The Cabinet of Caligari

Jane Lindstrom is on vacation when her car gets a flat tire and she walks a long way before ending up at the house of Caligari who welcomes her in. After a strange night in the house, Jane feels uneasy around Caligari, as well as other people living in the house, so she asks to leave but she finds out that no one can help her to leave and she is unable to escape by herself. She finds a friend in Mark, a young man, as well as Paul, an intellectual man with a medical background. As Jane tries to break Caligari, she finds out that her attempts to free herself from the house and the spell of Caligari is becoming hopeless. This is not a remake of the 1919 classic, but does have the expressionistic elements of the original, as well as have its own feel with Jane's descent into madness. Johns gives one of her best and more complex performances and O'Herlihy is very spooky as the title character. Fried's musical score is used brilliantly in the film and is probably the best aspect of the movie. Bloch's script does have nice twists at the end, but is seems to go nowhere for the first hour of the film. Rating, 6.

Something just that little bit different here and something really rather good. The slightly odd or seeming unlikely happenings, including the casting of Glynis Johns all make sense by the end, at least as far as I am concerned. Great sets help create a 'modern' but nevertheless creepy feel and Gerald Fried's score is most effective. A very simple idea is admirably sustained and every now and then when we feel things cannot go on like this for much longer we are jolted, either by the outrageousness of Caligari or by the sudden appearance of another guest. I had never even heard of this film before the appearance of the DVD and wonder if indeed it ever opened in the UK. The sexual references and physical violence certainly surprised me for a film of the early 60's. Well worth seeing.

What was Robert Bloch thinking when he wrote this? As weird as the character's interactions are (no understandable motivations), the dialogue is full of dramatic clichés out of any context, like clips from a soap opera. Not a very thrilling blend for a horror movie. The original 1920 movie involved mesmerism and somnambulism: this film does both - it will hypnotise you into sleep immediately, even in the light of day. However, if you can stay awake, the story does have some dramatic impact, and the acting is fine throughout. The twist ending was done one better in a very similar 1950's EC comics (ie Tales from the Crypt) where the woman is cured but starts to have a relapse that cycles her back to the beginning of the story (a la "Dead of night").

As was the case with many baby boomers, my first encounter with South African-born Glynis Johns, the daughter of renowned Welsh character actor Mervyn Johns, was via her short-lived American TV show, "Glynis." On this 1/2-hour sitcom, which only ran from September-December 1963 on CBS, Glynis played a character named Glynis Granville, a mystery writer who helped her husband solve crimes, and who was absolutely--to my young mind--delightful. A recent viewing of one of Glynis' later films, 1973's "Vault of Horror," served to remind me of just how charming she has always been, with her pretty blonde looks and inimitable husky voice. So it was with great eagerness that I even more recently popped one of her films that I'd never seen, "The Cabinet of Caligari," into the DVD player at home. Released in May 1962, five months before Glynis' 39th birthday, this "remake" of the classic German silent "The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari" (1919) jettisons most of the original's story line, salvaging only that famous twist ending. Scripted by Robert "Psycho" Bloch, the film introduces us to 27-year-old Jane Lindstrom (our Glynis), who seeks help at the ultramodern house of Dr. Caligari (Dan O'Herlihy) after her automobile suffers a blowout. The doctor is more than accommodating, but after she is unwittingly drugged, poor Jane realizes that she--and a good half dozen other residents under the doctor's roof--is a prisoner in this bizarre household, while Caligari's demands for highly personal information, as well as his peeping Tom proclivities, abuse of other "guests" and proffering of pornographic pictures, only add to Jane's distress....

Though lacking the surreal sets that made the original film an enduring and endearing classic of German Expressionism, the 1962 "Caligari" is still a fairly strange experience. Director Roger Kay utilizes interesting camera angles, freeze frames and occasionally non sequitur dialogue to engender an atmosphere of the macabre. Kay makes excellent use of space in his CinemaScope frame, and yes, DOES throw in some decidedly Expressionistic FX toward the film's conclusion. (I should perhaps add here that those viewers who choose to watch this DVD utilizing the "full-screen" option, rather than the "wide-screen," will be lacking almost 50% of the image, and will certainly be missing most of the picture's impact.) The director is ably abetted by the excellent camera work of John L. Russell, who had lensed "Psycho" for Hitchcock two years earlier (Jane Lindstrom, it might be added, has a bathtub experience in the film that is not QUITE as harrowing as Marion Crane's!), as well as by the lovely and memorable score provided here by Gerald Fried. But surely, this picture belongs to Glynis Johns, who perforce appears in every single scene in it. She is simply superb here, running the gamut from sweet to scared, haggard to Marilyn Monroe-type sexpot, suicidal and submissive to zesty and domineering; practically an Oscar-worthy performance! (And while I'm on the subject, hey, Academy: Glynis is 88 as of this writing. Howzabout an honorary Oscar for this wonderfully unique performer while she's still with us?) Perfectly cast here, she brings a combination of steely outrage and befuddled defenselessness to her role that is quite wonderful to behold, and makes the film--essentially a 100-minute-long red herring--a genuine must-see, and one that can stand independently of its famous forebear....

Glynis Johns is a "tourist" feeling the call of the highway when she gets a flat tire near a stately manor about two miles off the main road. It's the old my-car-broke-down-and-I-need-to-use-your-telephone routine! It takes her about 20mns to realize she's a prisoner in a party dress. Loose remake of the 1920 German silent "The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari" was a troubled production: Robert Bloch is credited with writing the script, though he complained director Roger Kay sabotaged his screenplay and attempted to wrest the credit for himself; Kay, whose bad temper caused Johns to walk off the film at one point, later disowned the picture, blaming Twentieth Century Fox for tampering with his final cut. The black-and-white cinematography by John Russell is crisp, and Johns, as always, is a lovely presence, but one can clearly see this is Grand Guignol minus the Grand. **1/2 from ****