The Universal Mummy Series

Universal were almost responsible for initiating the first real horror boom at the beginning of the thirties with infamous movies already elsewhere discussed at Grim Cellar.  Perhaps the arrival of sound had a direct impact on the effectiveness of films to embellish a disturbing emotional manipulation of audience responses, and new possibilities were perceived.  In their search for new ideas, they turned to Egyptian history/mythology and to assist brought in their established master of terror at the time, Boris Karloff.

The Mummy (1932) briefly recounted an age more than three millennia prior to the discovery of an ancient scroll, where priest Im-Ho-Tep is consumed by love and mourning to a point where he commits sacrilege by exercising a hex to raise his woman from the dead.  For his sins he is forced to suffer one of the most tortuous deaths imaginable - burial alive.  In the early part of the twentieth century his tomb is opened and the bandaged corpse discovered, at which point a foolishly optimistic young archaeologist reads aloud the ancient scroll, releasing a curse that revives the mummified priest.  The young explorer goes insane and the priest departs into the night.  Later on, a strangely benevolent Egyptian - the priest having shed his bandages - appears on the scene and helps the explorers locate another tomb, something which leads to his realisation that one of the women, Helen, is actually the reincarnation of the lover that he died for centuries ago.  His objective is to reunite their souls but the girl whose body is inhabited by the princess’s soul must die to allow this.

For younger viewers more familiar with the Stephen Sommers/Brendan Fraser action-adventure yarns the original Universal film may be considered something of a whopping great bandaged borefest.  It is quite slow and very old fashioned in terms of cinema, while gore didn’t really exist in this era and scares were of the atmospheric variety (i.e., there wasn’t a 100-decibel soundtrack jab designed to make you leap involuntarily every time something frightening was supposed to happen).  It crafts a story that mixes the tragedy of impractical love with mythology and history, and the highlighting of cultural issues preventing two people from being together is just as relevant today.  After establishing himself as a classic cinematographer on many German silents Karl Freund was rushed into directing, ultimately proving himself here to be methodical and considered, sometimes imaginative at the helm.  There are inspired moments, such as Karloff’s foreboding narrative recollection of his former life, and the glowing eyes of course, though these do become a tad overused by the conclusion.  There’s also the inclusion of a beautiful clip of a wolf in medium shot howling against the moon - probably stock footage, a phenomenon to witness nonetheless.  Zita Johann is an alluringly naïve Helen, wearing amazingly low-cut dresses while not quite having the upper body physique for raincoat viewers (like me) to salivate over.  The Motion Picture Production Code became a serious entity in 1934, something established in the USA to essentially force film-makers to abide by a series of ultimately pointless rules that precluded sexual references, imagery, etc.  Therefore, films made prior to this change often contained elements that were slightly more risqué than their post-1934 counterparts, and the wardrobe of Johann I believe was a product of this.  The undisputed star of Universal’s early make-up era, Jack Pierce, provided groundbreaking processes for the mummy itself/himself.  Both bandaged and ‘unclothed’, Karloff’s make-up is stupendous even to this day.  One final surprise for those who only have vague recollections of these films is the mummy itself - in his stereotype form he is barely used here: we see him awaken at the film’s beginning, we see his feet stagger from the room, and that’s it.  Afterwards Karloff returns only as the Egyptian Ardath Bey, an exceedingly wrinkled though very human-looking man.  The Mummy achieves its goal well enough and, whilst possibly not quite a classic film held at the same heights as Dracula and Frankenstein, it possesses its fair share of eeriness combined with good storytelling.

It took the studio some time to follow up this moderately successful outing but it was inevitable at some point.  The Mummy’s Hand (1940) recreated fairly closely the mythos set up in the earlier movie.  Taking elements of the filmed flashback featuring Boris Karloff (who’s not participating in this one or any of the subsequent sequels in the conventional sense) we learn that Kharis was condemned to the same mummification and death for similar reasons.  Some time around the thirties or forties a couple of losers have their final chance at making a buck in Cairo before having to head back to the USA bankrupt.  They learn of a hidden tomb which is sure to be filled with concealed treasure and persuade an erratic magician to lend them $2000 to fund an expedition.  Along with some workers and the magician’s feisty young daughter they head out to uncover the tomb, getting more than they anticipated when the desecration of the Kharis resting place brings about his resurrection, something that’s welcomed by a local priest who enslaves Kharis to perform homicidal bidding.

It’s immediately obvious in the first sequel to The Mummy that the tone is lightened significantly, mostly through the implementation of two wannabe comedians in the principal roles.  Whilst their tomfoolery is generally incompetent, their comic timing being inadequate to some extent, the story and dialogue manage to keep your attention while you’re perfectly aware of what the film is building up to.  It takes some time to get there too, with about half the film passing before some action appears on the horizon.  However, I think this contributes towards the formulation of a reasonable helping of atmosphere.  This is where we see the mummy in all his traditional horror glory for the first time - a staggering, bandaged corpse intent on avenging the curse that has brought about his reanimated misery.  His eyes appear to be blacked out by a possible manipulation of the negative (an effect not completed for the trailer itself) and his presence, courtesy of highly prolific actor Tom Tyler, is ominous - Pierce once again graced the creature with his skills.  The flashback is quite a strange phenomenon: clearly they’ve used footage from the first film as they retell the story and Karloff is right there in many shots, but for close-ups it switches to new footage of Tyler, creating an oddly jarring effect.  It could be said, consequently, that Karloff is actually present in this film, though his participation is nonexistent.  While the budget for …Hand was approximately half that of its predecessor some of the production design may seem pretty outstanding, though that’s simply a result of economical set regurgitation - some of them were actually built for James Whale’s adventure story Green Hell.  Finally, the sole female of note this time is Peggy Moran and whilst not quite as revealingly dressed as Zita Johann she is visually appealing and her initially dominating approach is unwittingly sexy.  The Mummy’s Hand, directed by quickie specialist Christy Cabanne, is no doubt inferior in many respects to the original film.  Despite this inferiority, it is entertaining and the pace is perceptively executed.

