Richard Greene Rides Again as Robin Hood

Richard Greene as Robin Hood.

Sandwiched between The Men of Sherwood Forest (1954) and A Challenge for Robin Hood (1967), Hammer Films produced Sword of Sherwood Forest (1960). This action opus about the legendary English outlaw stands out for one big reason: It stars Richard Greene, famous for playing the title role in The Adventures of Robin Hood TV series. As all Robin Hood fans know, that's the one where he's "riding through glen with his band of men."

One might think that Sword of Sherwood Forest is a big screen continuation of the TV series that ran from 1955-59. However, that's not the case in terms of the storyline and the cast (with the exception of Greene and some minor players). The film features veteran actors in most of the major roles: Nigel Green (Hercules in Jason and the Argonauts) as Little John, Niall MacGinnis (Night of the Demon) as Friar Tuck, and Hammer regular Peter Cushing as the Sheriff of Nottingham. 

Peter Cushing as the Sheriff.

Screenwriter Alan Hackney wisely dispenses with the typical Robin Hood origin story. His tale has the Sheriff of Nottingham collaborating with the greedy Earl of Newark (Richard Pasco) to steal land by manipulating the court system. Maid Marian, who is the Sheriff's niece in this version, gets wind of their scheme. When her uncle won't change his evil ways, she seeks help from the Chancellor of England, who is visiting the area in his other capacity as Archbishop of Canterbury. 

Meanwhile, Robin is trying to figure out why the Sheriff killed an unknown traveler. Along the way, he happens on Marian, who has just bathed in a lake (it's a Hammer film, after all). Despite her feeble protests, there is an instant attraction between the two (although Robin is almost twice her age). But before they can get together, the Earl of Newark must be stopped before he can assassinate the Chancellor.

Hammer's most renowned director, Terrence Fisher, keeps Sword of Sherwood Forest moving briskly through its 80-minute running time. There are a plethora of outdoor scenes, perhaps in an attempt to keep production costs down. Contemporary reviews call it colorful, but, unfortunately, the print used for Mill Creek's Blu-ray disc (part of the Hammer Ultimate Collection) is a muted one. 

Sarah Branch as Marian.

Greene still has the required panache to play Robin, but, at age 41, he lacks the physicality required for the role (it's easy to spot his stunt double). Chemistry is definitely lacking between his Robin and Sarah Branch's Marian. The former model had little prior acing experience at the time and, though she tries, she seems miscast as a spunky heroine.

Peter Cushing and Richard Pasco excel as the villains. The problem is that, in a movie this short, there's only room for one villain. As a result, Cushing's Sheriff of Nottingham gets nudged into the background all too often. It's a shame to waste an actor of Cushing's caliber.

Finally, it's always fun to see who pops in British films of the 1960s. In uncredited roles, look for the following:  Desmond Llewelyn (Q in many Bond films) as the "wounded fugitive" at the beginning; Derren Nesbitt (Von Hapen in Where Eagles Dare) as Martin, one of the merry men; and Oliver Reed as Newark's henchman. I am convinced that Oliver Reed was dubbed, even though some sources contradict that claim.

Everybody Was Kung Fu Fighting...Vampires!

John Forbes-Robertson as Dracula.

I first saw The Legend of the 7 Golden Vampires in a re-edited U.S. print called The Seven Brothers Meet Dracula. Let me start this review by encouraging you to never see that movie! It eliminates 14 minutes of plot and, if memory serves, still repeats a couple of scenes. Even the title change makes no sense as one of the "brothers" is a sister.

So, it was with trepidation that I watched The Legend of the 7 Golden Vampires (1974) several years later. My concerns were quickly put to rest as I viewed this wacky, wildly entertaining blend of vampires and kung fu. Over the years, it has become an annual Halloween tradition for this reviewer.

The film begins in Transylvania in 1804 with a Chinese monk named Kah journeying to Castle Dracula. Kah, an evil high priest, used to rule the village of Ping Kuei with his seven Golden Vampires. However, their power is fading and Kah wants Dracula to return them to full strength. Initially, Dracula shrugs off the idea because, obviously, he gains nothing from it. However, realizing that Transylvania has been sucked dry of blood, Dracula kills Kah, assumes his form, and heads to Asia to build a new empire with the Golden Vampires.

