TWINS OF EVIL (1971)

The village of Karnstein is dominated physically by Karnstein Castle and in most other ways by the decadent Count Karnstein (Damien Thomas), who regularly engages in orgies and such, and who has now, in his continual search for excitement, decided to hold a human sacrifice to see if he can raise the devil. Karnstein's nemesis is Gustav Weil (Peter Cushing), head of the local witch-hunting group known as the Brotherhood. Weil and his men go hunting down women whom they suspect of witchcraft—all young, attractive, and single—and burn them at the stake. (Karnstein and Weil seem to be cut from similar psychosexual cloth, though Weil does seem convinced that he is doing God's work.) Into this smoldering tinderbox come Weil's lovely twin nieces—the demure Maria and the sultry Frieda—to stay after the death of their parents. Weil is certain that the twins will soon be up to no good, and in fact Frieda does seem to be chomping at the bit to do a little bit of living it up. Meanwhile, Karnstein's sacrifice doesn't conjure up a demon, but blood from the dead woman drips down into the crypt of his dead ancestor Mircalla and she materializes, putting the bite on Karnstein, transforming him into a vampire. When naughty Frieda wanders up to the castle, the stage is set for vampiric antics galore.

This Hammer movie is the third in a loose trilogy inspired by Sheridan Le Fanu's vampire story "Carmilla," the other two being THE VAMPIRE LOVERS and LUST FOR A VAMPIRE. Despite its silly sexploitation title, it's one of the best of the 60s/70s horror films: well-acted with good sets, rich color, sexy vibes, and one the best decapitations I've seen in a horror flick. Despite the title, the twins aren't both evil, just Frieda, and they aren't really the focus of the film. That would be Peter Cushing, who is excellent as the somber witch hunter—based on this performance, I think he might have been better than Vincent Price in the cult classic of a few years earlier, WITCHFINDER GENERAL. In fact, much of this film plays out like a variation on that film. Thomas gives a full-blooded performance as the decadent vampire, and the Collinson twins (Mary as Maria, Madelaine as Frieda), best known as twin Playboy bunnies, are actually quite good in the leads. David Warbeck is fine as the handsome hero, though he doesn't have as much screen time as the average horror hero. Kathleen Byron, best known as the nun who goes insane in BLACK NARCISSUS, is wasted as Cushing's wife, but she delivers a strong performance anyway. Fine direction by John Hough. The previous Carmilla films are good, but if you're only going to see one of the three, make it this one. [DVD]

SON OF DRACULA (1943)

At Dark Oaks, the Caldwell plantation, a party is being given in honor of visiting Hungarian Count Alucard (Lon Chaney Jr.); young Kay Caldwell (Louise Allbritton) met him in Europe and became fascinated with his esoteric philosophies. Her fiancé Frank (Robert Paige) isn't too happy about her obsession, and the rest of the guests are unhappy that Alucard hasn’t shown up yet, though some large coffin-shaped boxes of his do arrive. The aging patriarch leaves the reception to go to bed, but we see a large bat fly in through his window and next thing you know, he's dead with a bite mark on his neck. The mysterious, aloof Alucard eventually shows up, and Brewster, the family doctor (Frank Craven), has already noticed that his name spelled backwards is "Dracula." Kay is now sole heir to the plantation, and she and Alucard marry in secret. When Frank finds out, he is distraught and pulls a gun on Alucard, but the bullet goes right through him and hits Kay, standing behind him. She crumples to the ground, apparently dead, but the next day, she is alive and healthy, though she admits to Frank that she is now a vampire (she also says, about the label of vampire, "Don’t use that word—we don’t like it!"). She also tells Frank that she was just using Alucard to gain eternal life; now, she wants Frank to kill Alucard—by burning his coffin at dawn before he can get to it—then she will put the bite on Frank and they can live undead forever.