The story of …Hand is recounted at the beginning of The Mummy’s Tomb (1942) where the two guys responsible for the expedition that kicked everything off have returned to the USA and grown older.  Still holding a grudge, however, the wizard who knows when it comes to mummified corpses (George Zucco) sends his servant across to the land of the free with the body of Kharis to reap vengeance on those who caused all the trouble decades earlier.  The servant sets himself up as a graveyard caretaker while sending the mummy out to kill off the two clowns and anyone genetically associated with them, one by one.

This one really is a quickie: not only does it only run for an hour but the first ten minutes of that are taken up with a recap of the previous story, via flashbacks and the narration of Dick Foran’s returning character Steve Banning.  Universal also managed to bring in Lon Chaney Junior to play the monster (no doubt a consequence of his success in The Wolf Man a year prior), something he would do in the following two films also.  They also managed to annoy the star in the process by dropping the ‘Jr.’ from the actor’s screen credit, something which favourably distinguished him from his famous father in his eyes.  Chaney doing a moderate job does not hide the fact that there is little real challenge in characterisation with this creature, which is mostly shuffling around unable to remember why his leg and arm are out of use.  The make-up, though not as proficient as the first movie, is suitably putrescent.  Some of the stunt work is quite rough on the actors, particularly when it comes to fire.  Several people are dangerously close to the flames at the end and one actor (who visibly falls against his torch) was reportedly burnt during filming.  Neil Varnick’s story is quite feeble and lacking a certain amount of imagination, resorting to Universal’s obligatory mob of angry villagers for the film’s climax - quite strange because they’re carrying burning torches and clubs despite the time period somewhere around the middle of the twentieth century by my calculations based on the men’s ages, etc.  The early sightings of the creature bring about a number of amusing situations when he manages to avoid being seen in almost every instance with the exception of his shadow, consequently this giving rise to several reports of ‘a shadow’ in the area!  Imagine West Midlands police responding to reports like that… The entertainment factor here is diminished compared to the preceding chapters but the flick does retain a certain charm in its madness.

Some time after the events of …Tomb a group of hip students are learning history in The Mummy’s Ghost (1944) when the teacher decides to tell them about the mysterious mummy attacks that once allegedly took place in their very town.  Whilst it all seems a little difficult to digest, they don’t realise that the mummy inexplicably survived (indeed, it just wanders out of the forest near the beginning) and is soon on the move when the college professor experiments with the Tanna leaves that grant it strength and life - he is drawn to the leaves instinctively, killing the professor in the process.  The servant (John Carradine) of Andoheb (George Zucco again) has been sent on a mission to track down the body of Kharis’s ancient lover, which has been shipped to a museum in the USA, but realises when the body crumbles that her spirit has reawakened in the shell of one of the young student girls.  The servant decides that she must be ‘reacquired’ by Kharis.  I’m sure they were making this stuff up as they went along at this point!

By about half way through …Ghost I’d pretty much resigned it to being a worthless pile of camel waste.  Carradine’s acting is serious to the point of being about as active as a plank of wood, the mummy make-up seems to have been substantially cheapened (though Pierce was still involved, perhaps rushed), the story pedestrian and generally uninspiring.  There are even clumsy errors such as Chaney’s useless arm suddenly becoming functional when he needs to carry an unconscious woman.  However, the damn film almost won me over by its conclusion: why?  Because of that bloody dog!  This thing outshines Lassie when it comes to intelligence.  It’s only one of those small Jack Russell type of canines but, boy, is it smarter than the humans in this film.  It actually responds to their statements and even goes to fetch the mob of angry villagers when the two heroes are in trouble...!  Also, the denouement of the story is quite grim compared to virtually all other Universal monster bashes, and the outcome surprised me.  It’s not a good film by any stretch but the dog provided a few smiles (though whether those were intended is another matter) and the climax is the most effective of the whole series.

Shot around the same time The Mummy’s Curse (1944) took Universal’s tendency towards temporal distortion one step further, with some pub-dwelling gypsy-types retelling some of the last movie’s events as being about twenty five years prior.  Adding that up with the bodily aging of some of the previous characters, etc., this should place the time around the 1980s by my calculations, however it seems more like the turn of the twentieth century at the beginning before strangely shifting to 1940s America.  I don’t suppose chronological logic was at the front of the minds of Universal’s writers… Anyway, there are plans to completely renovate the marsh near Mapleton, where the events of previous films took place, when a couple of museum archaeological buffs turn up wanting to dig out the mummy and his bride Princess Ananka (after having been left there at the end of …Ghost) to return them to the museum.  Some of the locals are concerned that this interfering with the mummy’s current resting place will arouse the curse again, fears which aren’t without good cause it seems.  After dredging half the swamp they soon find an empty space in the mud where ‘a large man’ would have lain, and of course a dead villager nearby.  Oh yes, and the giveaway, there’s a bit of bandage left on the murdered person (I shit you not).  While Kharis is roped in by one of the Egyptian servants to kill more people, this time Ananka also reawakens to wander around in a state of perpetual confusion regarding her origins or purpose.

The problem primarily by this point was the fact that the stories really had nowhere to go and very much continually rehashed ideas from earlier films.  Quite literally too, as we were very often treated to flashbacks of footage from the other movies despite meagre running times.  The mummy, again played by Lon Chaney Jr., was a creature of limited potential and was lucky to have his lifespan stretched out over this number of movies.  The Mummy’s Curse begins more in the vein of many of Universal’s other films of the period, almost a timeless entity in a dimension undiscovered.  The murders themselves are quite feeble - one guy stumbles in on a ritual during the awakening of the mummy and very simply asks what they’re up to, like one would, before the mummy, which would have been plainly in his sight, staggers right up to him without him noticing until he‘s actually being strangled.  There is one standout sequence in this film, and indeed one of the best of the whole series; the revival of Ananka: she squirms awkwardly out of her grave, her eyes covered in mud and barely able to open, then staggers off in a manner that the TV girl in Ring would have been proud of.  It’s possibly the creepiest scene in the whole mummy series and director Leslie Goodwins must have realised he was on to something because he gets his mileage out of it.  Arguably she’s also more eerie than any of the titular creatures since the series began, other than perhaps the barely glimpsed Karloff creation that kickstarted the whole franchise.  Aside from the reawakening of Ananka, …Curse is a derivative and uninspired finale to the series.