Cushing as Van Helsing.

A century later, Hsi Ching, a young man from Ping Kuei, seeks out Professor Van Helsing (Peter Cushing). Hsi Ching wants the famous vampire hunter, who has been lecturing at a Chungking University, to help his fellow villagers destroy the Golden Vampires and their leader. Van Helsing agrees and sets off on a trek to Ping Kuei accompanied by his son Leyland, Hsi Ching and his siblings, and a wealthy, beautiful widow (Julie Ege) who has financed the mission. Along the way, the group is confronted by bandits, staves off a vampire attack in a cave (the film's highlight), and eventually battles the Golden Vampires and Count Dracula.

Although kung fu and vampires might seem like unlikely bedfellows, The Legend of the 7 Golden Vampires merges the two genres seamlessly. The film was a co-production between Hammer Films and Shaw Bros. However, it's definitely a "Hammer film" and boasts the studio's usual polish (e.g., good-looking costumes, James Bernard's music). Peter Cushing, playing Van Helsing (or a descendant) for the fifth and final time, also provides some much-needed of gravitas. 

Most of the film was directed by Hammer veteran Roy Ward Baker. However, according to Geoff Mayer's book Roy Ward Baker, Shaw Bros. executive Run Run Shaw insisted that the fight scenes be overseen by his in-house director Chang Cheh. 

David Chiang as Hsi Ching.

David Chiang, who plays Hsi Ching, was already a popular Asian star and punches and kicks with authority when it's time to pummel vampires. On the other hand, his character's romance with Julie Ege's overdressed widow never quite gels. The same can be said for Leyland Van Helsing's attraction to Hsi Ching's sister. Neither relationship has time to develop given the film's pace and 89-minute running time.

Additionally, The Legend of the 7 Golden Vampires requires a little suspension of belief. It's never clear why Dracula (not played by Christopher Lee) needs to assume the guise of Kah. The timeline is also out of whack with the rest of the Hammer Dracula series. If Dracula started posing as Kah in 1804 and was still doing so a century later, how could he have encountered Van Helsing in Dracula in 1885?

I suppose one needs to cast those quibbles aside and enjoy The Legend of the 7 Golden Vampires for what it is: a unique, quirky mash-up of vampires and kung fu with a dash of plotting borrowed from The Seven Samurai. Now, who can refuse that?

When Dinosaurs Ruled the Earth

"Akita osur!"

Roughly translated, that means: "Look, there's a dinosaur!" I know this because I got a copy of the promotional Caveman Vocabulary pamphlet distributed by theaters during the original run of Hammer's When Dinosaurs Ruled the Earth. Released in 1970, this prehistoric opus is sometimes described as a sequel to Hammer's earlier One Million Years, B.C. (1966), which helped make a star of Raquel Welch. It's not a sequel, but both movies feature a lovely scantily-clad heroine, no English dialogue, and impressive dinosaurs.

Victoria Vetri as Sanna.

Victoria Vetri stars as the blonde-haired Sanna, who--along with two other fair-haired beauties--is about to sacrificed by her tribe during a sun ritual. During a solar disturbance, Sanna tries to escape but falls into the ocean. She survives the plunge and is rescued by Tara (Robin Hawdon), a fisherman from another tribe. There's an instant attraction between the two comely cave people. The only problem is that Tara's current girlfriend, Ayak, quickly becomes jealous of the blonde newcomer. The result is a catfight worthy of comparison to Krystle and Alexis in the early days of Dynasty.

Still, Sanna barely has time to get settled in her new home when her old tribe shows up. Still preferring not to be sacrificed, Sanna escapes into the rugged inland where dinosaurs dominate the landscape.

The simplistic plot serves as an adequate framework for the prehistoric creatures, which are naturally the highlight of When Dinosaurs Ruled the Earth. Hammer originally wanted to reunite with Ray Harryhausen, who did the special effects for One Million Years, B.C. However, he was still completing the stop-motion animation for The Valley of Gwangi (1969). Thus, Hammer turned to Jim Danforth, who previously exhibited his special effects wizardry in movies like Jack the Giant Killer (1962) and 7 Faces of Dr. Lao (1964). 

