Basil of Baker Street is The Great Mouse Detective

Basil, the great mouse detective.

The 1980s was a rocky decade for Disney animated films. Several animators, led by Don Bluth, left the studio to create their own movies (e.g., The Secret of NIMH). Disney's much anticipated adaptation of Lloyd Alexander's The Black Cauldron--the studio's first PG-rated animated film--fizzled with critics and the public. Even The Fox and the Hound (1981) and Oliver & Company (1988) were considered disappointments, though each made a profit. Fortunately, Disney ended the '80s on a high note when The Little Mermaid (1989) redefined the animated musical and won two Oscars.

Yet, there was another memorable 1980s Disney film that seems almost forgotten today: The Great Mouse Detective (1986). Based Eve Titus's book series Basil of Baker Street, it features a mouse detective modeled closely after Sherlock Holmes. In fact, Basil lives in Victorian London at 221½ B Baker Street--underneath Sherlock's famous quarters. In lieu of Moriarty, Basil is obsessed with capturing another diabolical genius: Professor Rattigan.

Professor Rattigan, voiced by Vincent Price.

The fiendish rat has kidnapped an inventive toymaker called Flaversham as part of his plan to become "the supreme ruler of Mousedom." When Flaversham refuses to help Rattigan, the professor threatens to imprison the toymaker's daughter Olivia. What he doesn't know is that Olivia has sought the aid of Basil of Baker Street.

While the screenplay lacks the sparkle and wit of Disney classics like 101 Dalmatians (1961), it's still an entertaining yarn filled with colorful characters and clever details. Anyone who has watched a Basil Rathbone Holmes movie will take delight in the scene in which Basil and Dr. Dawson (the Watson equivalent) use disguises to infiltrate a seedy dive by the docks. However, the film's highlight is the climatic confrontation between Basil and Rattigan, which takes place inside and outside Big Ben during a thunderstorm. I think Sir Arthur Conan Doyle would have been pleased!

Miss Kitty performing her number.

The outstanding voice cast features Barrie Ingham as Basil, Vincent Price as Rattigan, Alan Young as Flaversham, and singer Melissa Manchester as Miss Kitty. Price has a grand time as the bigger-than-life villain and even gets to sing in the film's biggest musical number "The World's Greatest Criminal Mind" (co-written by Henry Mancini). Although The Great Mouse Detective is not a musical, it includes two songs. The best of those is "Let Me Be Good to You," an amusing dance hall pastiche written and performed with style by Manchester.

Given Disney's propensity to revisit its animated classics, it's surprising that the studio never made a direct-to-video sequel or a TV series for the Disney Channel. I would have watched the further adventures of Basil of Baker and Dr. Dawson.

Master of the World, or 6,000 Feet in the Air

Vincent Price as Robur.

Jules Verne was a hot property in the late 1950s and 1960s, with movie theaters filled with big-budget adaptations of Around the World in 80 Days (1956), Journey to the Center of the Earth (1959), and Mysterious Island (1961). So, it was inevitable that American International Pictures (AIP) would mount its own Verne extravaganza in 1961 starring Vincent Price. As AIP movies go, Master of the World was a classier effort than usual with a literate script by Richard Matheson and decent special effects.

Set in 1868, it opens with the "eruption" of The Great Eyrie mountain in a small Pennsylvania town. John Strock, an agent for the Department of Interior, enlists the aid of two balloonists to investigate the mysterious incident (townsfolk also reported hearing the "voice of God"). As their balloon nears the mountain's crater, it is seemingly shot down from the sky and crashes. 

Strock (Charles Bronson) and the others awaken aboard a flying fortress called The Albatross. The ship's commander is a pacifist called Robur (Vincent Price), who is willing to employ violence to bring peace to the world. He makes his intentions clear when--after warning a battleship to disarm--he destroys the ship and its crew. Can Strock stop Robur before others die in his path of destruction?

The flying fortress Albatross.

Although based on two Verne novels, Robur the Conqueror and its sequel Master of the World, Matheson's screenplay bears more than a passing resemblance to Disney's 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea (1954). Both Robur and Captain Nemo want to end war, both live in fantastic vessels, and are threatened by survivors that they take aboard (portrayed by Bronson and Kirk Douglas, respectively). Whereas 20,000 Leagues employed a sea lion for comic relief, Master of the World uses a French chef!

Also, while Disney's film was a technological marvel for its time, Master of the World has to make do with a modest budget. The special effects range from serviceable (e.g, the Albatross) to woeful (e.g., the flat painting of The Great Erie). Obvious stock footage, mostly from The Four Feathers (1939), is used extensively.

Charles Bronson as the hero.

Vincent Price carries the film with his authoritative presence, whether playing the proud host to his guests or threatening war to end war. Bronson looks bored as the hero, but frankly it's not a well-written part. The rest of the cast includes Henry Hull as a balloonist (and arms manufacturer), Mary Webster as his adult daughter, and David Frankham as her hot-headed fiancé.

AIP considered making a Master of the World sequel at one point. Pre-production artwork exists for a movie titled Stratofin, which would have given Robur a new fantastical ship called The Terror. Alas, the idea was abandoned and we're left with this one and only outing with The Albatross.

Master of the World played frequently on local channels when I was a kid in the late 1960s and early 1970s. I hadn't seen for many years, though, until it popped up recently on a cable channel called ScreenPix.