There was of course one more appearance for the monster to come: Abbott and Costello Meet the Mummy (1955), which I will begrudgingly comment on here for the sake of completeness.  Having discovered an extremely valuable medallion (which Lou accidentally swallows), the duo – stranded in Egypt at the time - attracts unwanted attentions of a ‘Klaris’ cult and businesswoman who are similarly interested in the ingested artefact.  It all winds up in a showdown between the various medallion hunters and the revived mummy himself.

Clearly Universal itself had no faith in horror films in the fifties, nor its own Monster legacy (which would, most likely against their expectations, survive in the hearts of generations of fans until this day and beyond).  This alongside a number of other near-concurrent irreverent horror revivals in a comedy context are testament to that.  The two comedians had been making films together for over a decade by this stage, and faced up against various monsters of Universal’s past on several occasions.  This was presumably successful at the time.  …Meet the Mummy would be their last pairing against one of these monsters, and almost their last, period.  Throughout this film the pair amuse audiences by making fools of themselves as the creature proves ineffective as a killing machine, though at least it would return the series to its Egyptian beginnings.  The mummy doesn’t look at all good either, although a couple of differences to the five 1930s/40s outings manifest themselves, such a periodic use of vocal cords, and no limp or useless arm, which I would say is the only good thing about this iteration of the creature.  However, despite the advantage of four usable limbs, there is no murder or bloodshed to be found here.  From a personal point of view none of the comedy really works for me either, so this film is effective neither as a comedy nor a horror for me, and thus is my least favourite of the series, if indeed one counts it as part of the series.

The mummy films provide some fun overall (aside from, ironically, the Abbott and Costello outing), yet were clearly not greatly respected by its studio.  This is apparent by the haphazard manner in which the sequel stories were rushed together and the running times as meagre as the films’ respective budgets.  The mummy (actually Im-Ho-Tep in the first one, Kharis in the following four, and Klaris in the A&B entry) had minimal development as a character beyond the first film though at least there was some narrative progression and continuation from film to film, but within each context there was little to do for the monster other than stagger around and kill.  In a sense he is almost a precursor to Michael Myers of Halloween (1978 onwards) or the homicidal lunatic of almost any other long-running slasher series - this is possibly the slasher movie in its embryonic infancy here, formulating many of the staples that would much later on become clichés in slasher cinema.  Compared to Universal’s other series of the time the creature is less charismatic and quite a lonely entity.  The fact that his arm and leg are virtually unusable (unless he needed to carry a helpless woman) did irritate me a little throughout - he’s rendered practically impotent and the explanation for this was briefly suggested early on in the series but afterwards employed simply as a tool for having him walk in a (then) tension-building fashion.  The aforementioned temporal distortion is something that stands out if the viewer is to watch them in sequence, yet there is some inadvertent bewilderment to be had with this.  In fact, the series as a whole works at its best if you simply switch off the logical side of your brain and accept the crazy rules on their own terms.  Though idiosyncratic in the extreme, it can never quite match up to the studio’s Dracula, Frankenstein, and Wolf Man cycles.  It’s a pity that the gradually diminishing quality of the series detracts from its achievements; nevertheless, it is something that will provide a reasonable degree of entertainment, and that’s what it’s all about at the end of the day.

As a footnote, I’ve owned these on both DVD and Blu-ray, the latter representing a noticeable upgrade in clarity and contrast – these films look surprisingly sharp and beautiful considering their vintage (and the lack of respect Universal seemed to have for them, at least in the years following their production; it’s a wonder they even survived).  In the UK the whole series (including the lamentable Abbott and Costello fun-take) is available on Blu-ray in one neat, relatively inexpensive multi-disc package that takes up no more space than a single film.  I like the overall design of the cover, which fits in neatly with the other Universal Monster releases, sitting well alongside one another on the shelf.

Gaslight

Gaslight (1944) features Ingrid Bergman as Paula, a woman traumatised at childhood finding apparent happiness a decade later once she meets suave Mr Perfect Frenchman, Gregory Anton (Charles Boyer).  Against her better judgement, he surreptitiously persuades her to return to her childhood home, the setting of her trauma.  They shift all of the old family furniture into the attic and set up the place as their marital abode.  Pretty quickly, however, Gregory adopts a controlling approach to their marriage, to a point where Paula becomes agoraphobic and increasingly neurotic and doubtful of her own sanity.  Particularly as she appears to develop kleptomaniac tendencies, and starts to literally hear bumps in the night...

Riveting performances from both Bergman and Boyer grip the viewer's attention throughout, Bergman in particular presenting a character disintegrating under the non-physical abuse she is subjected to throughout - it almost becomes unbearable as we watch her break down.  Gaslight is a poignant film about spousal abuse of an extreme psychological variety.  Joseph Cotten also shows up as the heroic nice guy, a possible saviour for Paula as he recognises something is not quite right from a spectator's perspective.  Angela Lansbury is also quite brilliant as the flirtatious, sneering - and threatening, to Paula's paranoid brain - cockney housemaid.  Really though it's Bergman's portrayed fragility that grips our emotions, probably my favourite of her performances.  As an aside, it must be said that the B&W film has a beautiful look throughout, capturing the oppressive house and fleetingly seen London streets in a gorgeous fashion.

Formerly released in the US on DVD (snapper case format - it's that old) as a Region 1 disc (double-sided), I recently compared it with a later pick-up, the HMV Premium Edition here in the UK, on Blu-ray.  Both present the film(s) in 1.33:1 B&W of course, although the Blu-ray is from a newer scan and sharper/cleaner with improved contrast by some margin - the picture really jumps out compared to the older DVD.  Audio is similar between the two discs although provided with a more robust DTS (mono) track on the Blu-ray.  The Blu-ray runs about thirty seconds longer although I can't quite see why. as the end and beginning credits look identical - this may be a result of improved scanning presenting the film at accurate speed but I can't be certain.  Both editions contain similar extras, the 1940 version in Standard Definition being the main one, two featurettes and a trailer.  The Blu-ray does add an hour-long radio play from a similar era, however.  On the plus side for the DVD, it contains more language tracks if you're not a native English speaker.  Surprisingly also, the 1940 version actually looks a little better on the DVD; I can only assume during the rescaling process to HD it lost some of its sharpness.  If you are particularly interested in that version the best option would be to buy the separate UK Blu-ray, available via the BFI.