The sequence with the Plesiosaur at night.

Danforth’s stop-motion animated dinosaurs are amazing, but Harryhausen’s creatures somehow seem more convincing. That said, a battle between Tara’s tribe and a plesiosaur on the beach is pretty jaw-dropping, expertly matching the movements between the human actors and the animated dinosaur. Danforth and special effects coordinator Roger Dicken earned an Academy Award nomination for their special effects work--something which somehow eluded Harryhausen during his illustrious career (he did receive an honorary Oscar in 1992).

As the principal human star, Victoria Vetri was unable to duplicate Raquel Welch's success from One Million Years, B.C. Using the name Angela Dorian, she had gained minor fame as a Playboy centerfold and went on to become the 1967 Playmate of the Year. When the auburn-haired beauty was cast in When Dinosaurs Ruled the Earth, she refused to dye her hair blonde and instead wore a wig. She later starred in one of Roger Ebert's favorite cult films Invasion of the Bee Girls (1973). However, her film and TV career stalled in the mid-1970s.

A handy sheet for non-cave people.

Victoria Vetri made headlines in 2010 when she shot and wounded her third husband following an argument. She pleaded no contest to attempted voluntary manslaughter and was sentenced to nine years in prison. She was paroled in 2018.

When Dinosaurs Ruled the Earth was released with a G rating in the U.S. An "international version" includes a few seconds of nudity. It made a tidy profit for Hammer Films, but could not match One Million Years, B.C.'s box office. That didn't dissuade Hammer from releasing another prehistoric movie the following year: Creatures the World Forgot (1971). It featured an attractive star (Julie Ege)...but no dinosaurs.

This review is part of the 3rd Hammer-Amicus Blogathon hosted by Cinematic Catharsis and Realweegiemidget Reviews. Click here for the blogathon's full schedule.

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).

Kung Fu and Vampires! It's the Legend of the 7 Golden Vampires!

Peter Cushing as Van Helsing.

I watched The Legend of the 7 Golden Vampires (1974) for the fifth or sixth time recently. During this latest viewing, I studied it carefully. When it was over, I reviewed my notes, analyzed the plot and themes, and researched the production history. And still, my friends, I have no clue as to why this wacky hybrid of vampires and martial arts is so entertaining!

For those who have never seen it, here's a plot summary. In Transylvania in 1804, an evil Asian monk named Kah journeys to the tomb of Count Dracula. His goal is to ask Dracula to help him revive the seven Golden Vampires in his homeland. Now, it should come as no surprise that the Count doesn't grant his wish. Instead of kindly lending a hand, Dracula assumes Kah's appearance and heads to Asia to revive the Golden Vampires for his own bloodsucking purposes.

One of the Golden Vampires.

A century later, we find Professor Van Helsing (apparently a descendant of the original Van Helsing) giving a guest lecture on vampires at Chungking University. His audience is unimpressed--except for a young man named Hsi Ching who visits Van Helsing that night. Hsi Ching explains that his ancestral village has become a feeding ground for the seven Golden Vampires. He wants Van Helsing to help him--along with his six brothers and his sister--to destroy the bloodsuckers.

The professor is intrigued, but lacks the financial resources for the long journey. That's when a wealthy, attractive widow offers to finance the expedition on the condition that she gets to experience a little excitement, too.

The Legend of the 7 Golden Vampires has an 89-minute running time, but it seems even shorter. Veteran director Roy Ward Baker enlivens the plot with four major action sequences, each one longer and better staged than the one preceding it. We are treated to an attack on the town by the vampires, an ambush on Van Helsing's expedition by criminals, and a surprise vampire assault in a cave. Those scenes are just the appetizers that set up the big battle at the climax.

The golden bat medallion--I want one!

As with any respectable 1970s kung fu flick, there are plenty of bone-crunching punches and high-flying kicks. The Golden Vampires do a respectable job of defending themselves...considering they look like decomposing corpses with fangs and move pretty slowly. Their supporting army of the undead are dispatched quickly with a punch to their rotting chests. A flashback story suggests that a Golden Vampire can be destroyed by removing the golden bat medallions from around their necks. Oddly, none of our heroes ever attempt to do that!