Vincent Price Returns as Dr. Phibes

Vincent Price as Dr. Phibes.

When we last saw Dr. Anton Phibes (Vincent Price), he was laying beside his dead wife in an hidden chamber, his blood being replaced with a mysterious fluid. Three years later, the blood-exchange process is reversed and Dr. Phibes--now revived--is rejoined by his faithful female assistant Vulnavia.

To their dismay, they discover their house has been demolished and a valuable papyrus has been stolen. Dr. Phibes immediately suspects Darrus Biederbeck (Robert Quarry), a scientist who knows the papyrus is part of a map that leads to the River of Life. Phibes and Vulnavia steal the ancient fragment and head to Egypt, where Phibes plans to revive his dead wife and secure eternal youth.

Valli Kemp as Vulnavia.

Bieberbeck, who has cheated death for centuries, pursues them in hope of also finding the magical river that will extend his life. Along the way, Phibes dispenses with Bieberbeck's henchmen using methods inspired by Egyptian mythology (e.g., one man is stung to death by scorpions).

If you've seen The Abominable Dr. Phibes (1971), then this 1972 sequel will hold no surprises. Both films derive their dark humor from Price's campy performance and the diabolical, often ingenious, ways that Phibes disposes of his nemeses. The 1920s setting, which added novelty to the first film, is less effective the second time around. That's largely because most of the plot takes place around an Egyptian temple (recreated cheaply on a soundstage).

Price's supporting cast is also far less impressive in the sequel. Peter Cushing and Terry-Thomas add a little spark, but their appearances amount to no more than cameos. Robert Quarry, who proved to be a menacing vampire in Count Yorga, lacks the hubris that made Joseph Cotten a worthy villain in the first Phibes picture.

American International Pictures (AIP) considered making a series of the Dr. Phibes films with colorful titles like Dr. Phibes Ressurectus, Dr. Phibes in the Holy Land, The Son of Dr. Phibes, and The Seven Fates of Dr. Phibes. One sequel would have replaced Vincent Price with David Carradine in the title role! Fortunately, none of those films were made, for although Vincent Price is a delight as the revenge-minded protagonist, two Phibes flicks are more than enough.

Robert Quarry as the villain.

Robert Quarry has said in interviews that AIP signed him to a contract to eventually become Price's successor as the studio's top horror star. Allegedly, a reporter mentioned that to Price on the set of Dr. Phibes Rises Again, thereby creating a small rift between the actors. Still, they both went on to appear in Madhouse (1974), though it was also a boxoffice disappointment.

However, in between the Phibes films and Madhouse, Vincent Price starred in one of his most entertaining movies: Theatre of Blood (1973). He portrayed a Shakespearean actor--presumed dead--who seeks revenge on the critics that vilified him.

Helen Hayes and Mildred Natwick as The Snoop Sisters

Mildred Natwick and Helen Hayes.

Over a decade before Angela Lansbury starred in Murder, She Wrote, Helen Hayes played an elderly mystery author and amateur detective in The Snoop Sisters. The series co-starred Mildred Natwick as Hayes' sister and ran as a 90-minute installment on The NBC Tuesday Mystery Movie during the 1973-74 season. Originally, it shared the time slot with Banacek, Faraday and Company, and Tenafly.

The premise has bestselling writer Ernesta Snoop (Hayes) sharing a large apartment in New York City with her sister Gwendolyn (Mildred Natwick), known to friends simply as G. In the 1972 pilot film, The Female Instinct, Art Carney played the sisters' live-in chauffeur/cook Barney and Lawrence Pressman was their nephew, police Lieutenant Steve Ostrowski.

Lou Antonio as Barney.

By the time the regular series debuted in December 1973, Carney and Pressman had been replaced (Art Carney subsequently won a Best Actor Oscar for 1974's Harry and Tonto). Lou Antonio took over as Barney, transforming the character from a grumpy, elderly ex-con to a younger man who is occasionally befuddled by his employers. Veteran actor Bert Convy assumed the role of the sisters' nephew.

Both cast changes were for the better, especially Antonio whose personality meshes better with Hayes and Natwick. If he looks familiar, you may remember him from Cool Hand Luke or the Star Trek episode "Let That Be Your Last Battlefield."

As a comedy, The Snoop Sisters is a modestly successful TV series that relies heavily on its two stars. Helen Hayes tries a little too hard as Ernesta, stopping just short of playing the part tongue-in-cheek. However, Mildred Natwick finds the perfect balance as G, eliciting chuckles while still making her character believable. Her performance earned her an Emmy for Best Lead Actress in a Limited Series, beating out co-star Helen Hayes among others.

G as the Bride of Frankenstein and Ernesta--minus mask--as the Monster.

As a mystery, The Snoop Sisters falters badly. The murderer is always easy to guess (though in one episode, no one is murdered). Additionally, some episodes have so much comedy that the mystery comes across as an afterthought. Ironically, the best one--"The Devil Made Me Do It!"--is not really a mystery at all, but an interesting tale about a secret witches' coven.

Vincent Price as a suspect.

The guest stars comprise the most delicious aspect of the series. The list includes a number of highly-respected film and stage stars such as Vincent Price, Paulette Goddard, Roddy McDowall, Victor Buono, Cyril Ritchard, Sam Jaffe, Walter Pigeon, Geraldine Page, and Joan Blondell. Most of them have brief appearances, though Price as a hammy actor and Ritchard as a warlock play major parts. Other guest stars include then-promising newcomers like Jill Clayburgh and William Devane. And, in a most unusual choice, Alice Cooper plays a coven leader called Prince and performs a complete song!

