The Gorgon

The spirit of one of the three Gorgon sisters from Greek mythology is terrorizing a German village in the early 1900s. A doctor (Peter Cushing) seems to be in denial about the supernatural element of the mounting deaths in the last seven years, but a professor from out of town has no qualms about finding the truth (Christopher Lee). Barbara Shelley plays the doctor's assistant while Richard Pasco is on hand as a subordinate to the professor.

"The Gorgon" (1965) is cut from the same gothic horror cloth as other Hammer flicks of the era, like "Dracula, Prince of Darkness" (1966), "Frankenstein Created Woman" (1967) and "Frankenstein Must be Destroyed" (1969), as well as similar non-Hammer movies, like Corman & Coppola's "The Terror" (1963) and "The Creeping Flesh" (1973). If you like these kinds of films, you'll appreciate "The Gorgon," although it's the least of these IMHO, albeit not far off.

The pace is slow as suspense mounts with various revelations. The romantic element lends human interest and it's nice to see Cushing and Lee sorta trade typical roles. As usual with Hammer and similar flicks from the era, the colorful spooky ambiance is a top attraction. And noble redhead Barbara Shelley doesn't hurt.

The movie runs 1 hour, 23 minutes, and was shot at Bray Studios in England.

GRADE: B

Hammer’s THE REPTILE (1966) is a semi-remake of this one, and an improvement – for which the scriptwriter of THE GORGON, John Gilling, was upgraded to director. Typically, the DivX edition I watched was plagued by artifacts and a few jump-cuts (not to mention being in the odious pan-and-scan format); however, I was very glad to have finally caught up with it – especially in view of the DD Home Video company’s recent folding (this had been mentioned as one of a possible number of Columbia/Hammer DVD releases).

Peter Cushing is rather unsympathetic and pitiful here (but still commanding as ever); Christopher Lee (playing much older than his years and who only really comes onto the scene during the last half-hour) is his usual pompous self; Richard Pasco, then, makes for an unusual hero. As for the identity of the titular creature, Megera, this isn’t much of a mystery – since Barbara Shelley is virtually the only female in sight (and, conveniently, suffers from amnesia spells during the cycle of the full moon); Hammer does seem to have had their myths mixed up here, and isn’t Cushing rather negligent in having failed to prove his theory for five whole years?! Other notable cast members include police chief Patrick Troughton, Michael Goodliffe (as Pasco’s father, who along with his other son, falls victim to The Gorgon) and Jack Watson as Cushing’s over-eager aide.

In most aspects, this is a typical Hammer product from their 1955-68 heyday: rich-looking (production design courtesy of Bernard Robinson) but essentially undernourished – the monster ‘attacks’ being centered around one family unit, while the much-feared castle seems to be situated in the immediate vicinity of the local inn! Still, most of the Hammer stalwarts (above all director Fisher and composer James Bernard) are in good form – however, the two stars only interact in one brief scene and Roy Ashton’s make-up isn’t exactly great (which Fisher, astutely, generally films from a distance and, in fact, we only get to see her full figure at the very end).

Needless to say, I’d love to see this receive an official DVD release – along with my two most-desired Columbia/Hammer properties, namely TASTE OF FEAR (1961) and THE DAMNED (1963).

One of the mythological gorgons(Megeara) is haunting a small village, and everyone in the village literally turns their faces away from the sporadic murders that occur when the moon is full. All this is discovered when a father of a dead man tries to protect his son's reputation, and is greeted with silence and hatred from the villagers. In his quest to find the truth...he does...the stone-cold truth. This is a fine Hammer film, not overly scary, but incredibly atmospheric with its swirling mists, huge cavernous palatial sets, and wonderful direction and casting. Terence Fisher does a first-rate job showing us the conspiracy going on in this village. Peter Cushing is the town's primary culprit of hiding the truth and gives his customary good performance. The film, however, belongs to Lee, who play an eccentric, gruff scholar helping the other son of the newly killed father. Lee is absurd yet brilliant in his caricature. A fine addition to the Hammer cycle.

Those who tiresomely belabor the inadequacy of the snakes on the Gorgon's head at the film's conclusion entirely miss the point. It is not surprising in our cretinous era that some would lament the unavailability of computer generated special effects in 1964. That they persist in doing so, however, only serves to illustrate how very far these modernists are in both sensibility and aesthetic principles from the 19th century Gothic tradition that this film so faithfully seeks to reproduce. The point isn't the snakes but the psychological force behind the baleful facial expression!

In this connection, it is appropriate to observe that Terence Fisher was absolutely right in considering this one of his best films.

And make no mistake: this film is very much in the 19th century Gothic tradition in both story and atmosphere. In that sense, it may be compared to a story by Ludwig Tieck, while its visuals hearken back to the paintings of Jacob van Ruisdael.

