Hammer Time: Hands of the Ripper and The Satanic Rites of Dracula

Angharad Rees as Anna.

After movies featuring mummies, vampires, Frankenstein, and generic psychos, it was inevitable that Hammer Films would get around to Jack the Ripper. However, Hands of the Ripper (1971) is a bit of a surprise: a somber, well-acted tale focusing on the famous murderer's troubled daughter.

In the prologue, a young girl watches her father--the Ripper--stab her mother to death. Years later, Anna (Angharad Rees) has grown into a young woman who works for Mrs. Golding, a fake medium. After one of her seances, Mrs. Golding accepts money from a gentleman who wants to spend the night with Anna. When Anna resists the man's advances, Mrs. Golding intercedes, but the ensuing argument triggers Anna's horrid memories of her mother's murder. She grabs a poker and kills Mrs. Golding.

Eric Porter as Dr. Pritchard.

Dr. John Pritchard (Eric Porter), who suspects that Anna is the murderer, volunteers to care for the girl. In the beginning, Pritchard's interest in Anna is purely academic, as he wants to "cure" her. But, as their relationship progresses, he develops genuine feelings for the young woman that evolve from paternal to perhaps something more. There's only one problem: Anna can no longer control her murderous impulses.

For the  lead roles, Hammer cast two fine performers: Eric Porter, who won acclaim as Soames in the television drama The Forsyte Saga, and Angharrad Rees, the Welsh actress who would charm millions of viewers in the TV version of Poldark. The duo take what could have been a lurid film and bring out the pathos in it.

Indeed, the film's first half is an engrossing Victorian drama that barely resembles a Hammer film. Alas, that gives way to a mounting number of blood-splattered corpses as the story reaches its inevitable downbeat conclusion. Still, if you can look past the violent murders, Hands of the Ripper is worthwhile viewing thanks to its strong performances and production values.

Peter Cushing as Lorrimer Van Helsing.

At the other end of the spectrum, The Satanic Rites of Dracula (1973) is an inferior effort that wastes the talents of Peter Cushing and Christopher Lee. It's a direct sequel to Dracula A.D. 1972 and continues the contemporary setting.

The opening scenes generate some interest by promising an Avengers-like plot--and even casting future New Avengers star Joanna Lumley as Van Helsing's granddaughter. However, the story falls apart when Van Helsing learns that Dracula wants to release a new super strain of the Bubonic plague on the world. Van Helsing offers an explanation of why Dracula would want to do this (no plot spoiler here!) and while it's novel, it just doesn't make sense.

A red-haired Joanna Lumley.

It's a shame that screenwriter Don Houghton didn't streamline the story and just focus on Dracula as a wealthy recluse (think Howard Hughes) who recruits influential world leaders to do his bidding in return for eternal life. That might have been a pretty good contemporary vampire film. Also, I feel obligated to mention that Satanic Rites features the most boring destruction of Dracula on celluloid!

The Satanic Rites of Dracula wasn't released in the U.S. until 1978. It was re-edited and re-titled as Count Dracula and His Vampire Bride. Fortunately, it wasn't the end of Hammer's Dracula saga. The studio produced one last film featuring the Count: the goofy--but highly entertaining--mash-up of vampires and kung fu known as The Legend of the Seven Golden Vampires (1974).

Christopher Lee in The Brides of Fu Manchu

This sequel to 1965's The Face of Fu Manchu is an unexpected improvement on Christopher Lee's debut as the Sax Rohmer's supervillain. Stylistically, it reminded me of an Avengers episode during the Mrs. Peel era--though it could have benefited from the presence of Steed and Mrs. Peel, of course.

The Brides of Fu Manchu opens with the closing scene of the original film, revealing that the criminal genius and his daughter Lin Tang survived the destruction of their lair. It's not long before Fu Manchu has hatched a new plot to dominate the world circa the 1920s.

His archnemesis Nayland Smith suspects a diabolical plot is afoot when the wives and daughters of the world's leading industrialists and scientists start disappearing. To be precise, eleven women from ten countries have been kidnapped in eighteen months. The women--the "brides" of the title--are being held captive by Fu Manchu so that their fathers or husbands will help him build a energy transmission device capable of destroying entire cities.

Douglas Wilmer as Smith.

As in Sax Rohmer's books, Scotland Yard detective Nayland Smith and his associate, Dr. Petrie, are sort of a poor man's Holmes and Watson. Still, it's entertaining to watch Smith match wits with Fu Manchu. The detective makes the first move by disguising one of his men as one of the girls' fathers. Fu Manchu gets the upper hand later when he sets up a reception antenna as a deception, causing Smith to be in the wrong place--resulting in the deaths of 123 people.

Dressed in elegant silk robes, Christopher Lee makes a menacing figure as the supervillain. Yes, it's easy to criticize the casting of a British actor as an Asian character. However, the reality is that the Fu Manchu movies would never have been made without Lee's star power. Douglas Wilmer co-stars as Nayland Smith, replacing Nigel Green who played the hero in The Face of Fu Manchu. Although Green is a fine actor, Wilmer is an upgrade as he's far more convincing as an intellectual man of action.