Seven Things to Know About Nancy Kovack

1. In the 1990s, Nancy Kovack--who had retired from acting--hired Susan McDougal as her personal assistant. If the name sounds familiar, it's because McDougal was involved in the Whitewater investigation involving Bill and Hillary Clinton. Kovack accused McDougal of embezzlement, though the latter was acquitted. McDougal then sued Kovack for malicious prosecution with the outcome being an out-of-court settlement.

Nancy Novack as Nona in Star Trek.

2. Nancy Kovack was a popular TV series guest star in the 1960s, with her most famous appearance being a second season episode of Star Trek. In "A Private Little War," she plays Nona, the plotting wife of a peaceful villager who resists the use of firearms against a rival tribe. At one point, she saves Captain Kirk's life and claims that he must comply with her wishes.

3. She was born in Flint, Michigan, in 1935. She attended the University of Michigan at the age of 15 (!) and graduated when she was 19. Her first show business jobs included a stint as one of the "Glea Girls" on The Jackie Gleason Show and as a hostess on Beat the Clock.

As Darrin's former girlfriend.

4. She appeared as Darrin's ex-girlfriend, Sheila Sommers, in three episodes of Bewitched--starting with the very first one. Naturally, she plots to get Darrin back. (Am I the only one who wonders why women were so attracted to Darrin?). Nancy Kovack also played another character in a two-part Bewitched episode called "Cousin Serena Strikes Again."

5. Her best year for film roles was probably 1963. She starred as the high priestess Medea in Ray Harryhausen's fabulous Jason and the Argonauts. Her provocative dance number has over 53,000 views on YouTube. She also played Vincent Price's love interest in Diary of a Madman. In an interview with author Tom Weaver, she recalled: "I remember that just before the scene where he kills me with the knife, Vincent was tickling me and I was laughing, and I couldn't stop laughing after that!"

6. Nancy Kovack married the famous conductor Zubin Mehta in 1969. He had the reputation of being a "ladykiller" and was known by friends as Zubie Baby. They met at a party and were talking about marriage two weeks later.

7. Except for a handful of TV guest star appearances, Nancy Kovack retired from acting after her marriage. Her last role was in a 1976 episode of Cannon. Now 83, she helped her husband Zubin recover from a cancerous tumor in 2018.

Vincent Price Disappears...in The Invisible Man Returns

While James Whale's Bride of Frankenstein is widely regarded as a masterpiece, I'm always surprised that his adaptation of H.G. Wells' The Invisible Man (1933) remains largely overlooked. Personally, I may even prefer it over Bride, given its striking visuals and Claude Rains' standout performance (all the more impressive because his face is never shown until the end). Thus, it is somewhat surprising that Universal waited seven years to make a sequel. I suspect the long gap can be attributed to securing the rights to make sequels to the Wells novel.

The Invisible Man Returns opens with Geoffrey Radcliffe (Vincent Price) in prison for the murder of his brother--and just hours away from the gallows. Following a visit from his friend, Dr. Frank Griffin (John Sutton), Geoffrey miraculously escapes from his cell...although the guards find his clothes lying on the floor.

No, that's not Darth Vader--but Jeff
wearing a gas mask.

Frank Griffin, of course, is the brother of Jack Griffin, the scientist who invented the invisibility formula in the original film. Frank hasn't solved the serum's two biggest drawbacks: (1) there is no way to become visible again; (2) the formula eventually causes madness. So, while Geoffrey tries to uncover the real murderer of his brother, Frank tries to create an antidote.

The Invisible Man Returns is a solid sequel, but certainly not on par with its 1933 predecessor. It benefits from a first-rate supporting cast led by Sir Cedric Hardwicke as the villain, Alan Napier as a bribed accomplice, and Cecil Kellaway as a Scotland Yard inspector. (Also on hand is Mary Gordon, who would play Mrs. Hudson in the Universal Sherlock Holmes films.) The film's biggest assets, though, are its star, special effects, and trademark Universal atmosphere.

Cecil Kellaway, the Invisible Man outlined in smoke,
and Cedric Hardwicke.

Vincent Price had appeared memorably in the preceding year's The Private Lives of Elizabeth and Essex (as Walter Raleigh) and Tower of London (as the Duke of Clarence). The Invisible Man Returns provided him with his first starring role. Just as with Claude Rains in the original, Price's face remains behind bandages for almost the entire film. However, Price's distinctive voice conveys all the requisite emotion as his character evolves from mild paranoiac to egomaniac.

John P. Fulton, who created the invisibility special effects for the 1933 film, returned for the sequel. He earned an Academy Award nomination for his amazing effects (losing to Lawrence W. Butler for The Thief of Bagdad). Fulton would also earn Oscar nominations for his optical tricks for The Invisible Woman (1941) and Invisible Agent (1942). He eventually won two Oscars, in 1945 for the Danny Kaye comedy Wonder Man and in 1956 for Cecil B. DeMille's The Ten Commandants.

The Invisible Man stealing clothes.