Essentially a port of the US Warner Blu-ray, the HMV Premium Edition trumps it to some extent by adding a postcard set, slipcase, and a nice poster (approximately A3 size - see above).  Thus, surprisingly, the best worldwide edition of this powerful classic is actually available right here in the UK for a reasonable price, thanks to HMV's ever-pleasing Premium range.

Tragic Ceremony

One of the horror movies Camille Keaton made during a sojourn to Italy in the seventies prior to attaining infamy with I Spit on Your Grave, Tragic Ceremony (1972) was also one of Riccardo Freda's last films as director.  I always hope that there is renewed interest in Freda's work, a fresh light cast on him as a film-maker to be savioured in the same way that Fulci and Bava might be.  As it stands only a handful of his films have made their way to disc for posterity and present fans to cherish, and a couple I think desperately need to be restored before they vanish forever (if they haven't already).  Tragic Ceremony itself is marginally clumsy at times but with enough going for it to make it an enjoyable, fairly unique viewing experience.

A group of teens are lazing about, generally having a good time thanks to one of them being quite well off before his time (Bill, played by Euro-horror regular Tony Isbert, the Spanish equivalent of James Franco).  Their ebullience is cut short when the jeep gives up the ghost during a stormy night.  They find refuge in an isolated mansion, with reluctant acceptance and little hospitality from their hosts.  Jane (Keaton), however, seems to receive superior treatment for reasons unknown, and she herself develops an uncanny affinity for the place and situation.  While the rest of the group grow increasingly bored cooped up in one room, she goes wandering in the dark, rainy night through the passages of the house, only to become the unwilling - or perhaps destined - participant in a black mass sacrifice that's already underway.  Before the ritual is carried through to logical conclusion, the rest of the group discover what's going on.  Unwittingly they become the catalyst for a bloodbath, as one bloody killing leads to another before their very eyes.  Somehow surviving the massacre the traumatised group head back to Bill's rich dwelling, only to be turned away from there.  It's not long before the mass murder is formally discovered and the police are fumbling through to figure out what happened.

Tragic Ceremony has some great moments and a slight supernatural undertone.  The black mass is a near-surreal nightmare preceded by Keaton fetchingly wandering around the mansion with flimsy attire and candlesticks, much as Barbara Steele might have in the decade before.  It also culminates in the aforementioned massacre, quite a scene as one kill triggers another.  The only complaint here is that either Freda or the editor decide to replay certain shots later in the film to ridiculous excess, thereby diminishing them of their power somewhat.  On route, the film delivers some trademarks of Italian gothic horror, a genre Freda had been involved with before on a number of occasions.  Here it collides - as it often did in the early seventies - with the contemporary, almost as if the horror baton was being handed on between the decades to suit a changing audience.  I think Keaton was brilliant in these European films, her facial expressions alluding to much more going on underneath combined with her very much being an appealing presence generally.  It must be stated that Tragic Ceremony is not all it could have been.  However, with its surreal edge and at times nightmarish logic ever present, over the years I've not grown tired of rewatching it, something that I cannot say for much that spews forth from identity-politics obsessed Hollywood this century.

The film was released by Dark Sky Films on DVD about 2008, and more recently by the incredible Vinegar Syndrome on Blu-ray.  They both present the same cut of the film (running a few seconds longer on Blu only because of the presence of VS's iconic ident at the end), albeit with revised subtitles on the later edition.  Amusingly the incredibly cumbersome onscreen Italian title is translated as is on the Dark Sky disc (roughly speaking to Extract from the Secret Archives of the Police of a European Capital), whereas the same title on the VS is simply translated as 'Tragic Ceremony'... Aspect ratio is 1.78:1 on each disc, perhaps a smidgeon more information being visible on the VS.  Italian language-only (I'm not sure if there is an English dub) audio quality is at a higher bitrate on the VS Blu, although it is limited to the standards of the time and thus the viewer would be hard pushed to notice much difference I think.  The picture quality itself is where the Blu-ray excels, being significantly cleaner and more detailed.  The DVD was reasonably good for its time but is put to bed here without much doubt.  The Blu-ray contains an audio commentary and picture gallery (of Keaton) that the DVD does not, while they both contain the same 13 minute interview with Keaton herself.  The DVD does have a trailer that the Blu-ray is missing for some reason; I wouldn't say this is a huge loss.  In terms of region locking, the DVD is fixed to region 1, whereas the Blu-ray covers all regions.  Finally the VS disc (at least the edition in the first run Camille Keaton in Italy boxed set that it came in) thoughtfully has a reversible cover adorned with appealing art on both sides.  Overall the 2K restoration (reportedly of the 35mm negative) performed by VS is superb, the best edition available, and preserves the film the way it should be for generations to come.

Vivarium

Society's leaders, whoever they may be, have laid before you an established, very well walked - or crawled - path, and they would recommend you to take it (there's surprisingly little in way of alternative options anyway): grow up whilst acquiring an education (i.e. the world is the way we are telling you it is), leave school and get even more educated, find a partner, find a job, find a house, settle into it, produce offspring, die.  There are a few extras, such as discover new ways to despise your fellow human beings (a neat little distraction and focal point for your energy) and assimilate as much as the media can feed you.  The point of all this is unclear; perhaps there was a point to your existence but it has been lost in the shaping of your essentially predetermined life by others who remain unknown to you.