Producer Harry Alans Towers wrote the script under the pseudonym Peter Welbeck. His screenplay is also an improvement on the first film, interweaving plot elements such as a pit of poisonous vipers, hypnosis, the Foreign Legion, a chase between a roadster and a biplane, and, yes, the BBC.

Tsai Chin as the evil daughter.

A prolific filmmaker, Towers produced a total of five Fu Manchu movies with Christopher Lee as the diabolical title character and Tsai Chin as his daughter: The Face of Fu Manchu (1965); The Brides of Fu Manchu (1966); The Vengeance of Fu Manchu (1967); The Blood of Fu Manchu (1968); and The Castle of Fu Manchu (1969). If memory serves, the quality drops off significantly after Brides. Douglas Wilmer returns as Nayland Smith for Vengeance, but is replaced by Richard Greene in the last two entries in the series. (For good measure, Towers produced two movies featuring Shirley Eaton as Sax Rohmer's female villain Sumuru.)

You may recognize some familiar faces in the supporting cast. The aforementioned Tsai Chin is still active today, guest starring in TV series like Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. She also appeared in the 1993 hit The Joy Luck Club, one of the few Hollywood films with an all Asian cast. Burt Kwouk, who plays Fu Manchu's No. 1 henchman, is best known for his comedic skills. He played Cato, Inspector Clouseau's valet, in several Pink Panther films.

Here's a clip from The Brides of Fu Manchu, courtesy of our YouTube Channel:

Christopher Lee Battles Charles Gray in The Devil Rides Out

Christopher Lee as the hero.

Upon his return to London, Rex Van Ryn learns from the Duc de Richleau (Christopher Lee) that their mutual friend Simon has been a mysterious recluse for the last three months. The duo motor over to a country estate recently purchased by Simon and interrupt what their friend claims is an astronomical society meeting. It's apparent that something else is going on and de Richleau confirms his suspicions when he finds satanic symbols on the observatory's floor and animals awaiting sacrifice.

It turns out that Simon and a young woman named Tanith are about to be baptized into a satanic cult led by a powerful black arts practitioner named Mocata (Charles Gray). Knowing that the following night is a sacred one for the satanists, de Richleau tries to devise a rescue plan while Rex struggles to understand what is happening.

Nike Arrighi as Tanith.

Set in the 1920s, The Devil Rides Out (aka The Devil's Bride) ranks as one of Hammer Films' finest motion pictures. Richard Matheson--an acclaimed writer in his own right--adapted Dennis Wheatley's 1934 supernatural novel. The result is an intelligent script with Hitchcockian overtones.

Hammer's best director, Terence Fisher, ramps up the suspense with three thrilling scenes. The first is when de Richleau and Rex interrupt Mocata's bloody ritual to nab Simon and Tanith from his clutches. The following morning, a dapper-looking Mocata visits the house where Simon and Tanith are being guarded. In a scene straight from Hitchcock's playbook, Mocata exudes charm as he chats politely with the house's owner...and slowly bends her to his will. Charles Gray, who gives a masterful performance as Mocata, uses his penetrating eyes and smooth, controlling voice to great effect.

Charles Gray as Mocata, looking dapper and then in his ceremonial robes.

Fisher's final big flourish occurs in the climatic scene where Mocata uses all his tricks--and the Angel of Death--to lure de Richleau and his friends from a circle of protection. The scene is hampered slightly by merely passable special effects. A giant spider doesn't look all that big--the result of the film's modest budget, no doubt. However, as de Richleau, Christoper Lee's ominous warnings create a general air of unease.

It's no surprise that Christopher Lee considers The Devil Rides Out one of his best films. The sets are convincing and the English country houses--connected by narrow, empty roads--add to the feeling of isolation. Perhaps author Dennis Wheatley gets the credit here, but the decision to stage the satanic baptism ceremony in the woods at night was a brilliant one.

Christopher Lee and Charles Gray give commanding performances as powerful figures at opposing ends of the good-and-evil spectrum. The supporting cast is convincing in their roles, especially British TV veteran Sarah Lawson, who plays the woman who confronts Mocata in her home.

No review of The Devil Rides Out would be complete without mentioning one of the greatest shots in Hammer history. When Tanith is driving a car, Mocata appears to her--with only his eyes visible in the rearview mirror. It's an incredibly creepy image that lingers from one of the best horror films of the 1960s.

Charles Gray's eyes in the rearview mirror.

Let's Go to Witch Mountain!

Ike Eisenmann and Kim Richards.

Newcomers Tony and his sister Tia don't blend in with the other children at the Pine Woods orphanage. That will happen when you have telepathic, telekinetic, and clairvoyant powers. The two siblings try to hide their extrasensory abilities, although Tony obviously has trouble doing so.

When he and Tia save the mysterious Mr. Deranian from a car accident, the man appears at the orphanage claiming the children are his long-lost niece and nephew. Tony and Tia can't dispute Deranian's story, because they can't remember their early childhood (although Tia has occasional visions of almost drowning).

After providing forged legal documents, Deranian adopts the siblings and moves them into the mansion of his employer, Aristotle Bolt. It quickly becomes evident that Bolt intends to use the children's powers for his own benefit. Meanwhile, Tia discovers a map that may provide the answer to her and Tony's origins.

