To Look Ordinary, Not Beautiful, Just Ordinary: Frankenstein Created Woman (1967)

My consumption of Hammer films has always been of considerable lack, particularly since I have decided to take upon yet another prospective project involving solely an analysis of the films within this unique franchise.  Upon inquiring from a friend as to some viewing recommendations from the storied company's catalog, I was amazed to find that there are quite a few films, indeed, even various eras of Hammer studio output.  Needless to say, I now have a considerable stack of Hammer films to undertake, having only seen Horror of Dracula, The Legend of the Seven Golden Vampires and the more recent, and considerably underwhelming The Woman in Black (My review at the time was far more positive).  A suggestion to begin my journey with Frankenstein Created Woman proved quite fruitful, particularly since it is a decidedly watchable work by Terence Fisher, one that manages to pull in the wonderful gothic horror elements I have come to appreciate from the few Hammer films I have seen, while also incorporating a storyline that stretches a considerable temporal length without exhausting itself or seeming a bit too haphazard.  In fact, between some of the wonderful scowling put on by Hammer veteran Peter Cushing and an overall sense of fun being exuded by all involved, Frankenstein Created Woman gives the sense of being a fully fleshed out genre film that manages to take itself lightly, thus making some of the more subtle social commentaries that emerge seem that much more realized, even decidedly intentional. I would even go so far as to suggest that Frankenstein Created Woman works primarily because it does have such a focused critique on issues of gender and class and how projections of privilege from either group can, ultimately, hinder and even harm the individuals whose bodies are othered and subsequently silenced, never mind a consideration of all the ways in which gender and identity are subverted and undermined throughout the films, pointing to the distinct yet seemingly inextricable entities of the body and the soul.  Packed into an hour and a half movie, Frankenstein Created Woman is precisely what I want from a genre piece and while I have high hopes, I know that not all of the Hammer films I will encounter later are likely to carry his same sense of brilliance and wonder.

Frankenstein Created Woman begins in a pre-title sequence, wherein an unnamed man is depicted being brought to the guillotine for an unexplained crime, only to have a small child looking on during the entire ordeal, it is revealed in the closing moments of this sequence that the boy is apparently the son of the man.  This then begins the film proper, showing Hans Werner (Robert Morris) a goofy, albeit likable guy who works for the more creepy and generally less genial Victor Frankenstein (Peter Cushing) whose stoic demeanor seems only concerned with pushing beyond the limits of science into a new degree of living, particularly so considering his fascination with the moments after death where the soul has yet to leave the body.  Aside from his work with Frankenstein, Hans also possesses romantic ties to the local barmaid Christina (Susan Denberg) who for all intents and purposes is an attractive girl, save for scarring on the left side of her face, a point of ridicule for her via a group of aristocratic youth who take much joy is throwing their money around and mocking all those worse of than they are, particularly the scarred Christina, as well as Hans for his romantic relationship with the woman they deem monstrous.  When the three reprobates return to the bar later that night to wreak more havoc, the bar owner beats the young men to death, an act that is immediately blamed on Hans who is assumed to share a genetic line with his murderous father, thus proving enough for a conviction.  Falling victim to the guillotine himself, Christina becomes distraught and throws herself into a river dying.  Realizing the moment of science possible in this, Frankenstein is able to transfer the soul of Hans into the body of Christina who returns to the living world blond and void of any of her scarring.  However, she now possesses the vengeful soul of Hans, thus using her new level of sexuality to pick off the three members of the gang, all the while Frankenstein flails to reign in his destructive creation, only to meet her at the cliff  of a river, wherein she jumps to her demise a second time, however, now as a more sacrificial act, acknowledging her body as a surrogate for Hans and his vindictive soul.