Director Joe May, who worked with Fritz Lang in Germany, lacks the visual flair of James Whale. However, he has his moments, such as when Geoffrey steals clothes from a scarecrow against a desolate gray sky. Although May contributed to the script, I suspect the wittiest lines (Geoffrey's girlfriend: "Geoff, when shall I see you?") can be attributed to Curt Siodmak. While his brother Robert carved out a successful career as a director (The Spiral Staircase, The Killers), Curt penned screenplays for horror classics such as The Wolf Man (1940), I Walked With a Zombie (1943), and Frankenstein Meets the Wolf Man (1943).

I think The Invisible Man Returns would have worked better as a legitimate mystery with an invisible detective. As it is, there is only one likely suspect and, sure enough, he turns out to be the killer. Still, with a running time of 81 minutes, it doesn't overstay its welcome and the efforts of Price and Fulton make it worthwhile.

Jacques Tourneur's Final Film: War-Gods of the Deep

Star Susan Hart later married AIP
founder James H. Nicholson.

When a solicitor's body washes up on the Cornish coast, mining engineer Ben Harris (Tab Hunter) goes to the local hotel to see the dead man's employer, fellow American Jill Tregillis (Susan Hart). Jill only knows that Mr. Penrose, the solicitor, went missing. When Ben enters the dead man's room--darkened due to a power outage--he discovers a human-like creature that seemingly disappears. A short time later, Jill is kidnapped and Ben and hotel guest Harold (David Tomlinson) discover a secret passage that leads from the hotel to (pause for effect) an underwater city.

It's a fabulous start to what promises to be a rollicking turn-of-the-century adventure in the vein of 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea. Unfortunately, War-Gods of the Deep (also known as the more obvious City in the Sea) fails to deliver on its promise. One can't fault a game cast and a fine director working on his final film at age 61.

After directing such classics as Out of the Past, Cat People, and Berlin Express, Jacques Tourneur turned to television for employment in the late 1950s and 1960s. He directed episodes of The Barbara Stanwyck Show, Bonanza, Twilight Zone, and other series. He still helmed occasional films, including the 1958 gem Curse of the Demon, but he was more likely to be offered pictures such as the Italian import Giant of Marathon (1959).  Then, in the mid-1960s, American International Pictures (AIP) signed him to do the funny horror spoof The Comedy of Terrors and War-Gods of the Deep.

A glimpse of the creature!

Tourneur makes War-Gods look much more expensive than its budget. He also infuses the opening scenes with a mysterious atmosphere, with the whistling seashore winds and overhead shots of the steep cliffs. He employs careful lighting that provides a perfect glimpse of the creature that kidnaps Jill (reflecting mentor Val Lewton's contention that showing less is always scarier). The underwater city's sets, bathed in orange, blue, and red, are fairly impressive, too. It helped no doubt that Daniel Haller was one of the film's producers. Haller spent much of his career as an art director, working with Roger Corman on films such as The Pit and the Pendulum. Haller built his reputation on creating expensive-looking sets on a dime.

Vincent Price as the ruler of the
city under the sea.

With a better script, Tourneur might have made a "B" movie classic--but it's the script that dooms War-Gods of the Deep. The original screenwriter was Charles Bennett, who worked on several Hitchcock films (The 39 Steps, Sabotage, Foreign Correspondent) as well as Curse of the Demon. However, Bennett wasn't used to working under AIP's short production schedules, in which a script had to be written from start to finish in under three weeks. Additionally, the only source material was Edgar Allan Poe's poem The City in the Sea, which doesn't have a plot (of course). In Tom Weaver's book Science Fiction Stars and Horror Heroes, screenwriter Louis M. Heyward recalls:

War-Gods was being shot in England and they ran into problems with the then-producer....I called, and he said, "Dear lad, the script's impossible." I said, "Most of our scripts are impossible!" (And the ones that weren't impossible were improbable!) He said, "I can't possibly shoot."

The beautiful Cornish coast.

AIP executive Sam Arkoff asked Heyward to rewrite the screenplay and, according to actress Susan Hart, the script was tweaked as Tourneur shot the film. Heyward's contributions, including a humorous character played by Tomlinson (who totes around a pet chicken!), don't salvage the film. There are far too many scenes where the characters just stand around and talk once they reach the underwater city. There are hints that the city's denizens are immortal, but that angle is never fully explored. Finally, the climax--which takes place largely underwater--looks like slow motion and is practically incomprehensible because (except for the close-ups) you can't tell who is who. (In general, I am not a fan of protracted underwater scenes; I have similar issues with Thunderball.)

As for the cast, Vincent Price makes a believable villain, Tab Hunter is an acceptable hero, and Susan Hart looks stunning in what is actually a small role. Hunter and Hart also appeared together (as a couple no less) in the much more enjoyable Ride the Wild Surf.

War-Gods of the Deep is not a dreadful film. It's a frustrating film--with a great opening that leads nowhere.

The Five Best Movie Gimmicks

The "Golden Era of Movie Gimmicks" was in the late 1950s and 1960s when producer William Castle came up with some very innovative ways to lure audiences to his low-budget thrillers and horror films. Although Castle remains the undisputed King of Gimmicks, there were memorable ones before and after him. The Cafe takes a shot at listing the five best movie gimmicks:

The shadow of the Tingler. Scream,
scream for your life!