If I may be as bold, I will make a recommendation contrary to the above: do not, if at all possible, follow the established path.  Particularly if you are male.  If you do find a partner, no matter how perfect she may be, do not if you can avoid it cohabitate, especially do not get married, and if nothing else: never, ever, EVER impregnate someone.  Your life will be over, even if you don't realise it at that point, and you will have satisfied the purpose laid down before you by those unknown others.  Tricked into a marital existence where your finances and freedom will be forever compromised while you are drained very gradually of your soul.  And once you have produced the offspring so begged of you, so acclaimed as normal behaviour, anything that was ever unique about you or your potential will be eliminated over time, and that offspring will replace you.  You will become redundant, and figuratively or literally - it really won't matter to the world - dead.  Your leaders won't have to dig your grave for you, you will voluntarily do it yourself.

This paragraph doesn't contain spoilers as such, but Vivarium is best viewed to my mind without knowing too much about it.  A young couple are perusing the housing market for their new nest, the perfect place to conventionally exist and bring up the child that does not yet exist in their lives.  They discover an estate agent selling homes on what appears to be a newly rooted development, some drive away.  A strange man to be selling property, the couple reluctantly drive along with him to take a cursory look at the place, more out of politeness or persuasion than any real volition.  Once in the bland estate, devoid of people, where all of the new houses look pretty much alike, they wander around the intended sale without too much of a spark going off.  Then the estate agent departs without warning.  They decide to do the same, realising it to be perplexingly impossible to find their way back out of the estate.  Eventually their car runs out of fuel right outside the very house they didn't want in the first place, so they're forced to stay the night.  The next day, or days, they desperately try to get out of the town but cannot locate the exit, nor any other people.  Eventually they resign to accepting they are trapped.  At which point a child is delivered to them, the promise of freedom written in the box should they manage to raise the child.  At this point their troubles really fire up.

Taking a blend of horror and science fiction as its genre base, 2019's Vivarium (directed by Lorcan Finnegan) is really a grim social satire which I see as a commentary on the life you are quite likely to lead, a story that - if you see through its metaphors - is also likely to scare the bejesus out of you.  The bland estate and its identical houses, a place full of nobody, a 'job' of sorts that Tom goes to each day that is largely fruitless and ultimately self-destructive, deteriorating relationships, and a child that is frankly one of the scariest children ever put on screen.  If you were half considering children before watching this film, you will - wisely in my opinion - decide against it afterwards!  All of this is delivered with a heavy dose of surrealism and no attempt to pretend that the world Tom and Gemma find themselves is remotely real.  Sort of like your own world really.  If you want conventional narrative - that thing that you think applies to your life - you've come to the wrong place with this film.

I think the project itself could have taken a stronger path but the ideas themselves combined with the enslaved plight of the ordinary couple grab your interest and really keep it ensnared throughout the running time.  If I had to pick issues it would primarily be in Jesse Eisenberg, who I think is miscast and not capable of delivering the raw emotional disintegration that would have made his character's hell much more poignant.  British-born Imogen Poots (you might recognise her from 28 Weeks Later) as Gemma does a better job of displaying her suffering.  And whoever that kid is, well, I never want to run into him in my nightmares!  The other approach I would have taken is to grant the world slightly more verisimilitude, but not completely.  I get that the filmmakers wanted this to look unreal, I personally think it would have hit the mark harder if it resembled what appears to be reality just a little more closely (i.e. as it is, many people might simply see this as a surreal science fiction rather than a distorted mirror designed, possibly, to aid awakening).  Still, they are minor gripes and overall this Danish sourced production is a very impactful one, and one that kept me thinking for days afterwards.  There's not too much in modern cinema that manages that.

In terms of purchasing, annoyingly the British distributors have chosen to put this out of DVD only at time of writing.  I would suggest not supporting such decisions and go for an overseas Blu-ray, either from the US or if you want a reasonably priced option, Germany.  The film did play on Film 4 recently, which is of course a convenient way to check it out first.

Singles

Singles (1992) is without a doubt one of Cameron Crowe's best films, and one of my personal favourites.  Not too much of a plot going on to speak of, it follows a group of twenty-somethings around (and believe me, back then twenty-somethings were way less obnoxious, entitled, and self-obsessed than they generally are today!) as they navigate their relationships and blossoming lives (before it all goes to Hell, some time around your forties...).  Janet - Bridget Fonda, wonderful here - is questioning her relationship with rocker Cliff (Matt Dillon, again absolutely brilliant) while Campbell Scott is apparently finding the love of his life in Linda - is it on or off? - and perpetual singleton Debbie is going through a dating agency to see what or who works (not helped by her flatmate Pam, who's quite happy to steal Debbie's latest find from right under her nose).  You get the idea.  It's all set to a Seattle backdrop with the then-popular grunge scene forming many parts of the soundtrack.  With a couple of lovely cameos (Tim Burton shows up as 'the next Martin Scorsese'), it's a beautiful film that I never get tired of rewatching every few years.  The music track is excellent, the writing spot on, the characters played universally convincingly, and the story just, well, nice.  There's not too much nice in the world today, so it's even more welcome now than back in the 90s.

I've had this one over the years on tape, DVD, and Blu-ray.  I was a tad disappointed when it appeared on Blu-ray because it didn't look like Warner had put in a whole heap of effort that this one should deserve.  However, the newer disc is actually pretty decent and a world better than its standard definition, and lower, predecessors.  Both the DVD and Blu-ray are framed at 1.78:1, although the former does reveal slightly more information around the sides.  The image didn't initially look to me like it had been bestowed with a full-blown remaster, but looking at the two discs side by side it's obvious that the Blu-ray is significantly sharper, bolder, and more colourful.  Audio is stereo on both discs, losslessly compressed with DTS-HD Master Audio on the Blu of course, so it's a winner here too.  It goes without saying that the Blu-ray also plays at the correct frame rate (the PAL DVD is sped slightly at 25 frames per second).