It is generally acknowledged that this movie's biggest problem is Lon Chaney Jr.; he is clunky and wooden and has none of the majesty or creepy charisma of Lugosi. I agree in general—Chaney rarely comes off as scary—but he is effective in other ways. His Alucard is something of a brute force of nature rather than a mysteriously charming and deadly being. Ultimately, it doesn’t matter than much because after the opening, Alucard largely becomes a supporting player. This is also one of the first vampire films—as far as I remember—that presents a willing and romantic victim; in DRACULA'S DAUGHTER, the manservant has been holding onto Countess Zelinka's promise to give him vampiric eternal life, but their relationship is not portrayed as one of love or lust—and he never gets the promised bite. It takes a long time for anything much to happen; aside from the death of the father, which we don't actually see, it's a half-hour in before anything resembling action happens. Frank winds up pretty much broken at the end, one of the few times that would happen in the classic movie era to the nominal hero of a horror movie.  The supporting cast is OK; Allbritton isn't quite saucy enough for her role and Robert Paige does his best with a poorly written character, but I like Frank Craven, J. Edward Bromberg and Samuel S. Hinds as the men who perform Van Helsing's "wild work" to get rid of Dracula. And as far as I can tell, it's never established if Alucard actually is the son of Dracula, or Dracula himself, or some sorry-ass pretender. If this is ultimately disappointing, it's worth seeing for its moments of atmosphere and its somewhat unusual ending. (Pictured above: Allbritton, Chaney, Paige) [DVD]

THE PHANTOM SPEAKS (1945)

Businessman Tom Powers pulled himself out of poverty to become rich and powerful, but money doesn't buy happiness, and one night he shoots and kills his wife's lover. He is tried, found guilty and sentenced to die in the electric chair. Stanley Ridges, a doctor who dabbles in the occult and has written a book about making contact with the dead, is convinced that the only reason he has failed in his attempts at communication is that the will of the dead to return is not strong enough to overcome the lure of the afterlife. Ridges visits Powers on the day of his execution and, believing that Powers has a strong will, talks him into trying to make contact. Sure enough, the next day, Ridges shuts himself up in a dark little curtained-off circle, concentrates really hard, and the spirit of Powers appears next to him. However, Ridges has little time to celebrate: Powers is indeed so willful, he possesses Ridges and uses his body to exact murderous revenge against his widow, his lawyer, and others who led to his death. Ridges' daughter (Lynne Roberts) works with reporter Richard Arlen to get the bottom of it all.

I've been a classic-era horror movie buff for over fifty years, but I’d never heard of this movie. I think that’s because it was marketed as a psychological thriller. But make no mistake: this is a story of supernatural horror. It's no overlooked gem, but it's interesting. Though Arlen is top-billed as the hero, the movie belongs to Ridges (who is very good) and Powers (OK but a little too one-note to come off as an especially strong-willed person; he mostly just seems cranky, like he does playing Stanwyck's unlikable husband in DOUBLE INDEMNITY). Between these two, there’s not much left for Arlen to do, and even less for Lynne Roberts. I rather liked Charlotte Wynters as Ridges' loyal assistant Cornelia—she comes off a bit cold, but the possibility seems to exist that she is his mistress. From Republic Studios, directed with some B-movie panache by John English, known for westerns and adventure serials (MYSTERIOUS DOCTOR SATAN, DRUMS OF FU MANCHU) [Paramount Vault on YouTube]

THE TERROR (1938)

A notoriously mythic criminal named O'Shea masterminds the theft of a huge shipment of gold coins; in the middle of the night, he pumps knockout gas onto the back road the truck is on, causing the drivers to pass out while he and his two men, Connor and Marx, all wearing gas masks, make away with the gold. But O'Shea himself calls Scotland Yard and turns the men in; they go to jail and the mysterious O'Shea (whose face we never see) keeps the entire stash. Ten years later, Connor and Marx are released and head off, independently of each other, to the place where they were supposed to split the gold, an old priory used in secret, it was rumored, by a devil-worshipping group called the Black Monks.

Now, it's a home owned by Colonel Redmayne who rents out rooms to boarders. Currently in residence: Mr. Goodman, an old friend of Redmayne's; the slightly dotty Mrs. Elvery, who claims to be psychic, and her more level-headed daughter; Redmayne's daughter Mary, returning to see her father after years away at school; a generally unflappable butler named Hawkins and a couple of maids. Mrs. Elvery is sure there are strange things going on, especially after she is awakened in the night by organ playing and chortling laughter, but Redmayne wants to shut down any wild rumors in the interest of his daughter's comfort. But the arrival of two unexpected guests may be just as disruptive: a man named Ferdy Fane who is constantly drunk, and a vicar—whom we know to be Marx, one of the two recently-freed crooks, in disguise. Soon, more midnight organ playing and mysterious monk sightings unsettle the guests until dead bodies start to pile up. Could one of the residents be O'Shea in disguise trying to keep the secret of his gold?