1. The Tingler - Vincent Price stars as a doctor who discovers a crustacean-like creature that grows at the base of the spine during moments of intense fright. When one screams, the creature reduces in size and becomes harmless. However, if you’re too afraid to scream, the Tingler snaps your spine, causing instant death! At the film's climax, Price surgically removes a Tingler, which subsequently escapes to a movie theater below him.  The screen goes black and Price urges the real movie audience to: “Scream!  Scream for your lives!” To heighten the effect, some patrons at selected movie theaters received mild electric shocks (yes, Castle had actually wired some of the seats!). 

2. House on Haunted Hill - If five guests can spent the night in Vincent Price's haunted house, each will receive $10,000. Castle's big gimmick, dubbed “Emergo” (love the name!), was simply a skeleton on a wire which projectionists dropped over unsuspecting viewers during the film’s big shock scene. Again, the gimmick was only used in selected theaters, although it was recreated for a New York City film festival in 2010. 

3. Scent of Mystery - Mike Todd, Jr. produced this light mystery about a novelist trying to save an heiress (an unbilled Elizabeth Taylor) from a murder plot. In selected theatres, over 30 aromas were piped in via plastic tubes at appropriate points in the film--this was dubbed “Smell-O-Vision.” There have also been other attempts to create smelly movies, the most famous being John Waters' campy Polyester, which took the low-tech route with scratch-and-sniff cards (Waters, who has a great appreciation of "B" cinema history, called his gimmick Odorama).

If you can see these ghosts, you
must be wearing your glasses!

4. 13 Ghosts - This second haunted house movie (albeit a family-friendly one) from Castle was filmed in "Illusion-O." With this gimmick, Castle provided viewers with filtered glasses which allowed them to see the movie’s “invisible” ghosts.

5. Earthquake - The most expensive and large-scale gimmick (short of 3-D) was Sensurround, in which a film's soundtrack was amplified in certain scenes to cause a rumbling sensation. It also caused headaches.  The first Sensurround film was the disaster flick Earthquake in 1974. It was followed by Midway (1976) and Rollercoaster (1977).

Honorable Mentions:  Macabre (Castle offered a $1000 life insurance policy if anyone died of fright while watching the movie); Homicidal and Ten Little Indians (1965) paused the action momentarily for a "Fright Break" and a "Murder Minute," respectively; the otherwise forgettable thriller Wicked, Wicked was shot in "Duovision," meaning that  almost the entire movie was shown in split-screen so the audience could follow simultaneously-occurring events; and, finally, Robert Montgomery filmed all of the Philip Marlowe mystery The Lady in the Lake in first-person (Marlowe is only glimpsed via reflections).

Ante Meridiem Theatre: “The Fly” (1958)

Ante Meridiem Theatre is a new feature at the Cafe to focus on those movies that, years ago, would crop up on TV in the wee hours of the morning, when you were only partially awake, and right before the network turned to snow.
A night watchman at a factory finds a woman standing next to a hydraulic press and a crushed body. The woman, Helene (Patricia Owens), flees and later calls her brother-in-law, Francois (Vincent Price), to tell him that she’s killed her husband (and Francois’ brother), Andre. Francois is initially skeptical but his brother’s death is quickly confirmed and made all the more confusing when Helene claims that she operated the press but Andre had lain his head and arm under the machine. Francois and Inspector Charas (Herbert Marshall) find Andre’s laboratory (a madman’s lab, according to Francois), and Helene is seemingly obsessed with flies and becomes hysterical when her nurse swats one of the insects. Eventually, Helene tells the story of Andre (David Hedison), who had invented a device capable of transporting matter, suitably titled the Disintegrator-Integrator. His invention is successful, but one day, he locks the lab door. Slipping notes under the door, Andre informs his wife that he cannot speak and that he needs her help, though she must promise to not look at him. Inside, Andre’s head and face are covered by a cloak, and he keeps his left hand hidden. Helene must find a specific fly, one with a white head, for Andre to correct the ghastly accident which occurred when he transported himself -- not realizing that a fly was in the machine with him.

When I was younger, some of the local cable channels would show numerous horror and sci-fi films late at night and into the early morning hours. Vincent Price was the star of many of these movies, and my brother and I were huge fans, my brother filling a stack of VHS tapes with Vincent Price films. Some our favorites were House of Wax (1953), The Last Man on Earth (1964), and the Dr. Phibes movies (1971-72). Kurt Neumann’s The Fly (1958) is perhaps not the best film to watch for Price fanatics, as over half of the film is Helene’s flashback, in which Price’s character, Francois, only appears in a couple of segments. But despite Price as a supporting character, the actor’s presence has made The Fly a Vincent Price movie.
The Fly is a superb film, and its structure works wonderfully. Rather than open with the genesis of a scientist’s creation, it starts with the aftermath, the shocking image of Helene -- in a dress and with her hair up -- standing next to a bloody body. The first act of the movie consists of Francois and the inspector investigating the crime scene and Andre’s lab, while Helene provides only a few details. The flashback slowly and effectively builds to the accident and invariable reveal of Andre’s new head and arm. Andre as the fly is finally seen with only about 20 minutes remaining, but the gradual suspense -- including Helene and her son trying to catch the fly that Andre says he’ll need to reverse the procedure -- makes the long wait anything but disappointing. Unfortunately, the more overt qualities overwhelm the movie’s subtleties, as the intriguing concept of Andre’s waning humanity is given little development. But the film remains engaging throughout and has a terrific ending -- Francois finds the much-desired white-headed fly.