The paranormal kids and normal Eddie Albert.

Escape to Witch Mountain (1975) is one of the best Disney live action films of the 1970s, For the most part, the decade was not kind to the family-friendly film company. It struggled with big-budgeted flops like Bedknobs and Broomsticks (1971) as well as more reasonably priced pictures (e.g., 1973's One Little Indian) that failed to find an audience. Heck, even Fred MacMurray--once one of Disney's most bankable stars--couldn't make a hit out of Charley and the Angel (1973).

Escape to Witch Mountain benefits from a well-plotted story and a good cast. The former can be attributed to Alexander H. Keys' 1968 science fiction novel. The film's screenplay simplifies Key's book and makes some substantial changes. For example, in the novel, Tia is mute and communicates with Tony only through telepathy. However, the film still retains the central mystery of the children's origin and the mysterious map leading to Witch Mountain.

An adult Kim Richards.

A persuasive cast carries the film nicely, particularly the always reliable Donald Pleasance as Deranian and Eddie Albert as a cynical widower that ends up helping Tia and Tony. Unfortunately, Ray Milland is wasted as the one-note villain. As for the kids, Kim Richards (Tia) comes across as a more natural performer than Ike Eisenmann (Tony). Richards was a busy child actor, having co-starred as Prudence in the 1970-71 TV series Nanny and the Professor. And--before you can ask--yes, she grew up to be the same Kim Richards that gained notoriety on the reality TV series The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills.

Lee and Davis as the baddies.

Despite a solid showing at the box office, Disney waited three years to mount the sequel Return from Witch Mountain (1978). It reunited Richards and Eisenmann as the paranormal youths, but unwisely omitted Eddie Albert. Christopher Lee and Bette Davis (in one of her worst later roles) star as the villains. There's practically no plot with the emphasis being on an increased number of cheap-looking special effects.

In 1982, Disney produced a busted TV pilot called Beyond Witch Mountain, which starred Eddie Albert and featured Efrem Zimbalist, Jr. as Bolt. In 1995, Disney remade the original as a made-for-TV film with Robert Vaughn as Bolt. This time, the kids were named Danny and Anna and were helped by a young waitress.

Finally, in 2009, Dwayne "The Rock" Johnson headlined Race to Witch Mountain, playing a Las Vegas cabbie that befriends two unusual siblings named Sara and Seth. Kim Richards and Ike Eisenmann had cameos as, respectively, a waitress and a sheriff.

Christopher Lee as Rasputin, the Mad Monk

Christopher Lee as Rasputin.

Hammer Films and historical drama may sound like strange bedfellows. And yet, the British studio produced much more than just horror films, especially in the 1950s and 1960s. Its output also included suspense pictures, costume swashbucklers, comedies, and science fiction films. Still, even by Hammer's standards, Rasputin, the Mad Monk is something of an oddity.

The film opens with Rasputin (Christopher Lee) using his healing powers to cure the critically-ill wife of a tavern owner. In the ensuing celebration, Rasputin tries to rape the innkeeper's daughter and chops off the hand of her boyfriend--though the latter act was in self-defense. The monk leaves the monastery and shows up in St. Petersburg, where he pairs up with a drunken physician.

He also makes the acquaintance of Sonia (Barbara Shelley), a lady-in-waiting to the Tsarina. Though he's far from handsome (except for those Dracula-like eyes), she cannot resist Rasputin and becomes his lover. He later hypnotizes Sonia and compels her to injure the young prince, so Rasputin can heal the boy and became a member of the royal family's inner circle.

The real Rasputin.

This plot is loosely based on real-life events involving the faith healer Grigori Rasputin, who became an influential friend to Tsar Nicholas II. Screenwriter Anthony Hinds was no doubt aware of MGM's legal troubles when it mounted its lavish Rasputin and the Empress in 1932. That film, which featured all three Barrymore siblings, was the subject of a libel lawsuit by Prince Yusupov (who allegedly participated in the assassination of Rasputin). Yusupov was still alive when Hammer made its version. Incidentally, the MGM lawsuit is largely credited with the following verbiage appearing in the credits of most movies: "This motion picture is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental."

On its own terms, Rasputin, the Mad Monk is a modest success. It was shot back-to-back with Hammer's Dracula, Prince of Darkness and features several of the same cast members (Lee, Shelley, Francis Matthews, and Suzan Farmer), plus some of the same sets (the frozen lake plays a key role in both films). Hammer lacked the budget to provide Rasputin with the necessary scope. In fact, for the longest time, I wasn't sure where the movie was supposed to take place because it sure didn't look like Russia (eventually, a character mentioned traveling to St. Petersburg). The ending is a definite letdown, apparently because a longer fight scene was cut from the final print.

Christopher Lee gives a convincing portrayal as the title character. In a 1974 interview for Nightmare magazine, he said: "Probably one of the best performances I've ever given was as Rasputin in a Hammer film. If it had been made by another company as a serious picture, I think it might have helped me considerably, but it was made once again in the sort of Hammer-horror-mold and as such didn’t really benefit me very much." Interestingly, when Lee was a child, he met Prince Yusupov and as an adult, he met the real-life Rasputin's daughter.