Based on an Edgar Wallace novel, this is a well-made B-thriller of the "old dark house" variety, filled with interesting characters and good performances. The creepy atmosphere could have been kicked up a notch, but overall it's a fun ride. Bernard Lee, best known as the original "M" in the early James Bond films, is the drunk, who, it is painfully obvious from his first scene, is not really drunk and instead will be Our Hero—and romantic partner to Mary (Linden Travers). Wilfrid Lawson is Goodman, who is full of spooky stories about the old priory, and who also comes on, rather out of the blue, to Mary; Arthur Wontner, best known for a series of B-movies he made as Sherlock Holmes, is the Colonel; Iris Hoey does very nicely as the obnoxious Mrs. Elvrey who keeps proclaiming, "I'm psychic!" at the drop of a hat. The delightful Kathleen Harrison has a small bit as a maid. Best of all is Alastair Sim (pictured at right with Bernard Lee) as the crook Marx—even though he has fairly low billing in the credits, he has a good-sized role and steals a couple of scenes in that way he has. There's a good running gag about a tall, skinny cop who keeps trying to make suggestions to the chief inspector and keeps getting sushed before he can get very far. A scene near the end, of the mad monk at the organ, was clearly inspired by Phantom of the Opera, and other dark house clichés abound. Not easy to find, but fun. [Amazon streaming]

ARREST BULLDOG DRUMMOND (1938)

Someone who calls himself "the Earl of Destiny" has been sending letters to the press and to Scotland Yard commissioner Nielsen, claiming that he has the answer to all the world's problems. Meanwhile, on the day before his long-delayed wedding to his fiancée Phyllis (Heather Angel), Bulldog Drummond (John Howard, at left) gets a strange letter from his scientist friend Richard Gannett saying he can't attend as he's too busy saving mankind from future wars, and after his signature, he signs "Earl of Destiny." We find out that Gannett has created a death and destruction ray (actually, two rays fired up together); he wants to use it for peaceful ends, but Rolf Alverson (George Zucco) and his henchmen kill Gannett and steal the device for nefarious purposes. When Drummond finds the dying Gannett, his last words are "Look out for the stinger!" and oddly, it turns out that Gannett died from stingray venom, despite being nowhere near water. Once again, Drummond postpones his wedding to investigate with his good friend Algy (Reginald Denny), bring the killer to justice, and get the death ray back before it wrecks havoc.

I'm not typically a film buff completist—I don't need to see every movie in a series—but I have enjoyed tracking down the Bulldog Drummond films, most of which are in the public domain and fairly easily available, though often in somewhat tattered prints (I found this one on the Criterion streaming channel through Hulu and it was in very good shape). Even though Drummond was played by Ronald Colman, Ray Milland, John Lodge and Ralph Richardson (among others), I think I like Howard best of all. He may not be a great actor or cut the butchest figure, but he has an easygoing manner, approaching danger as though it's just another aspect of a playboy's lifestyle. Howard is helped by the antics of the reliable Denny, and the presence of other regulars in the series (Angel as Phyllis, H.B. Warner as the commissioner, E.E. Clive as the resourceful butler—who seems to me to be a model for Woodhouse, the much-suffering butler on TV's Archer). Zucco is, as always, a gem as the madman villain. There is a cute running gag involving Drummond's inability to tie his tie. Though I find the constant stalled wedding antics tiresome, they aren't too intrusive here. A strong entry in the series. [Streaming]

THE GHOST AND THE GUEST (1943)

On his wedding day, James Dunn is desperately trying to call his bride (Florence Rice) but her line is perpetually busy, so in a gag scene that sets the movie's tone, he sends a telegram. After the wedding, she tells him that she has cancelled their California honeymoon in order to spend time at a house that her father has bought for them. Dunn and his valet (Sam McDaniel) aren't happy about the change in plans, but they have no choice. When they arrive at the house, they meet the caretaker (Robert Dudley), a retired hangman who still makes little nooses as a hobby, and he tells them that the house belonged to a killer named Honeyboy who was Dudley’s last "client." Several surprises are in store for our newlyweds: 1) Dudley claims that the house was left to him; 2) Honeyboy's body is being shipped to the house that very day; 3) arriving to meet it is a clutch of grieving relatives—but they're actually gangsters looking for Honeyboy's secret stash; 4) unbeknownst to anyone, it’s not Honeyboy in the coffin, it’s the very live Killer Blake who has broken out of prison and plans on finding the stash himself. Let the B-movie shenanigans begin.