A sequel followed in 1959, called Return of the Fly. In it, Andre and Helene’s young son has grown and is trying to redeem his father’s name and reputation by continuing his work. Similar results ensue, courtesy of dissimilar circumstances. Price reprises his role of Francois. A second sequel, Curse of the Fly (1965), was produced in the UK and follows the son and grandson of Andre -- though the son now has a different name. They experiment with teleportation, and before long... well, you can guess what happens. Brian Donlevy, who portrayed the titular scientist in two of the Quartermass movies from British studio, Hammer Films, stars as Andre’s son. Director Don Sharp also made movies for Hammer.
Some viewers see the 1958 film as campy, particularly Andre the fly -- though I think he looks creepy, and I especially enjoy his thousand-eyed point-of-view of Helene. There was no sign of campiness in Canadian filmmaker David Cronenberg’s remake in 1986. The movie starred Jeff Goldblum as scientist Seth Brundle who impresses a beautiful journalist, Veronica (Geena Davis), with his Telepods -- devices that can teleport an object from one machine to the next. The most significant difference between the remake and the original is that, while in the original the scientist and the fly “swapped” molecules (and body parts), in the remake the biological makeup of both fuse and create a singular being. This causes Seth to metamorphose into a new creature -- he calls himself “Brundlefly.” The movie is decidedly more horrific and more grotesque, and though the 1958 movie is good, Cronenberg’s remake is even better. There was also an okay sequel to the ‘86 movie: The Fly II (1989), with Eric Stoltz as Seth’s son who -- blah, blah, blah, he becomes a fly!

Suffice to say, teleportation never seems to work out well in movies, or literature, for that matter (example: Stephen King’s short story, “The Jaunt”, from the collection, Skeleton Crew). People are often excited about technological advances, but The Fly represents a fear of new technology -- Helene explicitly voices her apprehension -- and the potential (and feasibly harmful) side effects of unfamiliar machinery. Most technology is about convenience. Sure, it’d be great to quickly teleport to a place miles away, much like the speed of messaging via texts and email. But would I take a fly head and arm in exchange for Apple’s new iTeleport? Nah, I’ll just walk.

Roger Corman Blogathon: Creating an Illusion of the Supernatural in "Tomb of Ligeia"

(This review is part of the June 17-19 Roger Corman Blogathon, hosted by Forgotten Classics of Yesteryear. Click here to check out the rest of the blogathon entries. The review below was originally written in 1979 for a film class taught by noted Hitchcock historian James Naremore. It does contain plot spoilers and assumes you’ve seen the movie. For the record, I got an A- on it…but an A for the course!)

The last of Roger Corman’s Poe adaptations, Tomb of Ligeia (1964) is generally considered the second best of the series, with top honors going to Masque of the Red Death. Yet, while Ligeia may not be as “finished” as the earlier film (to quote the New York Times review), it represents Corman channeling Hitchcock by creating a thematic cousin to Rebecca.

Adapted from a Poe short story by Robert Towne (Chinatown), Tomb of Ligeia stars Vincent Price as Verden Fell, a Victorian gentleman recovering from the death of his beloved wife Ligeia. To perhaps even his own surprise, he meets and quickly marries the strong-willed Lady Rowena (Elizabeth Shepherd) and brings her to his dilapidated country estate. Rowena quickly learns that Ligeia still maintains a hold on Verden, whether it’s through supernatural means or merely in Verden’s mind. Like the second Mrs. de Winter in Rebecca, she believes she must battle the memories—or ghost—of Ligeia in order to save her marriage. But unlike the second Mrs. de Winter, Rowena begins to worry that she is becoming Ligeia.

While the parallels with Rebecca are obvious, Hitchcock never suggested a supernatural presence. Corman, on the other hand, strives to create the illusion of it through his use of setting and narrative viewpoint. One of the most important characters in Ligeia is the abbey on Verden’s estate. In fact, the film’s title refers to the abbey, which is—in reality—the tomb of Ligeia. By treating the abbey as a character, Corman suggests that it is alive or perhaps even haunted by a ghost. There are no doors which open and close at will; Corman is more subtle than that. Instead, the abbey becomes the setting of all the “supernatural” events. As long as Verden and Rowena are outside of the abbey (e.g., on their honeymoon), they are happy. However, once they return to the decaying abbey, their happiness is shattered.

An example of the abbey’s influence is when Rowena, under Verden’s hypnotic spell, inexplicably becomes Ligeia. At first, this appears to be a supernatural occurrence, but it can also be explained by the influence of the abbey (containing memories of Ligeia) on Rowena’s subconscious mind. No matter where she goes in the abbey, Rowena is confronted by memories of Ligeia (e.g., Ligeia’s cat and portrait…shades of the dog and painting in Rebecca). In fact, the influence of the abbey and its memories are so strong that Rowena begins to dream about Ligeia.

Corman also creates a supernatural quality through his use of narrative viewpoints. Throughout Ligeia, it is difficult to discern who is telling the story and when the camera is being subjective. Corman seems to change viewpoints as the film progresses, presenting his story from four different viewpoints: third-person objective, Ligeia, Rowena, and Verden.

The film begins with a third-person narrative, as if Corman is telling the story and we are watching. This viewpoint represents the “reality” in Ligeia. There is nothing supernatural about events such as the fox hunt or Verden’s sudden appearance at the graveyard. And nothing supernatural occurs while Rowena and Verden are on their honeymoon. As long as Corman remains outside the abbey, his narrative viewpoint remains objective and realistic.