Extras were slim on the DVD: you got a theatrical trailer and a couple of three minute deleted scenes.  On the Blu there is the trailer but you also get a few minutes of entertaining goofs, three full performances from the live gig that was shot for the film (Alice in Chains and Soundgarden), and a plethora of deleted scenes.  My only gripe here is that there is no Play-All function on the deleted scenes, so you have to keep clicking through the menu if you want to watch them all, which most people will - c'mon, Warner!  Still, I can't complain too much at the content even though a Crowe commentary or something would have been a massive bonus.  I picked up the German Blu-ray, which appears to be identical to the American Blu (even the menu is in English), the only difference being the Germans have put their usual, oddly large certification logo on the front cover.  Unusually, the cover is not reversible (to display it without the certificate), but considering it's much cheaper for us in England to import from Germany (for some reason it's not currently available here) now than it is from the US, this huge '12' a minor point.  Overall, if you own Singles on DVD (or VHS or Laserdisc), it's most definitely worth upgrading to this Blu-ray.  If you've never seen the film itself before, I think you're missing out, go check it out!

Sleepy Hollow

Being a big fan of Tim Burton's work throughout the nineties I was thrilled when I heard of his adapting The Legend of Sleepy Hollow for the screen, and was just as thrilled when I got to see it at the cinema.  I can't say how closely it follows Washington Irving's short story but the result is a wonderful mix of quirky detective shenanigans and romance in a supernatural world.  Johnny Depp's character, Ichabod Crane, is something of an irritation in turn of the nineteenth century New York, with his new wave look at forensics and crime-solving.  He is sent, most likely to get him out of the local authority's hair, to investigate three decapitations at the insular village of Sleepy Hollow, some distance away via a long journey through increasingly creepy woodland.  There he finds the place in the grip of an apparently superstitious fear of a headless horseman, who is periodically appearing to relieve select victims of their heads.  Squeamish Ichabod is initially not given to such olde-worlde beliefs, however, his opinion gradually begins to swing as he himself witnesses the strange goings-on.

Burton, in what was probably his last great film, created a tangible, beautiful dark world for 1999's Sleepy Hollow, the mist enshrouded village being a sight to revel in, and the odd characters populating the place of constant interest.  Much like Ed Wood, Burton at the time trailed around with him a motley crew of regulars who were quite delightful to see recurring in his work, starting with an idiosyncratic turn from Depp himself, who probably wasn't quite a planet-sized ego as he later became.  Burton's partner at the time, Lisa Marie, is prominent in the role of Ichabod's mythical mother, while Michael Gough (still the best Alfred) and Jeffrey Jones are sublime as cranky villagers trying to figure out what to do about their deteriorating population.  Danny Elfman is also on hand to deliver yet another strong score which weaves its way through the film, and naturally one must mention the brooding cinematography of Emmanuel Lubezki.  Sleepy Hollow holds up well twenty years later in all respects, one of the few occasions when everything comes together for an essentially Hollywood production to create an actual work of art.

Pathe released this one on DVD in the UK around 2000 and Optimum followed this up with a Blu-ray about a decade later.  I have been hoping for a proper remaster, especially on UHD Blu-ray, for some time but I can't foresee it happening at the moment.  This is unfortunate, although we never know what's going to appear next (when the likes of Vinegar Syndrome are remastering Flesh-Eater for UHD pretty much anything must surely be possible...).  I made a comparison between the two aforementioned UK discs, and here's what I found.  The DVD is fairly well specified, featuring an essential director commentary, a couple of trailers, some still/text-based features, a half-hour making of, plus a ten minute interview.  Conversely, Optimum's Blu-ray is very lazy featuring as it does none of those extras!  Strangely though they did take the time to put on an audio and video calibration tool, perhaps out of guilt...?  Audio-wise the Blu-ray wins out, presenting the film with either a stereo or DTS-HD 5.1 choice, whereas the DVD features an inferior lossy Dolby Digital 5.1 track.  The DTS track is quite powerful and delivers a strong, sweeping experience for its era of production.

The video side of things is of course won out by the Blu-ray.  Firstly, the Blu-ray runs at the correct speed of 24 frames per second, as opposed to the inherent PAL speed of 25 fps.  The DVD is framed slightly tighter at the top/bottom to give us what would have been the theatrical aspect ratio of 1.85:1, whereas the Blu-ray opens this a touch for 1.78:1.  It doesn't make a worthwhile difference.  More pleasing though is the increased resolution, giving us better detail, visible grain, higher contrast, and an all round more satisfying image.  It could almost certainly be bettered these days (and I think the blacks do get swamped a little).  However, it projected to a large screen reasonably well given its age.  It's a shame that the Blu-ray is not carrying any real extras, in this case meaning I will keep both discs.  For viewing of the film though, the Blu-ray is clearly the way to go, until we get a 4K at some stage...

Lurking Fear

From Full Moon Pictures and released in 1994, featuring Jeffrey Combs, this appears to be an attempt to capitalise on the run of low budget Lovecraft adaptations that were semi-popularised with Re-Animator (hinted at just slightly by the return of Combs).  It was directed by C. Courtney Joyner (who?) and also featured the gorgeous Ashley Laurence (from Hellraiser of course, here credited on screen as Ashley Lauren).  It might be expected that this film bears only a very loose passing resemblance to the H.P. Lovecraft story of the same name, primarily retaining the underground creatures that tunnel around beneath a graveyard and up to a nearby building.  They're described as monkey-like in the story, some liberty again taken with this description for the onscreen version (although they do admittedly look quite good).

Obviously the timezone is quite different in Lurking Fear - brought into what was then the blissfully mobile phone-free modern day, it eschews the investigator of the story to bring in a bunch of crooks looking for some buried money in the aforementioned graveyard.  These guys (and woman) clash with a clan of people already battling the lurkers, and together they find themselves effectively trapped in the building while one half wants the money and the other just to bump off the creatures.  Gone is the lovely backstory of how the creatures came about, here only loosely connected to the main ex-con in terms of bloodline (and name).  The atmosphere of the story, a staple of many Lovecraft shorts, is largely lost.  I've never been sure why Lovecraft is not more often and better adapted for film, there is such a wealth of wonderful material available, and Lurking Fear is not nearly at the top of the pile.