Barbara Shelley.

The other reason to see Rasputin, the Mad Monk is for Barbara Shelley's performance. The lovely red-haired actress rarely got roles worthy of her talent. She makes the most of her screen time as Sonia and convinces the audience that this intelligent woman could so easily fall under Rasputin's influence.

For Hammer aficionados, Rasputin, the Mad Monk is required viewing. For others, though, it depends on whether you're in the mood for a malicious monk movie.

Hammer's Dracula Films Ranked from Best to Worst

David Peel as Baron Meinster.

1. The Brides of Dracula (1960). This should be no surprise to readers of this blog. Indeed, I recently ranked Brides among my top five choices for the greatest horror films of all time. It's a first-rate affair from start to finish with strong performances, interesting themes, and an exciting, inventive climax. The only thing it's missing is Count Dracula--but David Peel's Baron Meinster is a worthy substitute. Less physically threatening than Christopher Lee's vampire, the charming, handsome Meinster may be a more dangerous adversary. One of the film's best scenes is when the sweet Marianne introduces her paternal friend Van Helsing (Peter Cushing) to her new boyfriend.

Dracula is staked--but not for long.

2. Dracula Has Risen from the Grave (1968). Vastly underrated, this lively tale has a revived Dracula (Lee) seeking revenge against a Monsignor who has "desecrated" his ancestral home by performing an exorcism. The theme of religion combating the evil of vampirism is not an uncommon one, but rarely has it received such a rich treatment. The film also benefits from director Freddie Francis' brilliant cinematography, some fabulous rooftop sets, and a solid cast. Veronica Carlson may be the most fetching of all Hammer heroines (well, let's call it a tie with Caroline Munro..and Valerie Leon).

Van Helsing's makeshift crucifix.

3. Horror of Dracula (aka Dracula) (1958). The one that started it all is an effective adaptation of Bram Stoker's novel. The opening scenes with Jonathan Harker at Castle Dracula and the climatic confrontation between Dracula and Van Helsing are marvelous. My only complaint is that the pacing drags in the middle when the action shifts to England. Still, it set the standard not only for the rest of the Dracula series, but for all the Hammer vampire films that followed it. James Bernard's exceptional score would become very familiar to Hammer fans.

John Forbes Robertson as Dracula.

4. The Legend of the 7 Golden Vampires (1974). Who would have thought that a mashup of vampires, kung fu, and The Seven Samurai would be so much fun? When Dracula and some unconventional vampires take over a small Chinese village, its residents send for visiting lecturer Van Helsing (Cushing). The journey to the village, punctuated by some well-staged fight scenes, sets the table for an all-out climax that ends with another Dracula-Van Helsing face-off. Be sure to skip the heavily re-edited version called The 7 Brothers Meet Dracula.

Barbara Shelley as a vampire.

5. Dracula: Prince of Darkness (1964). Although well-made and sporting an impressive cast, the direct sequel to Horror of Dracula lacks inspiration. Christopher Lee seldom has much dialogue in the Dracula films, but, in this one, he has none! The premise, which injects attractive English tourists into the Transylvanian landscape, seems recycled from the previous year's superior Kiss of the Vampire. Still, there are some nice touches, such as how Barbara Shelley goes from a dull lass to a smoking-hot vampire.

Lee strikes an imposing pose.

6. Scars of Dracula (1970). An improvement over the same year's Taste the Blood of Dracula, the sixth film in the series offers little of interest other than a flashy finale and a creepy shot of Dracula climbing down a castle wall, face first, as he did in Bram Stoker's novel. In The Films of Christopher Lee, the actor said: "Instead of writing a story around the character (Dracula), they wrote a story and fit the character into it."

Count Dracula--corporate CEO.

7. The Satanic Rites of Dracula (1973). As modern-day variations go, I like the idea of Count Dracula as a businessman who recruits four influential blokes to help him take over the world. I don't like the idea of Drac releasing a strain of bubonic plague as some kind of revenge on mankind. The resulting film reminds me of a lesser episode of The Avengers that sorely needs Steed and Mrs. Peel.

Cushing as a Van Helsing descendant.

8. Dracula A.D. 1972 (1972). My main problem with this entry is that it came two years too late. The 1970 Count Yorga, Vampire had already mixed vampires and contemporary youths. Hence, there was nothing jarring about seeing Count Dracula in modern-day London. The film does get credit for pairing Lee's Dracula and Cushing's Van Helsing (a Van Helsing descendant actually) for the first time since the 1958 original.

Dracula on the verge of being destroyed.

9. Taste the Blood of Dracula (1970). There was no Dracula in the original film treatment for this fifth series installment. The intention was for Ralph Bates' character to be killed and then resurrected as a vampire to avenge his death. However, when Christopher Lee agreed to appear in the film, the script was rewritten and Bates' character stayed dead--with Dracula avenging him. The premise, which revolves around a sort of Hellfire Club, is initially interesting. However, it soon evolves into a straight revenge tale and ties Satanic Rites for the worst climax in the series.