David Chiang as Hsi Ching.

There are other muddled plot points, too. Hsi Ching's village appears to be pretty small. So, over the span of a century, wouldn't the Golden Vampires have drained it dry--especially since they routinely nab most of the young women from the village? And why do Van Helsing and the brothers choose to fight the vampires at night? It seems more logical to look for their headquarters during the day and destroy them before dusk. Of course, then we wouldn't have any kung fu fights, would we?

To his credit and the film's benefit, Peter Cushing delivers a serious, persuasive performance as Van Helsing. It grounds The Legend of the 7 Golden Vampires and keeps it from devolving into camp. David Chiang is respectable as Hsi Ching, which is impressive considering he's acting in a second language. I quite like that the rich widow (Julie Ege) becomes attracted to Hsi Ching while Van Helsing's son falls for the latter's sister (Szu Shih).

John Forbes-Robertson.

The Legend of the 7 Golden Vampires was the last of Hammer's nine Dracula movies that began with 1958's Horror of Dracula. It is the only Hammer film to feature an actor other than Christopher Lee as Count Dracula. His replacement, John Forbes-Robertson, only has a couple of scenes at the beginning and end. His voice was dubbed and his make-up makes Dracula look like he's been embalmed.

A co-production between Hammer and the Shaw Brothers, The Legend of the 7 Golden Vampires was shot in Hong Kong. Both studios surely hoped the combination of kung fu  and vampires would generate big international profits. However, that didn't happen and Hammer was unable to even secure a U.S. distributor when it was released. It finally reached American screens, albeit in re-edited form, in 1979. Seventeen minutes were trimmed and the title was changed to The Seven Brothers Meet Dracula. Avoid this version!

Instead, grab your golden bat medallion (if you have one), settle into your easy chair, and throw logic out the window. And remember what a film critic for Melody Maker magazine wrote after skewering 7 Vampires for several paragraphs: "Don't let me indicate that I'm trying to put you off seeing this film, because I'm going to see it again tomorrow!"

A Circus with Acrobats, Animals, and...Vampires!

Anthony Higgins is about to bite!

After a highly-successful decade in the 1960s, Hammer Films faced a crossroads in the early 1970s. Their Gothic horror films were no longer considered scary. In fact, they appeared rather tame compared to other movies playing at your local movie theater. Thus, the studio made a concerted effort to make their horror pictures sexier (well, with more nudity) and more violent. One of its most interesting movies during this period was Vampire Circus (1971).

A long pre-title sequence lays the groundwork for the plot. After a headmaster sees his wife take a young girl into the woods, he follows them to the castle of Count Mitterhaus. When he's prevented from entering the castle, the headmaster gathers a group of villagers who are convinced that Mitterhaus is a vampire. They force their way into the castle and kill the bloodsucking nobleman with a stake. With his last words, the count proclaims that the town will die and the villagers' children will die to give him back his life.

Adrienne Corri runs the circus.

Fifteen years later, the village is rife with plague and neighboring towns have created blockades to prevent anyone from leaving or entering. Yet, somehow a traveling circus gets through the roadblocks (when asked how, the troupe's headmistress says nothing). While the circus provides a pleasant distraction for the townspeople, its activities mask the motives of its bloodsucking performers. Their goal is to kill the children of the men that destroyed Count Mitterhaus.

As Hammer vampire movies go, Vampire Circus is an above-average entry with some intriguing ideas, most of which aren't fully developed. The male vampires are not just irresistible to the village women...they're almost sexually addictive. When a mother initially refuses to let her daughter secretly meet with one of them, the girl breaks down in tears and pleads frantically. Some of the vampires are shapeshifters, including one that can transform into a black leopard. But the most original aspect of Vampire Circus is its combination of vampires (scary) and circuses (creepy...you know they are!). 

Robert Tayman as the Count.

With one exception, the low-wattage cast is solid and features actors associated with Star Wars, A Clockwork Orange, Doctor Who, and TV's Buffy the Vampire Slayer. The one weak link is Robert Tayman as the villainous Mitterhaus (the actor's voice was dubbed by David de Keyser). He projects an effeminate quality that negates his effectiveness. Perhaps, it's the combination of his chest-baring costume, gold choker, hair, and make-up. In any event, he never comes across as sexually powerful nor especially threatening.