88 Films brought a Full Moon equivalent Blu-ray to the UK market, featuring a reasonable 1.78:1 hi-def image with audio as good as you might expect from a low-budget mid-nineties production.  There are some soundless deleted scenes (odd that they were willing to excise anything given the relatively brief running time of the feature), one of those Videozone short making-of featurettes, a commentary and plenty of trailers.  The cover is reversible, providing you with the welcome option of displaying the sleeve without the intrusive BBFC logo, a persisting motif for a long outdated organisation that hangs on to its existence by overcharging struggling boutique labels for the right to sell their movies to a small British audience.  Lurking Fear has a few moments of interest, the presence of Laurence and Combs being the main selling points, but overall I would say viewing this will not set your evening on fire in the same way that, for example, Re-Animator or From Beyond would, but then you probably knew that.

The Sacrament

I've got a softer spot for Ti West than many seem to, having real affection for his former chillers Cabin Fever 2, House of the Devil, and Innkeepers.  He seems to work mainly in TV nowadays (unfortunately) but concluding his horror movie run in 2013 was The Sacrament, a purportedly true tale of a woman who becomes embroiled in the activities of a secluded theistic cult.  After a few months of her absence, her brother and a couple of reporters head into the wilderness to see how she's doing, armed with shaky cam and little else.  Initially things seem a somewhat hostile at the gates, guarded as they are by armed men, but soon they are welcomed by the resident sister who assures them that all is well.  She has temporary accommodation set up for them, and arranges meetings with the patriarch of the community, appropriately referred to as Father.  As one might expect, there are a few more sinister goings-on than where I leave this synopsis, otherwise naturally there would be no film (or indeed perhaps only a very boring one).

This is essentially a POV/found-footage type of movie, so be warned if this is not your bag.  Admittedly I have little tolerance for this genre, reserving my interests for a very select few, and I only put up with viewing Sacrament because it's by West.  It isn't too bad an experience, however, and does manage to exude a disquieting aura as we realise Father and his camp are not the ideal destination to spend one's holiday.  Of course we get the usual tropes of the genre, notably the persistently wobbling camera and the odd desperation to hold on to the thing no matter what is happening in the cameraman's life.  And then there is the uber-natural pretence of the actors, basically saying, 'I'm not acting, really!'  The only person who I'd say pulls off a compelling performance is Gene Jones as Father.  Some of the others acting turns do kind of get on my nerves but Gene manages to save the show.  I think the main issue with Sacrament is that there's not a huge amount to entice audiences, even though it has some value, and it's most certainly not a bad film by any stretch.

A trend with releasing lesser considered films in the UK, one that constantly annoys me, is to put it out only on DVD.  Hell, they may as well bang it out on VHS if they think that little of it (actually that would be cooler).  And this laziness applies here, a Ti West film on DVD only (from some company called House).  So I picked that up a few years ago only because it was virtually no cost (I wouldn't buy a DVD otherwise).  More recently I was able to pick up the film on Blu-ray, albeit imported from Germany.  Both are quite lacklustre releases - cover design on the UK DVD is more colourful although quite generic (boasting the imaginative tagline 'Pray for Salvation'... who the hell came up with that?!), while the German Constantin Film Blu (aside from the usual reversible cover showing certification on one side and not the other) contains a chapter insert - remember those?  Audio on the UK DVD gives you a choice between Dolby Digital stereo or 5.1, whereas you get high resolution DTS surround audio English on the Blu, along with a couple of German language tracks.  The German dialogue subtitles are removable.  Incidentally the utterly rubbish new-look BBFC site lists this as a 15 certificate, whereas the disc clearly displays an 18 certificate!  Either way there are themes of suicide that some people might find upsetting, as well as a touch of gore in places.

Extras on both discs consist only of related and unrelated trailers - this is where the Americans as is often the case are far better treated.  The old Magnolia Blu that came out in the US featured a commentary and a number of featurettes.  The Blu-rays run at around 99 minutes whereas the UK DVD runs at 95 minutes, due to being sped up (a symptom of PAL).  Finally, with regard to image quality, both Blu and DVD are framed at 1.78:1 (the film itself was shot digitally in High Definition), the Blu yielding noticeably sharper and more colourful results, although the DVD is watchable.  There is one slight caveat with the German Blu (aside from lacking the extras of its US counterpart), in that there is an occasional German onscreen text reference (for example it refers to times as '14:00 Uhr' and the like).  They are few and far between and don't detract from the viewing experience in my opinion.  The main draw of the German Blu is that it can be bought for a fraction of the price of the US disc and not much more than the UK DVD (at time of writing).  If you really want extras though, there really is no competition, but just for raw image and sound quality the German Blu provides best value for UK buyers for this reasonable entry into the found footage sub-genre.  It's interesting that West has made one movie about devil-worship, and one movie about God-worship, neither leading to particularly pleasurable results!

The Girl in Room 2A

A woman is kidnapped, tortured, probably violated, then killed, and the opening credits have not even finished rolling yet.  Another woman, Margaret, is released from prison for a crime she says she had no involvement in, and rents a room in a strange little house.  It is the titular Room 2A of course.  A couple of the guests try to befriend her, whilst the landlady is a little too friendly.  Before long Margaret is plagued with prison-like hallucinations or dreams, and she has problems with a blood patch on the floor that she cannot seem to clean up no matter how many shots of Jif she gives it.  Soon she hitches up with a man who says his sister went missing in the very same house that Margaret is staying in.  On top of this bizarre activity there is the mysterious figure in red who likes to beat young women...

A sort of mystery horror thriller with hints of surrealism and possibly the supernatural, The Girl in Room 2A (directed by William Rose) is one of the underrated Italian (co-produced with the US) mystery chillers of the seventies.  The film is very much helped by the presence of its fetching leading lady, Daniela Giordano as Margaret - she also showed up in the Paul Naschy film Inquisition three years later (which you can at present pick up on Blu-ray courtesy of Mondo Macabro).  The beautifully shot ...Room 2A is certainly quite watchable, and indeed re-watchable even following delivery of its conclusive revelation that might have kept viewers guessing the first time around.