You Can't Keep a Good Mummy Down

As monsters go, I've never been a big Mummy fan. After all, the Mummy basically follows orders, kills people, and walks...very...slowly. For some reason, people tend to fall down a lot when he's stalking them. Otherwise, I'm not sure the Mummy would be very effective at accomplishing his deadly tasks.

Still, I am a fan of Hammer Films' The Mummy (1959), which features an imposing Christopher Lee as possibly cinema's most fleet-footed mummified monster. This version is not a remake of the interesting, but plodding, 1932 Boris Karloff original. It does borrow some elements, but Jimmy Sangster's script also gleefully dips into other Universal Mummy movies. In the end, it's sort of a "Best of the Mummy" and that works surprisingly well.

The plot begins in 1895 with three British archaeologists discovering the tomb of Princess Ananka. When left alone in the tomb, elderly Stephen Banning (Felix Aylmer) reads the scroll of life and inadvertently revives a mummy called Kharis. Banning suffers a stroke and winds up back in England in the Engerfield Nursing Home for the Mentally Disordered. He never says a word to anyone for three years. 

An atmospheric shot of the Mummy
emerging from a bog.

Hence, his son John (Peter Cushing) is surprised when he learns his father wants to see him. Dad tells John that there's a mummy roaming the English countryside. John doesn't believe him until the elderly Banning is found strangled in his room at the nursing home--the bars to his window bent like putty.

As mentioned earlier, many familiar plot elements are interwoven into Hammer's The Mummy. There's the sinister Egyptian scholar who wants to punish the men who desecrated Princess Ananka's tomb. There's the expected reincarnation subplot, this time involving Banning's wife (French actress Yvonne Furneau).  And there's a lengthy flashback that explains how Kharis, a high priest to Ananka, became a vengeful mummy.

Apparently, Mummies don't knock.

However, director Terence Fisher freshens up The Mummy with two marvelous set-pieces and some atmospheric visuals of the formidable monster traipsing through the English countryside. The film's best scene has Kharis bursting through the double doors of Banning's stately manor and killing a relative as Banning fires bullets into the impervious creature. A similar later scene is just as effective when Kharis plunges through a floor-length glass window and shrugs off two blasts from a shotgun. 

The reliable Peter Cushing.

As he did in Hammer's Dracula films, Cushing brings intelligence and physicality to his role as a monster adversary. But more than that, he brings conviction to the point that his character can discuss a living mummy committing murders and not sound silly. As the Mummy, 6' 5" Christopher Lee makes a pretty scary monster, assisted by effective make-up and those penetrating eyes. He gets some face time, too, as Kharis in the flashback sequence.

It's a shame that the budget prevented on-location filming for the Egypt footage. It's woefully apparent that these scenes were shot indoors. On the other hand, set designer Bernard Robinson creates some highly effective sets for the scenes taking place in England.

Valerie Leon--she's no mummy!

The Mummy doesn't belong in Hammer's top tier of films (which includes the likes of Brides of Dracula, Frankenstein Must Be Destroyed, and The Devil Rides Out). That said, it's a very satisfying take on the Mummy pantheon and recommended for horror fans. Hammer made three sequels (of sorts). Skip The Curse of the Mummy's Tomb (1964) and The Mummy's Shroud (1967) and go straight to Blood from the Mummy's Tomb (1971). In lieu of a mummy, you get the stunning Valerie Leon in an intriguing adaptation of Bram Stoker's novel The Jewel of the Seven Stars.

An Interview with Hammer Films Star Veronica Carlson

The only female lead to play opposite Christopher Lee's Count Dracula and Peter Cushing's Dr. Frankenstein, Veronica Carlson is a true Hammer Films icon. She made her Hammer debut in 1968 with Dracula Has Risen from the Grave, one of the studio's best vampire films. The talented, blonde-haired actress followed it with the equally-impressive Frankenstein Must Be Destroyed (1969) and the dark comedy Horror of Frankenstein (1970). Today, the still radiant Ms. Carlson lives in the U.S. and remains in high demand for film convention appearances. She also paints portraits, several of which have been auctioned for charity.

Café: How did you go from modeling to acting?

Veronica Carlson: I had a photograph of me coming out of the waves in a white bikini on the front page of a tabloid newspaper. Jimmy Carreras (a Hammer executive) saw that photograph and said he wanted me in his next Hammer movie. So, I went for an audition and I ended up with Dracula Has Risen from the Grave. 

Café: Had you seen any Hammer films before that movie?

VC: I was a great fan of Hammer. When I went to college--which I did at 16--and before I went to college, I loved Hammer movies. My friends in college loved them, too. There was one occasion when we knew there was a new Hammer film coming out and two or three of us just decided to skip class that day and go see it. We couldn't wait for the evening show, because we also had evening classes. We decided the better class to skip was the afternoon one, so we did. In those days, there were two films and, prior to the second one coming up, we looked around the theater and half the class was there--and unfortunately, so was the professor. He stood up and said: "I shall expect all of you back in class later when you've watched the film. But don't forget, that I've already passed my exams. You've still got yours to go." He let us off with a rather stern warning. But that's how popular Hammer films were and how much we enjoyed them.