As I watched Vampire Circus recently, I was reminded of another movie about a traveling carnival that delivers evil to a small town: the 1983 film version of Ray Bradbury's Something Wicked This Way Comes. It's a flawed movie, too, but, like Vampire Circus, it projects an unusual fairy tale-like quality. 

The Phantoms of the Opera

Claude Rains as the Phantom.

Just eleven years after Lon Chaney thrilled audiences in The Phantom of the Opera (1925), Universal was planning a remake. However, it wasn’t until 1941 that the production got the green light for a Technicolor extravaganza. Studio executives wanted Deanna Durbin as the female star and considered Charles Laughton as the Phantom. In the end, those parts went to 18-year-old Susanna Foster (a virtual unknown) and the inimitable Claude Rains.

The screenwriters jettisoned the plots of both Gaston Leroux’s 1910 novel and Chaney’s classic. The new plot cast Rains as Erique Claudin, a violinist in the Paris Opera’s orchestra. When a health condition with his left hand impairs his playing, he is dismissed from the orchestra after 20 years. He has no savings, for he has used all his money to secretly pay for voice lessons for a promising soprano named Christine (Foster). He hopes to improve his finances through the publication of a concerto.

Susanna Foster as Christine.

However, due to a most unfortunate misunderstanding, he believes the publication house has stolen his work and, in a fit of rage, he murders one of its employees. In the process, another worker flings a pan of acid in his face. Screaming in agony, Claudin runs into the dark streets and finds refuge in the catacombs underneath the opera house. He eventually adopts the persona of the Phantom and dedicates himself to ensuring that Christine becomes the opera house’s newest star.

For a studio known for its thriftiness, Universal went all in on Phantom of the Opera and the visual treats are plentiful. It's no wonder that Phantom won Oscars for its color cinematography and set decoration. The elaborate opera house set used in Chaney's film was refurbished and still looks impressive. The famous chandelier, though, is not the same one from the earlier film (that one was destroyed). This time around, the chandelier was dropped with a wire to prevent it from crashing onto the floor. Then, it was painstakingly disassembled to look like it was smashed.

The Paris Opera House set and chandelier.

Claude Rains insisted that his face not be totally scarred and that the mask only partially cover his feature. The latter decision works well, since it allows Rains to at least act with his mouth when playing the Phantom. (And yes, Rains was good enough an actor to convey emotion with his mouth alone.)

Yet, while Rains gives his usual first-rate performance and Phantom impresses from a technical standpoint, it lacks verve. It's more of a musical than a horror film and the opera set pieces drag down the pace even at 93 minutes. The other problem is that the Phantom is really a nice guy that becomes an outcast through unusual circumstances. The audience sympathizes with Claudin--we're never afraid of him.

Nevertheless, The Phantom of the Opera was a big boxoffice hit and Universal announced a sequel within weeks of its release. It was to reteam Susanna Foster, Claude Rains, and Nelson Eddy. Unfortunately, the stars' schedules couldn't be aligned and so Universal paired Foster with Boris Karloff in The Climax (1944), another horror picture with an opera setting.

Herbert Lom as the Phantom.

In 1962, Hammer Films, having successfully revived Dracula, Dr. Frankenstein, and the Mummy, decided to mount its own version of The Phantom of the Opera. According to producer-writer Anthony Hinds, Cary Grant was briefly interested in starring it (though there are various stories about which role). In lieu of Hammer favorites Christopher Lee or Peter Cushing, the studio settled on Herbert Lom as the title character.

The Hammer version follows the same basic plot as the 1943 film, but with some notable differences. The Phantom's origin is revealed in flashback late in the movie so the story unfolds like a mystery. The Phantom has a silent assistant who does his bidding, which includes murdering an innocent stagehand and a rat catcher. And, best of all, there is also a true villain in the guise of a lecherous, greedy opera impresario played with gusto by Michael Gough.

Michael Gough and Heather Sears.

The Hammer remake also dispenses with the famous scene in which Christine snatches the Phantom's mask. Instead, with the chandelier about to fall and crush Christine, the Phantom rips off his mask and swings on a rope from a balcony to push his protege out of the way.