Visually, it is among Hammer's most accomplished productions. Michael Reed's effective photographic renderings include: a nocturnal cemetery festooned with fluttering autumnal leaves, the viscerally chilly, fog and frost bitten ravine (you can almost watch your own breath smoke in merely watching it) where a hanged man is discovered, the vast shadowed Castle Borski depicted under a full moon with scudding clouds, to name but a few.

And Mr. Reed is ably abetted by production designer Bernard Robinson whose key piece in this film: the deserted inside of the self-same Castle Borski is a marvel of tattered armorial flags, dust laden furniture, and sinister mirrors. The musical score is also one of Hammer's best and most effectively understated.

But the film belongs to the incomparably lovely Barbara Shelley's "Carla Hoffman"--she of the sweeping pelisse seated on a gilded throne in the deserted castle. It is to be hoped that someday this accomplished beauty will receive all the retrospective attention surely due her. For now, suffice it to say, that few actresses in the history of cinema have constructed a portrayal so wholly and precariously based on an enigma, an enigma Miss Shelley consistently reveals in every gesture, expression and nuance, without allowing her character, "Carla" the possibility of even understanding it herself.

It isn't merely that her Carla is fatally charming and alluring, but decent and humanitarian as well, a victim, to be sure, but not at all in the degraded, naturalistic way that Jean Seberg's portrayal is in "Lilith" a film to which "The Gorgon" is frequently compared.

Much can always be found to admire in anything Miss Shelley does. For now let us just close with a passing note on her deportment, the absolute self control she exercises in her throaty, perfectly modulated voice and carriage. Would that actresses today would study her technique !!!!!!!!!!!

Watch her in her first confrontation scene with Peter Cushing in his parlor, where she accuses him of stonewalling during the inquest, just prior to the entrance of Paul's father--Professor Heinz. Merely observing her majestically exit the room after being introduced to the Professor is worth the whole price of admission!

The Gorgon ranks among Hammer's very best. Its premise is daring and imaginative - a female spectre so hideous that all who gaze on her are turned to stone, a power even more unnerving than the physical ferocity of lycanthropy or vampirism.

It boasts a wealth of Hammer expertise: Peter Cushing and Christopher Lee are at their peak; John Gilling scripted lucidly; James Bernard's score is one of his finest, the familiar overwrought strings underlaid with a spectral organ effect; and Michael Reed's pathecolor photography defines the Hammer ‘look', all sombre interiors and gorgeous autumnal forests. But the triumph is finally director Terence Fisher's.

The film begins beautifully with the credits superimposed against the twilit battlements of Castle Borski. Other touches fleetingly capture the mood of gothic-romantic literature. Professor Heitz beguiled into the forest by the Gorgon Magaera's distant siren-call. Her reflection glimpsed through the dead leaves floating on a mill pond. The encounter by moonlight in the graveyard between Richard Pasco and Barbara Shelley.

The Gorgon is certainly one of Hammer's most pessimistic entries. The setting is turn-of-the-century Middle Europe and the production-design more Teutonic than ever (Hammer, ever economical, transposed the monster of Greek classical myth to their familiar Germanic milieu). When we join the story the village of Vandorf has been under Magaera's baleful spell for seven years. Much of the action takes place in a repressive asylum. And Castle Borski is not the richly appointed seat of other Hammer films but a broken windswept ruin.

Characterisation is equally unrelenting. Cushing's Dr Namaroff is a more ruthless and maniacal variation of Van Helsing. Lee's Professor Meister , though gruffly benevolent, is overbearingly fatalistic. Meanwhile the most sympathetic characters - Carla, Paul, his father and brother - are all killed.

OK, inevitably the Gorgon's makeup is weak (though it scared me when I first saw it at age 11). The sickly green palor and spidery wrinkles are good, but the snake-hair just looks like she washed it the night before and couldn't do a thing with it. Half-glimpsed, her first appearance is remarkably effective, though. Her graceful tiptoe from behind the cobwebs in ghastly counterpoint to what we know will be her terrible visage. A sudden shock close-up and she disappears - almost glides - back into the shadows in long shot, a sequence as well done as anything Fisher has ever constructed. Alas, audience expectation (something Hammer usually deferred to) demanded a full-facial exposure at the end.

The temptation would be to say that The Gorgon might have worked better in black and white - but that would be to deny Michael Reed's disciplined use of colour. Perhaps only today's enhanced computer-graphics could properly pull off the effect required.

That flaw apart, The Gorgon survives as an early Hammer classic that can stand alongside Dracula, Brides of Dracula and The Hound of the Baskervilles.