to that.
In the first story – "Method for Murder" – author Charles Hillyer (Denholm Elliott) and his wife Alice (Joanna Dunham) lease the house so that Charles can write his new horror novel. His fictional killer Dominic (Tom Adams) materialises and begins to terrorise Charles, but his wife can’t see the strangler. It’s revealed there’s more than one agenda turned foul.
In the second tale – "Waxworks" – Philip Grayson (Peter Cushing) moves in for some peace and quiet, to escape the troubling memories of his lost love. In the village he discovers a wax museum and inside he finds the figure of Salome bearing a striking resemblance to his dead partner. The proprietor (Wolfe Morris) is a shady figure who spooks Grayson. Later Grayson’s friend Neville (Joss Ackland) visits and he too is bewitched by the wax figure’s visage.
The third yarn – "Sweets to the Sweet" – sees strict widower John Reid (Christopher Lee) settle in with his sweet little daughter Jane (Chloe Franks). He hires a nanny, Ann Norton (Nyree Dawn Porter), but it becomes apparent young Jane has learnt a few dark tricks from her mama, which involve the use of candles, her father’s whiskers, and a few hatpins.
The final story – "The Cloak" – is about Henderson, the horror movie star. He’s a bit of a Prima Donna, and he lets everyone on set know this. He’s shooting a new Gothic frightfest and he’s playing a vampire, so he must have a suitably authentic Transylvanian cloak as part of his wardrobe. He finds just the one in an antique store from the suspicious-looking Theo van Hartmann (Geoffrey Bayldon), but much to his horror discovers it has dark engulfing powers. He gets over-excited and bites his acting colleague Carla (Ingrid Pitt).
After being warned by Stoker Inspector Hollaway goes to the house to find clues as to the disappearance of Henderson. He finds his answers down in the cellar.
There is much pantomime and theatricality to The House That Dripped Blood, but with a title as camp and delightfully suggestive as the one used, you can’t be surprised by the movie’s overt staginess. It’s certainly a low-budget affair, and it’s virtually bloodless (the producers insisted the British censors give it an X for added hype, even though it deserved the equivalent of a PG), but done with a succinct style and sporting a fabulous who’s who cast of British horror including, of course, the legendary Peter Cushing and Christopher Lee. Keep your eyes peeled for uncredited Joanna Lumley as one of the film crew on the horror movie set.
There are some great lines too, the stand-out being when Henderson reminisces over the old great horror movies like Dracula, but “the one with Bela Legosi of course, not this new fellow”, which of course is a sly reference to Christopher Lee.
There was a genuine creepiness to the first tale, but it’s the middle two stories that are the best, although I did enjoy Jon Pertwee’s dandy in the absurdity of the last tale, but perhaps my fondness had more to do with vamp Ingrid Pitt’s sensational plunging neckline, which gave her pearl necklace a truly voluptuous valley to nestle in.
Not quite as tawdry or lurid as a Hammer production (the production company is Hammer’s little brother Amicus) The House That Dripped Blood is still an enjoyable romp, perhaps accompanied by a cup of Earl’s Grey and hot-buttered crumpet. Although I’d be more inclined for a stiff tumbler of Scotch and a Pall Mall International blunt on the end of a cigarette holder.
Here's the original teaser trailer:
The House That Dripped Blood is part of the 3-disc set Superstars of Horror vol. 3: Christopher Lee, which also has two early Jess Franco flicks The Castle of Fu Manchu and The Bloody Judge, courtesy of Umbrella Entertainment, many thanks!
A disgruntled Scotland Yard detective, Inspector Hollaway (John Bennett, looking like a young Boris Karloff) is investigating the mysterious disappearance of an eccentric movie star Paul Henderson (Jon Pertwee). Local sergeant Martin (John Malcolm) spins a yarn detailing the house’s ominous history and the fate of its previous tenants. You see, the house is let by a Mr. Stoker (John Bryans). Yes, there is a tongue pressing into the side of the cheek with this production, no more so than in the movie’s last story, but we’ll get to that.
In the first story – "Method for Murder" – author Charles Hillyer (Denholm Elliott) and his wife Alice (Joanna Dunham) lease the house so that Charles can write his new horror novel. His fictional killer Dominic (Tom Adams) materialises and begins to terrorise Charles, but his wife can’t see the strangler. It’s revealed there’s more than one agenda turned foul.