However, once Rowena enters the abbey, the film begins to change its narrative. Sometimes, it seems as if Ligeia is the camera and she is spying on Rowena and Verden. Corman's camera peeks into bedrooms and follows Rowena down the darkened hallways in long dolly shots. The camera (Ligeia) spies on Rowena and her former beau Christopher when they have breakfast on the porch. As they talk about Verden’s strange behavior, the camera zooms beyond them and to the tower. It seems as if Ligeia is laughing at them because they know nothing of her secret.

Finally, the camera also becomes subjective at several points in the film, allowing the audience to see what Rowena or Verden is seeing. This subjectivity often adds a supernatural quality to something that could be easily explained. Following the cat’s first attack on Rowena, she becomes convinced that the cat is trying to keep her away from Verden. This belief continues to the point where she believes that the cat is Ligeia. When Corman gives us a close-up of Rowena's face, then a shot of the cat, you see the cat the way Rowena does--as a creature intent on killing her. Hence, the montage scene in which Rowena runs from room to room and finds the cat waiting in each is purely subjective. Rowena imagined the cat’s movements and we saw them because she did.

A better example of this technique is in the final scene. Verden carries Rowena out of Ligeia's tower room. When he lays her on the stone floor, he sees that she has transformed into Ligeia. This would appear to be the most supernatural event in the movie: We see Verden carry out Rowena; we see him lay Ligeia down. Yet, Corman has deceived us by changing viewpoints in the scene. Verden did carry out Rowena, but she did not change into Ligeia--except in Verden’s mind. When Christopher walks into the room, we see the two lovers from his viewpoint. Verden is holding Rowena, not Ligeia (as he imagines). When Verden starts to strangle her, he too sees Rowena. But it has been Rowena all the time, because Verden imagined the transformation.

Throughout Tomb of Ligeia, Corman plays with the audience’s perceptions. He has structured his film so that it can be viewed as either a supernatural tale or a suspense drama. Corman’s dividing line between the two is a very thin one. More importantly, he has created a finely-textured film in which what we see isn’t influenced by just our own perceptions. The eye of the beholder is important, but of equal weight is the identity of the beholder. Ligeia challenges the viewer to take note of who is seeing what…as well as what they are really seeing.

Dr. Goldfoot and the Bikini Machine (AND Vincent Price!)

Don’t expect to see Jody McCrea as Bonehead, fake surfing scenes, or the girl in the fringed dress shaking her … fringe. Don’t even expect to see more than a short glimpse of a beach! However, Dr. Goldfoot and Bikini Machine (hereafter, Dr. Goldfoot) is a spin-off of the beach party movies, and there are plenty of bikinis. It was produced in 1965 by American International, same filmmakers and writers, with claymation opening by Art Clokey. You will see funny cameos of Annette Funicello, Harvey Lembeck as Erich von Zipper, and Deborah Walley (the Gidget who went Hawaiian).
 

"The eyes of Goldfoot are upon you!"

Fred Clark

The best of Dr. Goldfoot is the amazing Vincent Price as the mad scientist with the golden shoes that resemble the footwear of Santa’s elves, complete with curled up toes. Price is obviously having a ball with his character, and thank heaven he is in almost all of the scenes. Without him, the movie would have been …well, pretty bad. Beach party alumnus Frankie Avalon plays Craig Gamble, a bumbling, clueless doofus who works for SIC, Secret Intelligence Command. Even though Craig is assistant to SIC director his Uncle Don (played by Fred Clark, droll and curmudgeonly), Craig has never moved up the ladder in the spy game – his code name is 00 ½. After Craig does something particularly stupid, Uncle Don demotes him to 00 ¼ , reminding him that he must remember he is a SIC man! So true.

Susan Hart

Dr. Goldfoot has created a 12-robot army, all gorgeous girls dressed in golden bikinis. He has programmed each one to seduce and marry 12 particular rich men and get their assets signed over, all of course to be given to Dr. Goldfoot. His assistant, Igor (Jack Mullaney) is not a hunchbacked dwarf. He has a greater handicap – he is really stupid! The exchanges between Price and Mullaney are hilarious. Poor Dr. Goldfoot regrets that he ever resurrected Igor from the dead, and is constantly berating him for being a blithering idiot, moron, etc. etc. Poor Igor just can’t win: (“Igor, you idiot! Why must you listen to me when I’m WRONG?!”).  Price often shouts to Igor “Shaddup!” -- a funny departure from Price’s otherwise perfect grammar and diction. One of the rich targets is Todd Armstrong (Dwayne Hickman), who isn’t much brighter than Craig Gamble. Robot #11, Diane (lovely Susan Hart) is assigned to entice Todd . The two men are involved in a mix-up of identity for Diane. (This was an inside joke for AIP studio – in Ski Party, Hickman had played a character named Craig Gamble, and Avalon was Todd Armstrong – there are some references to this name switch throughout Dr. Goldfoot.) The slapstick unfolding of the plot holds no surprises, as in most of the beach party movies. In this one, it’s all about the good comedy script and really well-done comic delivery by Price, Avalon, Hickman and Mullaney.