This amounts to an old-dark-house comedy done on a low budget, and the print I saw is, in spots, very murky, which is a problem when much of the last half of the movie takes place in dark rooms. But generally, this is fairly fun, and one reason is the joke-filled screenplay by Morey Amsterdam, much better known as comedy writer Buddy on the original Dick Van Dyke Show. The laughs don't all land, but a higher percentage do than in the average Poverty Row indie of the era. James Dunn and Florence Rice don't have strong comic chops, but McDaniel has some fun with his limited role, and he gets some good lines; after dealing with secret passages and dead bodies, he exclaims, "In two hours we could be in New York with millions of people around—and all of them alive!" Mabel Todd is a standout as a ditzy moll. Short (under an hour) and painless. [YouTube]

WAY…WAY OUT (1966)

In the far future of 1994, America and Russia have weather stations on the moon, each manned by one weathernaut and one astronomer. When the Americans (Howard Morris and Dennis Weaver) have what amounts to a nervous breakdown (attributed to sexual frustration) and start assaulting each other, NAWA—the weather version of NASA—decides to send up a married couple to replace the two men. Jerry Lewis, the next weatherman in line for the job, has to get married fast, and from a pool of two eligible female astronomers, he picks the lovely and wholesome Connie Stevens. She's not crazy about the idea but agrees if he'll keep the relationship platonic, which frustrates Lewis no end. On the moon, the two become friendly with the Russians—the sexy Anita Ekberg and her boyfriend Dick Shawn—but a bump develops when Ekberg says that she's pregnant and so a Russian will be the first baby born on the moon. There’s no way that Lewis and Stevens could arrange to beat that, is there?

I'm not really a Jerry Lewis fan, but he's going to be on the Turner Classic Movies cruise I'm going on next month, so I thought I should prepare by trying to catch a couple of his movies. I like THE NUTTY PROFESSOR, but I have never taken to his more slapsticky, "Hey, Ladyyyyyy" performances. In this film, he is subdued—his character is a mild playboy figure, though not as extreme as Buddy Love in PROFESSOR—but the surrounding movie is nothing more than an extended riff on sexual frustration. At the time of release, some of this may have seemed almost daring—for example, the Russians are co-habiting but are not married—but now much of it just seems cutesy-smutty. Lewis is bearable, Stevens is appropriately sweet, and Robert Morley is good as their NAWA boss. The rest of the performances are all over the map. Morris and Weaver have good chemistry as the battling men (their fisticuffs scene is a highlight), though Morris is a bit over-the-top sometimes in his near-drooling horniness. Ekberg fulfills her role (to be hot) well; Shawn, also not one of my favorites, is generally OK. What I really liked about this movie, however, is the production design. It's a perfect colorful 60s view on what the future would look like. Watch for a young James Brolin in the opening scenes. Harmless but mostly recommended to fans of either Lewis or of 60s sex farces. Pictured above are Weaver and Lewis. [FMC]

HOUSE OF DARKNESS (1948)

A composer of film music tells a director the story of where he got his inspiration for his current piece. There's a house in Dorset that the locals call the House of Strange Music; they say that a ghostly melody can be heard that conjures up visions of the past residents, a dysfunctional family named Merryman. Young Francis (Laurence Harvey), a composer and pianist, resents the fact that his older brother John (Alexander Archdale), a violinist, has control of the family estate until his death. Both live in the house along with Francis's wife Elaine; a third brother, the passive Noel who is engaged to Lucy; and the feisty housekeeper Tessa. Francis has been racking up gambling debts and signing John's name to the IOUs, and now John, who is plagued with a weak heart, has had enough and takes steps to disassociate himself from Francis. But Francis is one step ahead and during an angry confrontation, he goads John into a heart attack. John dies and Francis seems to get what he wanted—until strange sounds and visions make the family believe that John's ghost may be haunting the house.