In the second tale – "Waxworks" – Philip Grayson (Peter Cushing) moves in for some peace and quiet, to escape the troubling memories of his lost love. In the village he discovers a wax museum and inside he finds the figure of Salome bearing a striking resemblance to his dead partner. The proprietor (Wolfe Morris) is a shady figure who spooks Grayson. Later Grayson’s friend Neville (Joss Ackland) visits and he too is bewitched by the wax figure’s visage.
The third yarn – "Sweets to the Sweet" – sees strict widower John Reid (Christopher Lee) settle in with his sweet little daughter Jane (Chloe Franks). He hires a nanny, Ann Norton (Nyree Dawn Porter), but it becomes apparent young Jane has learnt a few dark tricks from her mama, which involve the use of candles, her father’s whiskers, and a few hatpins.
The final story – "The Cloak" – is about Henderson, the horror movie star. He’s a bit of a Prima Donna, and he lets everyone on set know this. He’s shooting a new Gothic frightfest and he’s playing a vampire, so he must have a suitably authentic Transylvanian cloak as part of his wardrobe. He finds just the one in an antique store from the suspicious-looking Theo van Hartmann (Geoffrey Bayldon), but much to his horror discovers it has dark engulfing powers. He gets over-excited and bites his acting colleague Carla (Ingrid Pitt).
After being warned by Stoker Inspector Hollaway goes to the house to find clues as to the disappearance of Henderson. He finds his answers down in the cellar.
There is much pantomime and theatricality to The House That Dripped Blood, but with a title as camp and delightfully suggestive as the one used, you can’t be surprised by the movie’s overt staginess. It’s certainly a low-budget affair, and it’s virtually bloodless (the producers insisted the British censors give it an X for added hype, even though it deserved the equivalent of a PG), but done with a succinct style and sporting a fabulous who’s who cast of British horror including, of course, the legendary Peter Cushing and Christopher Lee. Keep your eyes peeled for uncredited Joanna Lumley as one of the film crew on the horror movie set.
There are some great lines too, the stand-out being when Henderson reminisces over the old great horror movies like Dracula, but “the one with Bela Legosi of course, not this new fellow”, which of course is a sly reference to Christopher Lee.
There was a genuine creepiness to the first tale, but it’s the middle two stories that are the best, although I did enjoy Jon Pertwee’s dandy in the absurdity of the last tale, but perhaps my fondness had more to do with vamp Ingrid Pitt’s sensational plunging neckline, which gave her pearl necklace a truly voluptuous valley to nestle in.
Not quite as tawdry or lurid as a Hammer production (the production company is Hammer’s little brother Amicus) The House That Dripped Blood is still an enjoyable romp, perhaps accompanied by a cup of Earl’s Grey and hot-buttered crumpet. Although I’d be more inclined for a stiff tumbler of Scotch and a Pall Mall International blunt on the end of a cigarette holder.
Here's the original teaser trailer:
The House That Dripped Blood is part of the 3-disc set Superstars of Horror vol. 3: Christopher Lee, which also has two early Jess Franco flicks The Castle of Fu Manchu and The Bloody Judge, courtesy of Umbrella Entertainment, many thanks!
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Comment by Mr Nice Guy
Pop Culturist
Pop Rock Factory
I remember this screening on late night television in Sydney around 1974/75 - when I was just a kid (oops probably gave up my age then huh) - but my folks had a party happening that particular night and the kids were all still up and pumped with red cordial, devon filled with mashed potato complete with a little pickled onion on top of a tooth pick plus the usual asortment of 70's gourmet party food.
Anyway - the programme had been promoted all week as coming on around 11pm - and to get around the (then censors I guess) pushed the line that viewers would be 'warned' prior to any really scary or violent scenes - so you could turn away, close your eyes - whatever . . .
Yep - I remember this one with fondness.
Cheers
Comment by Bryn
Horrorphile
cheers mate, well, there's no blood and gore at all really, it's all about the suggestion and the antici .........pation!
I always had a soft spot for Jon Pertwee since I grew up watching the tail-end of his run as Dr. Who, and I liked the Dr.'s dress sense (that crushed velvet jacket!) ... and his accent and facial expressions were always gold. I was never a huge Chris Lee fan, but Peter Cushing is always terrific, and he gave Star Wars a real injection of class. Ingrid Pitt had the face and figure of a wicked angel ... Mmmmm! Back in NZ, I grew up with a late night show called The Sunday Horrors that would often screen Amicus and Hammer horrors like this one.
Comment by Damo
For a kid that is freaky
Comment by Bryn
Horrorphile
Comment by Damo
But so many 70's horror films helped me through my teen fantasies I have lost track.
Comment by Bryn
Horrorphile