Speaking of the mask, it completely covers Lom's face, except for one eye. It's a credit to the actor that he's able to create a memorable character essentially with his voice. Indeed, Lom is quite effective and gets strong support from Heather Sears as Christine (her singing voice was dubbed).

Although not as opulent as Universal's 1943 version, this Phantom may be the better of the two movies. At least, it strives to be a horror film and does not let the music take over the proceedings. It was nonetheless a boxoffice disappointment. When it appeared on U.S. television several years later, Universal (not Hammer) shot additional footage so it was long enough to run in a two-hour time slot.

The Vengeance of She

Olinka Berova as Carol/Ayesha.

I've been a Hammer Films aficionado since my youth and I've seen almost all its movies. One which eluded me for decades was The Vengeance of She, the 1968 sequel to She (1965). The latter film shows up on television frequently, probably due to Ursula Andress' appearance in the title role. The lesser-known sequel has become an oddity--but one which I recently found on eBay for $4.00.

Olinka Berova stars as Carol, a young woman who may or may not be the reincarnation of Ayesha, the once-immortal queen of a desert civilization. Carol experiences intense headaches, bad dreams, and memory loss. That may explain why she awakes on a French Riviera beach one morning, strips down to her underwear, and swims out to a millionaire's yacht. She can offer no explanation for her actions, but all the males on the boat are in favor of her remaining a passenger. (Well, the captain does make one of those ominous remarks about her bringing bad luck.)

The yacht's owner dies of a heart attack shortly after rescuing Carol from an inexplicable dive into the ocean. That should have been the cue to cut ties with her. Instead, one of the yacht's passengers, psychiatrist Philip Smith offers to accompany Carol on a desert journey to the lost city of Kuma. After some mishaps along the way, she and Philip reach Kuma, where Carol is hailed as its ruler. Things don't fare as well as for Philip, who is imprisoned by a high priest hoping to gain immortality for himself.

The Vengeance of She is an initially promising follow-up to She. The opening scene of Carol walking down a mountain road in a white fur and high heels is certainly unexpected. Ditto for the song over the credits with lyrics like" "Oh, who is She?" The sudden demise of a lecherous trucker and Carol's uncanny silence add to the intrigue. But once the yacht lands in North Africa, it becomes clear that The Vengeance of She is a role-reversal rehash of the original. This time around, Ayesha is being summoned to Kuma while her immortal lover Killikrates awaits her.

Edward Judd as Philip.

While the cast isn't as strong as the one in She (e.g., no Peter Cushing), it makes the most of the mediocre material. Edward Judd, who was excellent in the earlier sci fi classic The Day the Earth the Caught Fire, makes for a serviceable hero. Derek Godfrey is appropriately despicable as the nasty high priest. And, as Killikrates, handsome John Richardson provides the link back to She. I have always found him to be an exceptionally dull leading man, although he gets one of the film's most memorable lines. Speaking of Ayesha, he notes: "She is mine and I have need of her."

As the replacement for Ms. Andress, Olinka Berova certainly looked the part even if her thespian skills were suspect. The Czechoslovakian beauty's real name was Olga Schoberova (I don't know why Hammer thought Olinka was an improvement over Olga). She spent most of her acting career in European films. Her second husband, from 1972-92, was Warner Bros. executive John Calley, who received the Irving G. Thalberg Memorial Award during the 2009 Oscars ceremony.

Actually, Hammer intended for Ursula Andress to star in the sequel, which was originally titled Ayesha--Daughter of She and then later The Return of She. However, Andress' contract expired before production could begin. Susan Denberg, another blonde beauty who later starred in Frankenstein Created Woman, was also considered for the title role.

The Vengeance of She is nowhere near as bad as some critics claim. It ultimately lacks originality, but one can say that about most sequels. It's certainly watchable, though the poster promises a lot more. It features Ms. Berova in a short, skimpy tunic wielding a whip with the tag line: "Kneel before She. The ultimate female who used her beauty to bring kingdoms to their downfall...and men to their knees."

Here's a clip from our YouTube channel showing Ayesha's big entrance:

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.