This little-known film is a gem of a Gothic thriller; it has some of the shortcomings of a low-budget B-film—some plot holes, mostly so-so acting—but it also has the young Laurence Harvey (pictured) in his first film role and, though I'm not particularly a fan of his, he is very good here, carrying the movie and standing head and shoulders above the rest of the cast. The other actors are fair to middling—the strongest being John Teed as Noel and Grace Arnold as Tessa—and it might have been fun to see Harvey enact his role with stronger actors opposite him. But as it is, Harvey has a bit of an Anthony Perkins-Psycho vibe, especially early on. He has a tendency to smirk which some critics think is a fault, but I think it's perfectly in tune with his character. At heart, this is a psychological thriller with a ghost story overlay and a nicely ambiguous ending. The frame story, which features George Melachrino playing himself as a film music composer, is an awkward fit with the rest of the story, but it is unusual. Recommended. [TCM]

THE THIRD DAY (1965)

George Peppard climbs up soaking wet to the highway from a wrecked car; he has amnesia so he just keeps walking until he comes to a bar where people seem to know him—and they don't especially like him. Turns out he's a playboy-type (even though he's married to Elizabeth Ashley), son of a rich but dying father (Herbert Marshall). The family is particularly disliked right now because Peppard's brother-in-law (Roddy McDowell) is pushing to sell the family factory, which would throw many townspeople out of work. The pianist at the bar (Arte Johnson) seems to loathe Peppard; we soon find out that Peppard was having an affair with his wife (Sally Kellerman). Even worse, when the police find Peppard's car in the river, they find the dead body of Kellerman and want to charge him with murder. Of course, the amnesiac Peppard is a nicer guy than the playboy Peppard, but can he patch things up with his wife, stop the sale of the factory, and get out of the murder charge?

This is not the most original plotline and it becomes predictable pretty quickly, but the movie is generally entertaining—if you can buy the "amnesia change" aspect of the story, which is a tried and true plot device in literature and movies. The young and handsome Peppard (pushing 40 but looking younger) does a nice job in the lead role, managing to convey a certain personality emptiness without coming off as vacuous. Ashley—his wife in real life at the time—has to work with a character that is not well-rounded and so doesn't make  much of an impression. Better are the nasty, brittle Roddy McDowell (gay subtext, of course) and the nastier Arte Johnson, who banishes all thoughts of his comic character on Laugh-In. A strong supporting cast helps: Mona Washbourne as Peppard's aunt, Robert Webber as a cop, and Arthur O'Connell as a doctor. This was Herbert Marshall's last film—he died a year later—and he plays an uncommunicative stroke victim whom McDowell is trying to get around in order to sell the factory. Funniest (unintentionally) line: a rider showing off says about his horse, "Watch me put the wench through her paces—she’s all woman!" Style-wise, it's shot like a TV movie but the widescreen angles are often filled with nice background detail. [DVD]

PHANTOM OF CHINATOWN (1940)

Archeologist John Benton returns from an expedition to Mongolia where Benton found a scroll in an ancient tomb which may hold the key to the location of the fabled Temple of Eternal Fire. His cameraman Frasier shows some clips of the expedition at a presentation at the local university, but just as Benton is about to discuss his findings, he drops dead at the lectern. The police, led by Captain Street (Grant Withers), find that someone had put a quick-acting poison in his water carafe. Jimmy Lee Wong (Keye Luke), a former student of Benson's, offers Street his help and soon the two are trying to narrow down a list of suspects including Win Len, Benson's somewhat secretive secretary (Lotus Long); Tommy, the expedition pilot (Robert Kellard); Frasier, the cameraman; the owner of a Chinatown restaurant who acts like he has something to hide; and Benton's butler. Added to the mix is Mason, an expedition team member assumed lost and dead in a storm in Mongolia but who may be alive and kicking—and out for revenge.