Café: Who came up with the idea for the marvelous rooftop sequences in Dracula Has Risen from the Grave?

On the rooftops in Dracula Has Risen
from the Grave.

VC: I think it was in the script and the sets were absolutely extraordinary. Of course, the only way my character could get from her house to see her boyfriend was to go across the rooftops, so people wouldn't see her as they walked through the street. The sets didn't look very high. As you're on the ground looking up, you think: "Oh, that's not bad. " But then when you were up there, looking down, it seemed an awful lot higher--but I enjoyed doing those scenes.

Café: Were there any particular challenges for the actors?

VC: The only setting I was really nervous about was when I was being carried up to the castle on that mountain. It was in the studio. Christopher's (Lee) stunt double, Eddie Powell, carried me and my head was hanging over the precipice. I was very well aware of this and I was trying not to stiffen up in Eddie's arms to make it difficult. That one did make me nervous. Another thing that made me nervous was careening through the woods at the top of that carriage trying not to fall off. I gripped the bar on the coach tightly with my hands. None of it was perilous, of course. They didn't put us in any danger.

Café: You co-starred with Hammer's two biggest stars: Christopher Lee and Peter Cushing. What was it like working with them?

The scene where Christopher Lee
provided the "eye line."

VC: It was a joy. You make assumptions about people and I found how wrong I was. I expected Christopher to be a very aristocratic, rather aloof, dignified man. I was a bit afraid to approach him, but I found him to be the exact opposite. He was very approachable. He was not aloof. He is very dignified. He's got such an aristocratic air and look about him, but he was so kind and so thoughtful in every thing that we did together. He discussed things with me. He asked if I liked the thought of doing something a certain way. I must have thought he was very nice, because I asked him if he would sit for a portrait and he agreed to do so. In thirty-five minutes, I did a sketch of him. He has a lovely, dignified face. That shows you how relaxed I was around him. He gave me an eye line, too, during the filming of Dracula Has Risen from the Grave and I'll never forget that. I was supposed to be looking up, having been thrown to the ground and kidnapped by the lady in the pub. I was to look up and see Dracula and (director) Freddie Francis held up his hand behind the camera and said: "This is your eye line." And then this beautiful voice said: "No, Freddie, I will be her eye line." And Christopher stood right there and he acted off camera as if he was on camera. He gave me all the impetus and input into my reaction. I've never forgotten that. I have always been so very grateful. That moment, I felt true fear. You can't act to a hand. That shows the kind, thoughtful man that Christopher Lee really is.

Café: What about Peter Cushing? I know you're a big fan of his.

Veronica with Peter Cushing.

VC: Everybody is. Every convention I go to, I'm asked about Peter. People wish they could have met him or they were lucky to have once met him. Peter was a sweet, lovely man to work with. I even introduced him to my parents. It's impossible not to love Peter. He was one of the kindest, most sensitive people I have ever met in my life. He got me through that awful rape scene that was thrown into Frankenstein Must Be Destroyed. We worked on that together and he resolved the problems as best he possibly could. Anyway, that's another story.

Café: One of the best sequences in any Hammer film is in Frankenstein Must Be Destroyed, when the water pipe bursts in the garden and exposes a corpse. How did you prepare for this scene?

Drenched in water for perhaps
the second time.

VC:  I didn't really. I knew what was going to happen. The fire department was there. I had to run in completely dressed and dry and just go through it. And, of course, when the force of that water hits you, it takes your breath away and you just take it from there. But George Pravda (Dr. Brandt) had to be put on a board with ropes to help me pull him. I didn't have the strength to pull him out of that mud. I had gotten so cold that I had to go to Roger Moore's dressing room. His dressing room had the deepest bath in it. He was away filming so I was allowed to soak in the bath to get my my body temperature back up because I was so very cold. I thought my teeth were going to break, they were shattering so hard. When I had to do the scene where I was screaming at my poor neighbor, they had to water me down with a watering can. I said: "Well, I hope you've made it warm water." "No, that's not a good idea," they said. "It has to be cold, because otherwise you'd just get even colder." I thought they were lying...that is so not true. Anyway, the water was just as cold the second time. You just have to laugh at these things.

Café: You starred in films directed by Hammer's two best-known directors: Terence Fisher and Freddie Francis. How would you compare the two of them?

Veronica and Peter Cushing in a
publicity still for Fisher's film.