Frankie Avalon

Dwayne Hickman

Some amusing aspects of Dr. Goldfoot include Dr. Goldfoot’s castle-like abode. It features not only a modern robot laboratory, but also an inquisition-type dungeon (complete with pit and pendulum, many shots of which are actual scenes from Price’s The Pit and the Pendulum.) His inventions include two “gifts” which the robots can give to possible female rivals – opera glasses which shoot out poisoned darts when help up to the eyes, and lipstick that fires laser beams when applied. There are, of course, many sex-referenced jokes:  (Robot Diane bends over a flat tire, pulling up her trench coat to reveal her bikini-topped leg, and opening her coat to reveal the whole package. She says to Todd “I’m completely flat!”, to which Todd naturally replies “Oh, I wouldn’t say that.”). Dr. Goldfoot features only one song, and it is a completely forgettable, really bad number done by “Sam and the Apemen.” I bet you've never heard of them. Neither has anyone else. Price said later that the movie was supposed to have more numbers, and he was disappointed that it did not. It did, however, have The Supremes singing the title song. One very entertaining musical feature is heard when the robots are confused about their missions – sound effects include bits and pieces of those used in War of the Worlds and Forbidden Planet. AIP also released a sequel called Dr. Goldfoot and the Girl Bombs. Apparently, both Dr. Goldfoot movies were the inspiration for Mike Myers’ Austin Powers “fembots”.

Dr. Goldfoot is really funny, and I didn’t expect it to be that good. Price is the glue that holds it together, and spoofs himself beautifully. Avalon and Hickman also have real comic flair as the dimwitted duo. Here are a few stills from the movie (courtesy of bmoviescentral), to which I attached quotes from the movie:

"Creating a lovely creature like that to
waste her ... ammunition ... on a pauper?!"

No quote here. One might wonder about Avalon's
expression ... but this is a G-rated movie!

"Why me?  Why is it always me?"

"It can't be!"

Champagne for Caesar: Bubbling Over With Fun!

I don’t know what it is about bubbles but I like them. Glinda used a large bubble to transport herself in The Wizard of Oz. Doris Day sold Happy Soap in The Thrill of It All, which included a scene with a bubble-filled pool into which an unhappy James Garner drives his car. In Champagne for Caesar, bubbles are used on the set of the TV quiz show "Masquerade for Money” and fittingly call to mind the show’s sponsor, Milady Soap, which is advertised as “the soap that sanctifies.” But, bubbles are also reminiscent of champagne, so their use has a double meaning.

Champagne for Caesar is a fun, lesser-known film, in which neither champagne nor Caesar plays a critical role in the story. The latter is actually a parrot with some bad habits taught to him by college students. The former is one of the preferred habits of said bird.

The movie focuses on Beauregard Bottomley, a genius who has trouble finding work and shares a small bungalow with his sister Gwenn and the parrot. Beauregard is delightfully played by the versatile, silver-tongued Ronald Colman. The siblings observe a TV show aired on a small television in a store window around which a number of other people have gathered. The program is called “Masquerade for Money” where contestants dress up as a character about whom the host, Happy Hogan, then asks questions.

The following day, Beauregard is sent on a job interview to the Milady Soap Company. This company features a room with arms that hold various items, and reminded me a bit of La Belle et La Bete. Beauregard is introduced to the unforgettable company owner, Burnbridge Waters, who calls him a “dreamer,” doesn’t like his humor, and does not hire him.

Beauregard comes up with an idea. He knows that “Masquerade for Money” is sponsored by the Milady Soap Company and he figures the worth of the company to be approximately $40 million. He dresses as the Encyclopedia Brittanica and appears on the show. He welcomes any and all questions and answers them accurately and, often quite humorously, as well. Each time an answer is correct the amount won doubles. He then refuses to take the money and insists on coming back each week. Everyone loves him and the sales of Milady Soap soar. But then reality sets in: what if Beauregard never makes an error?

Milady Soap needs a secret weapon and they find one, in the beautiful and intellectual Flame O’Neill, who is presented to Beauregard as a gift from the Beauregard Bottomley Billings Montana Fan Club when he is sick with a cold. Flame arrives dressed as a saintly nurse and relieves neighbor Frosty (aren’t the names a hoot?) of her charge.

The story line is often predictable, but it is quite fun to see everything play out because of the talented, eclectic, and capable cast.

Vincent Price gives one of his best comedic performances as Burnbridge Waters, a character who occasionally leaves this plane of existence for a few moments at a time. When he is tempted to end his problems by pushing Beauregard into a vat making soap, Burnbridge’s devilish alter-ego appears on his shoulder to encourage him in the evil task.

Flame O’Neill is expertly performed by Celeste Holm, who offers a wicked little giggle when her ill charge is trying to sleep. She is the perfect temptation for Beauregard, but he does eventually cause her to have “Bottomley” trouble.

Gwenn Bottomley, the piano-teaching sister of Beauregard, is enchantingly portrayed by the gorgeous Barbara Britton, who may be best remembered for her twelve years as a Revlon Girl and for bringing Pamela North to TV in Mr. & Mrs. North.

Art Linkletter, who died this May at the age of 97, was quite good as the host of “Masquerade for Money” Happy Hogan.

The role of Frosty, the shapely neighbor who is ogled by all the men except Beauregard, was convincingly acted by Ellye Marshall, whose resume only includes five films.

Mel Blanc lent his remarkable voice to Caesar, the parrot.

Director Richard Whorf had a very successful career directing on TV including several episodes of Have Gun - Will Travel, Gunsmoke, My Three Sons, and The Beverly Hillbillies.

Champage for Caesar is available on DVD. Let the bubbles begin!