This appeared via Mondo Macabro on DVD many years ago, a fine disc for its time.  I recently picked up the Vinegar Syndrome Blu-ray and was able to make a comparison.  Firstly, the VS disc runs the film just over a minute longer - they were able to dig up a couple of extra scenes (dubbed in English only, so if you're watching in Italian the language flips for a short while).  They are inconsequential sequences but certainly not unwelcome.  As they are from an inferior source the quality dips a little on each occasion, but as I say this is only for about a minute or so of the film.  The ratio is improved on the VS - 1.66:1 as opposed to 1.78:1 on the old DVD, providing more image information and most likely the accurate aspect ratio.  Both discs deliver English or Italian language soundtracks, with optional English language subtitles in each case.  There is one interesting difference between the discs here: the English track of the MM DVD features a different score over the opening credits, whereas the VS Blu has the same score for both the English and Italian tracks.  I'm not sure which was intended by the film-makers but they are certainly very different in tone, with the Italian score being oddly more upbeat (I say oddly because it's against a visual backdrop of a woman being tortured and murdered!).

The picture quality is significantly better on the VS Blu, being clearer, brighter and more detailed (aside from having more information as aforementioned).  This is an old mono movie so you don't get too much difference either way - the VS has a higher bitrate DTS-MA English track although, possibly in oversight, only Dolby Digital for the Italian track (there is also a lower bitrate English track).  Subtitles are clearer (and newly translated) on the Blu-ray, inherent to the format.  As far as the extras are concerned, the Blu is again better off.  Both discs contain an 11 minute interview with the lead actress and a trailer.  The DVD does have some digital text based notes to accompany the film, but the Blu has a 17 minute audio essay.  Finally, in terms of the packaging, they are both very different with the VS disc having a choice between two covers (both different to the DVD - see top picture).  The VS disc is available as part of the Forgotten Giallo boxed set volume 2, with two releases - one is a proper boxed set (three films in LE packaging, pictured above) whereas the standard edition is more cut down in terms of packaging although containing the same discs.  Regional coding is not an issue, however, you will need NTSC compatible equipment to play the DVD.  Overall the Blu-ray from Vinegar Syndrome wins out by quite a margin, but the DVD retains a couple of merits.  The film itself is definitely worth owning for collectors of less mainstream horror and cult cinema.

Skinner

I think we have to consider ourselves lucky as film-collectors in the UK.  Skinner (1993) was nigh on lost if it were not for the efforts primarily of its writer Paul Hart-Wilden (along with help from others along the way), added to the fact that the BBFC would once have ruined this with censorship (they've today decide to mercifully leave it complete), as well as the chances of today's easily offended factions of society having something to be offended at being quite high (unfortunately that kind of whining has way more sway than it should, post millennium).  And then factor in that this is now mastered in 4K from an uncut source and put out - with decent extras - on Blu-ray, in the UK as technically the best edition in the world and ever (!), is all in all a miracle to behold.

In essence a tale about a serial-killer, back when they were quite popular on film, Skinner follows around the titular character (Skinner by name and nature - Ted Raimi) as he continues a compulsion to kill and remove/wear his victims' flesh.  Complicating matters is the detail that one of his former victims (a very tragic portrayal by Traci Lords) still lives.  Badly scarred she now seeks out Dennis Skinner in order to eventually execute her own revenge.  Along the way he lodges with an appealing young woman (Ricki Lake, surprisingly), forming a half-complete relationship with her while her husband takes immediate dislike to both the man and the boarding situation.  It's not quite hitting all the nails that could have made this a genuine cult classic, but it's not a million miles away from that classification either.  What I do like about it is its feeling of being a little bit underground, a bit sludgy and taboo.  It's quite nasty in places (very nasty in one particular prolonged sequence), not too fussed about pushing a few buttons as things weren't back then, and quite uniquely grim.

101 Films picked this up for UK distribution and added a few bells of their own.  Firstly the transfer is excellent, widescreen and sourced as mentioned above from a new 4K master using unrated elements that were very close to never seeing the light of day again.  There was once a very rough DVD of the film (succeeding prior VHS tapes and a LaserDisc), the only factor retaining value being its 4:3 presentation (i.e. opened up, as opposed to matted on the new edition).  But of course this new master, most likely now framed as intended, is leaps above anything else in terms of image colour and detail.  Shared with its US (Severin) cousin disc, there's a 20 minute interview with Hungarian-born director Ivan Nagy (shot around 2007 before his death a few years later) where he talks about how he got into directing and what he thought of the script, etc.  His controversial relationship with Heidi Fleiss is more than touched upon too (interestingly, the pursuing woman once nearly killed by Skinner was called Vicky in the script, but renamed Heidi in the filmed version...).  Ted Raimi provides a 15 minute interview where he expresses appreciation for being a part of the film.  The writer himself delivers a 17 minute insight into what he was thinking when he wrote the film and the story of the script essentially being taken away from his (London-bound, self-shooting) intentions through to loss and rediscovery.  Then we have a 10 minute piece that's a lot more fascinating than I expected it to be, a talk with the lucky guy who brought the elements back together in the 90s in order to cut (or recut) it for its then distributors.  Rounding out the extras on the discs are a 14 minute time-coded selection of outtakes from the brutal skinning sequence that centrepieces the film's horror statement, plus a trailer of course.  Aside from Severin's (who shot/compiled the extras footage) tiring inclination to repeatedly insert shots from the film as interviewees talk (e.g. someone mentions a door closing, cut to a shot of Ted Raimi in front of a door...), i.e. I would really just watch the interviews uninterrupted with pointless footage from the pertinent movie, this is a fantastic selection of talks from the people involved in Skinner.

But wait... here in the UK 101 released this (dual format Blu-ray and DVD) as part of their premium Black Label, whereby the standard edition is embellished with a quality slipcase and booklet containing (alongside stills) a fantastic essay by Paul Hart-Wilden detailing his blossoming interest in relocating the elements to Skinner and the arduous decade-long search that ensued, culminating with how it finally landed on Blu-ray in the beautiful edition that we have here.  If you are in the US the Severin disc will probably suffice, but 101 have edged it by putting out the best edition worldwide.  It's also available as a standard version here in the UK for when that Limited Edition goes out of print, but I would grab the LE if I were you.