VC: I had each director at the right time. My first real role was in Dracula Has Risen from the Grave and Freddie Francis was endlessly kind and patient. He was a gentle director with no bossing and no shouting. He would give me my morning hug. He would talk about the scene that we were going to do and made me feel totally relaxed and comfortable. He did do a reshoot of a scene with me if he didn't like the result in the rushes the next day, like when I had to walk and see my boyfriend drinking that beer on the stem in the cafe. He didn't want me to go to the rushes because he said I was too critical of myself. So, I didn't go to the daily rushes. I was lucky then because I gained confidence. When I went into my next film, Frankenstein Must Be Destroyed, Terry Fisher was a sterner director with me. He expected me to know more than perhaps I actually did. He was the right guy at the right time. I think if I'd had Terry first, I would have been very, very nervous. He got on so well with Peter (Cushing). They just chatted about. I remember the first day's shooting, I was sitting down on some steps and Peter was alongside me. Terry was there, with his foot on one step, leaning and saying: "How do you want to kill her, Peter?" And Peter was saying: "I've given that a lot of thought, Terry." And then he proceeded to tell Terry how he wanted to kill me. I kept trying to interject with: "Wouldn't this be a good..." They'd say: "No, that wouldn't be a good idea." It was like I wasn't there. It was like listening to a bedtime story of how they were going to kill me. That's how it was decided best to do it. I even asked Terry if I could die with my eyes open and he said: "Certainly not, darling, that would never get past the censors." So, I had to die with my eyes closed.

Café: How would you describe the working atmosphere on a Hammer movie set?

VC: Happy, very happy. It was a very convivial, lighthearted atmosphere, though very serious when we were working. The crew was so obliging. It was just a happy family. There was no dissent. There were no problems. There was no grumbling.

Café: Do you think Horror of Frankenstein would have fared better if it had been marketed as the dark comedy it was?

A publicity still with Ralph Bates
and Kate O'Mara.

VC: I was so upset about that situation because I took Hammer seriously. I felt that very keenly. Jimmy (Sangster) knew that. It was a sort of "laughing at Hammer" reaction. I didn't want that to be that way. You always get people that sneer at horror films anyway. But this was sort of sitting up and begging for it. Jimmy was a lighthearted, serious man--an adorable man--but he just had to have this nudge-nudge, wink-wink humor in the film. I thought it was so degrading to Hammer and he knew I felt this way. He was a fine director, but he just got the message wrong as far as I was concerned. He and Ralph (Bates) got on like a house on fire. They were like two kids together when they got together, super senses of humor really. I'd sit there at lunch time sometimes and just have to walk away. Either the jokes were a bit bawdy or my stomach was hurting from laughing so much because they were so funny. As soon as Jimmy hit the set, he was a serious director. I just thought the film's innuendos mocked Hammer rather than celebrated it.

Café: Many of your American fans are unfamiliar with your 1972 TV series Spyder's Web. What can you tell us about it?

VC: I don't know really. Patricia Cutts, who played the lead, had some weight issues and the directors would get cross with her. It became an unhappy situation in so many ways. I was not particularly happy on that one. What I did like was rehearsing for two weeks and then we'd do the shoot on Saturday. That was fun. I worked with some wonderful actors and actresses in that series, so that was educational and I learned a lot. I think Patricia died not long after that. I don't know why. She did a play in Coventry once and because I lived in Coventry at the time, I went to see her. She came back to our home and we entertained her. She was a very sad lady. She'd had a huge tragedy happen in her life, which I won't discuss. It took her will to live away eventually. That's how it seemed to me.

Café: Is it true that you were almost cast in a James Bond film?

VC: Yes, but I was then under contract to Hammer for the final film I agreed to do. I was not unhappy about that. I walked into Saltzman and Broccoli (the Bond producers) to be interviewed and they said: "Oh, we've got our blonde girl." But that all fell through because I wasn't going to walk away from my happy family, not at all. I don't remember which Bond film it was. I was very torn at the time and I didn't want to think about it. It was whichever Bond film was being made when the Horror of Frankenstein was being made. I don't dwell on things I can't change.

Café: How did you become interested in painting?

This portrait was auctioned for the
Peter Cushing Memorial Window.

VC: I always have been, since I was a very little girl. My first school report was: "Veronica loves to draw." I've always wanted to paint. I went to art school when I was 16, then to college and got a bachelor's degree. I do portraits. I've got a portrait I've just completed of Peter and Vincent (Price) together and had it made into prints. I've done many portraits throughout the time I've been with Hammer. I did several of the ladies that have worked for Hammer that were commissioned by a gentleman from Switzerland. I donated a portrait of Peter Cushing to Whitsable, to his secretary so she could auction it. They wanted to put a window in the church to remember Peter by. There was one portrait, sold at Bray Studios, of Ralph Bates after he passed away. His widow, Virginia Wetherell, was there. I donated that portrait and it went for a very nice sum to raise money for pancreatic cancer research. I've found I can do good things with this gift I have. I just love to work at my easel when life permits me to.

Café: Do you still stay in touch with other Hammer performers and, if so, whom?

A photo from Veronica's Facebook page.

VC: I see Caroline Munro and Martine Beswick. I've met some of the other Hammer girls at a function a couple of years ago in London. All the Hammer girls were there: Stephanie Beacham, Valerie Leon...I'm trying to think of them all now. It was a wonderful time and it was for charity as well--Our Disappearing Planet. There is supposed to be another Hammer reunion this November 8th in London, but I haven't gotten the details on that yet. They've been in touch with me twice, asking if I was going to attend. They're going to try to get all the people that have ever worked for or with Hammer together at one huge function. Sadly, we've lost performers like Kate O'Mara. She passed away not long ago. Yvonne Monlaur is a dear friend of mine. She lives in Paris and I'm hoping she will be coming over for the Monster Bash with Caroline Munro and me. I used to know Ingrid Pitt very well. I miss her very badly. She was a lovely, vibrant woman. Simon Ward has passed away as well. Dear, oh dear, this is becoming a sad interview.