This is the last of six Mr. Wong B-mysteries from Monogram, and, despite attempts at doing something different, one of the lesser efforts. The primary unusual aspect is that a central Chinese character is actually played by a Chinese actor. I've liked Keye Luke in supporting roles, but here, he doesn't have the charisma or gravitas to anchor the movie. The earlier films all had Boris Karloff in the main role, which points to another interesting thing about this film: it goes back in time to show Wong before he became a card-carrying detective—but this potentially intriguing plot point is never brought forward, so if you were unaware of the earlier Mr. Wong movies, this would just be another Asian detective yarn. Wong fans may enjoy the continued presence of Grant Withers as Capt. Street, but the rest of the supporting cast is unexceptional at best, and in the case of Lotus Long, terrible—she reads virtually all of her lines like it's the first time she's read them. Unsurprisingly, she did not have a stellar career, though she does have small roles in other Mr. Wong movies. I'm sorry that the handsome Robert Kellard (pictured with Luke) had so little to do except look handsome. The plot itself is a little unusual in that it's basically a "Mummy" movie storyline, set in China instead of Egypt, and without a mummy. But the filmmakers don't do much with that novelty, except for the gimmick of having flashbacks to the expedition alternate with the filmed footage that Frasier took. Monogram gets a couple of points for trying, but generally a disappointing end to the series. [DVD]

THE MUMMY (1959)

In Egypt in 1895, archeologist Stephen Banning discovers the long-lost tomb of Princess Ananka. The Egyptian spoilsport Mehemet Bey warns him that there is a curse on desecrators, but he ignores that and, leaving his son John (Peter Cushing) laid up with a broken leg, behind at camp, Stephen enters the tomb. He discovers something called the Scroll of Life, reads it out loud, screams, is found a gibbering mess, and spends the next several years in an asylum. Eventually, he comes out of his state long enough to tell his son what happened: the reading of the scroll awoke the mummy Kharis (Christopher Lee), protector of Ananka, and guided by Mehemet Bey, Kharis will be tracking down the desecrators. Sure enough, that's what happens.

This is a Hammer reboot of the Universal series. It’s largely based on the later 1940s B-movie series of Mummy movies (in which the name Kharis is first used) rather than the 1932 classic with Boris Karloff, and it's one of Hammer’s weaker efforts, though not for lack of trying on the part of Lee and Cushing who, like Vincent Price, almost always tried their best even when the material was far below them. The opening sequence, featuring the archeologist going mad, is based directly on the opening of the 1932 film, and though the tomb set is fairly well done, the scene itself misses the mark by quite a bit—it's just not scary. The idea that a living woman (played blandly by Yvonne Furneaux) reminds Kharis of his princess and the Egyptian character who aids Kharis are both borrowed from the Universal mythology to only occasionally effective use. A specific link to the Karloff film is an nicely done flashback scene showing how Kharis became the creature he is. The one plus this has over the earlier series is that the mummy moves quickly and attacks brutally, and Lee, his piercing eyes vivid under the mummy makeup, makes the most of his scenes. This is worth one viewing, but I doubt it would stand up very well to repeat visits. [DVD]

THE PEOPLE (1972)

Young Melodye (Kim Darby) leaves city life behind to start over in the country; she is hired by the people of the small California farming village of Bendo to be their schoolteacher. The inhabitants are not exactly unfriendly but they are standoffish and seem a bit old-fashioned, having largely cut themselves off from popular culture, and she is surprised when she is given carte blanche to teach in the one-room schoolhouse however she sees fit. But the children are a joyless bunch who don't know how to sing and shuffle when they walk. One young man, Francher (Chris Valentine), shows some promise, but Melodye is freaked out when it seems that he can read her mind. When he shows her his ability to levitate, she realizes she's embedded with a strange group of people indeed, but are they well-meaning or sinister?

This TV-movie is based on the concept created by Zenna Henderson, specifically the frame story to her first short story collection, Pilgrimage: The Book of the People. I read that collection when I was a teenager, and I found the overall idea of the People to be more interesting than most of the short stories themselves, which all tended to have the same themes of conformity and prejudice. I won't spoil your discovery of who the People are, but suffice to say that this movie was intended as a pilot for a TV series that wasn't picked up. Considering its limitations as a TV-movie, it comes off quite well. A big chunk of the acting is done by kids, most of whom did not go on to long acting careers, though all of them, especially Valentine, are fine. William Shatner (pictured above) has a surprisingly low-key role as the village doctor, and Diane Varsi and Dan O’Herlihy play the primary adult roles. The whole thing has a Ray Bradbury feel to it, just as the original book seemed inspired structurally by The Martian Chronicles. This is not on DVD; the print I watched on YouTube was unnaturally stretched out from the original full-screen TV format to an inappropriate widescreen format. I was able to adjust for this on my television, but if you can't do that, beware. [YouTube]