A resin model kit of Veronica will be
unveiled at Resintopia.

Café: Do you have any upcoming appearances that you'd like to share with our readers?

VC: The Hammer day at the London Film Convention on November 8th, which is supposed to be a very, very big to-do. I'm doing the Resintopia Plastic Model Kit and Statue Expo on September 12-14 in Fairfield, New Jersey. Then next month, I will be at Cinema Wasteland Movie & Memorabilia Expo on October 3-5 in Strongsville, Ohio (near Cleveland) and at Monster Bash on October 10-12 in Pittsburgh.


To learn more about Veronica Carlson, you can follow her Twitter @VCarlsonOffic.

(Editor: The James Bond film in question was probably Diamonds Are Forever. It was released in 1971 and Horror of Frankenstein came out in 1970.)

Ursula Andress Is She Who Must be Obeyed

Although Hammer Films remains best known for its horror films, the studio frequently dabbled in other genres. In fact, it achieved solid success with historical adventures about Robin Hood, pirates, and smugglers. Its most ambitious adventure yarn was She (1965), an adaptation of H. Rider Haggard's venerable 1887 novel about "She who must be obeyed." Haggard's novel had reached the screen in several previous incarnations, mostly notably an expensive 1935 version produced by Merian C. Cooper (King Kong) and starring Randolph Scott. Of course, Hammer's She had one thing not found in the earlier films--Ursula Andress.

Set in Palestine in 1918, the tale finds three Army veterans trekking through the desert to find the lost city of Kuma. The reason: The youngest of the trio, Leo (John Richardson), had a vision in which a beautiful woman named Ayesha (Andress) promised endless wealth and more. After overcoming minor obstacles like murderous bedouins and death from thirst, the three men--with assistance from a young woman who fallen for Leo--arrive at their destination.

Andress with Christopher Lee.

They are welcomed hospitably until the local townsfolk realize that Leo's face adorns their local currency. It turns out that he's the spitting image of a previous ruler, who just happened to be Ayesha's lover. It seems that the merciless Kuma queen (hence her nickname of "She who must be obeyed") is over a thousand years old. Naturally, she looks pretty stunning for her age and that seems to be all that matters to Leo. And despite the fact that she murdered her former lover for infidelity, Ayesha appears ready to accept Leo as his reincarnation and live happily forever--literally forever--after.

Peter Cushing as Leo's friend
Major Holly.

After making a string of cost-conscious, profitable pictures, Hammer briefly considered moving to larger-scale productions. She would end up being the studio's most expensive film and it shows on the screen. While it lacks the scope of Hollywood epics like Ben-Hur, She is a vast improvement over earlier Hammer movies that were clearly shot on cheaply-made sets (e.g., the flashbacks in The Mummy). It helps noticeably that the exteriors for She were film in Israel.

Another upgrade for Hammer is James Bernard's soundtrack. Bernard was the studio's "in-house composer" and wrote some marvelous scores for classics like Horror of Dracula. However, due to time constraints, Bernard sometimes had to borrow from himself. Listen closely to the music in the Dracula films and it all sounds very familiar. For She, Bernard crafted separate musical cues for Leo and Ayesha that recur throughout the film--perhaps a little too often. Still, it's a lovely score and one of Bernard's best.

John Richardson as Leo.

Alas, despite the improved production values, She can't overcome sluggish plotting and a dreadful performance from John Richardson. If one removed the desert journey and the extraneous dancing scenes in Kuma, there's probably about 45 minutes of plot left (or so it seems). Still, that might be forgivable with a more convincing lead than the wooden Richardson. Given his portrayal of Leo, it's impossible to fathom why Ayesha seems so intent on making him her immortal lover (we'll talking centuries of marital boredom, people!). I do believe that Richardson must have had an amazing agent, given that he was cast as the love interest for both Ursula Andress and Raquel Welch (One Million Years, B.C.).

The rest of the cast in She ranges from excellent (the always reliable Peter Cushing and Christopher Lee) to adequate (Andress). In Hammer Films: An Exhaustive Filmography, director Robert Day said of his female lead: "She's a great presence but had little experience. I really had to work with her. It wasn't easy!"

Olinka Berova in
Vengeance of She.

Although She failed to be the boxoffice smash Hammer hoped for, it still made money. Three months after its release, the studio announced a sequel called Ayesha--Daughter of She starring Andress. That film never came to fruition nor did another proposed sequel called The Return of She. In 1968, though, Hammer released The Vengeance of She. Initially, the studio planned to cast Susan Denberg (Frankenstein Created Woman) in the lead role, but ultimately it opted for an unknown Czechoslovakian beauty named Olga Schoberova (but billed as the more exotic Olinka Beroka). And in case you were wondering, her co-star was John Richardson.

Finally, for all you Rumpole of the Bailey fans, it was indeed Rumpole's intent to reference H. Rider Haggard's fearsome ruler when he referred to his spouse as "she who must be obeyed."