There is a ton of stuff at play in this film, much to my surprise, although I cannot be entirely thrown off by this occurring, since I had an equal if not greater reaction to The Legend of the Seven Golden Vampires.  However, I was of the assumption that much of the brilliance in that film was directly a result of The Shaw Brothers' involvement, yet it appears equally that of Hammer, if not entirely so.  I say all this because Frankenstein Created Woman manages to be a film that is deeply concerned with the process of othering and the oppression which occurs in such acts.  Take, for example, Hans who is impoverished and the son of a murdered criminal.  Society, it would appear, has all but written him off as a productive individual, leading to his being able to only find work within the space of Frankenstein's lab, a place that has been othered primarily because of a figure whose quest for scientific truth runs counter to the assumption that all power or privilege is either pre-ordained through God or can be accrued through wealth.  Indeed, when one needs to find a victim the blame falls directly on Hans and his lower class body, one could only imaging what Angela Davis might think of this particular moment in the film.  Even greater is the oppression on the body of Christina who is also lower class and that of a woman, becoming a thing of assumed exploitation for the aristocratic men, something they believe they can use freely without concern.  When the factor of her scarring is added, one could make the case for her being disabled, in so much as her scarring makes her somewhat immobile through a society that predicates women's bodies as things to be looked at and deemed attractive, something that is not entirely possible when one is maimed.  When the body of Christina is then melded with Hans' soul something intriguing happens, wherein the newly risen Christina becomes hyper-mobile in the space of the narrative, perhaps a statement on the layers of class and gender performance occurring before become futile upon death, more so a consideration though of their fluidity and how easily they can be leapt over once a person decides that following the foolish rules is not only a waste of time, but perhaps severely limiting.

Key Scene:  The matter-of-fact ending to this film made me chuckle a bit, although it was quite well-executed.

This is available in a box set with The Legend of the Seven Golden Vampires and Dracula: Prince of Darkness.  This is your best bet for viewing the film, as it is cheaper to get these three together than it is to get any of them on their own.

Must You Hide Behind The Image Of Another Man: Legend Of The Seven Golden Vampires (1974)

There are no shortage of genre hybrid films in the history of cinema, and given a push towards the digital/indie market in a more contemporary setting these, along with anthology films seem to be taking the market by surprise.  Many of these films are decidedly revisionist and while highly enjoyable also possess a degree of detached irony or situate themselves as a critique of one genre through the inclusion of the other.  I have no problem with this, but it takes a considerable amount of the cinematic zeal out of it when one becomes aware of the layers of commentary going on within the directors offering.  I, as such, assumed that genre hybrid films were always to be a thing I would pursue if in a particular mood or hoping for something completely off-the-wall, returning to Singing Cowboy films being a constant.  Yet, when creating my list for the kung fu marathon, I was recommended by a stalwart cinephile and purveyor of all things excellent to check out, amongst other things Legend of the Seven Golden Vampires.  Admittedly the name alone was enough to pique my interest, although I also assumed that it would be a film entirely entrenched within some of the more badly executed Chinese films of the seventies, ones that implode within their own excessiveness.  However, when I began watching the film and was given "A Hammer/Shaw Brothers Production" to read, I went crazy.  When one considers the genre of horror films, Hammer is the grandfather of all things gloriously macabre, whereas, an argument that the Golden Age of kung fu cinema began and ended with the work released by the producing brothers.  At first, it appears as though Legend of the Seven Golden Vampires will be nothing more than a cleverly edited film that is two distinctly different stories using the Hammer and Shaw names as a marketing ploy, but this fear is quickly squashed when the icons and bodies famous to the Gothic horror begin to interact with those of the Shaw Brother world, breaking visual boundaries through the space of genre, while also doing a surprising amount to ease racial and language based tensions during a time when foreign cinema, particularly that of the art house style, where reading subtitles was one of many concerns.  This intersection of crossover foreignness, even if decidedly Westernized represents a moment in cinema that is near impossible.  The fact that Legend of the Seven Golden Vampires  even exists is a feat all its own, the realization that it is also a great movie is simply a wonderful added benefit.

Legend of the Seven Golden Vampires, begins with a flashback to Transylvania in the early 19th century, as a shaman from China seeks out the castle where the infamous Dracula (John Forbes-Robertson) resides.  Finding him asleep in a mausoleum, the shaman is quickly horrified to discover not only that Dracula desires to come back to live, but that he also intends to use his body as a vessel, thus changing his appearance bend then affording himself the opportunity to find new bodies to feed off of in China.  After this prologue, viewers are introduced to Lawrence Van Helsing (Peter Cushing) who has taken up residence as a professor at a Chinese university, claiming that Dracula's influences have stretched to the Far East and have led to a set of vampires ruining the Chinese countryside.  Many of the students flippantly dismiss Van Helsing with the exception of Hsi Ching (David Chiang) who claims not only to have proof that the Seven Golden Vampires Van Helsing discusses exist, but that he and his brothers have been sworn to protect their villagers from the constant attacks of the undead monsters.  Requiring proof of this, Van Helsing travels with Hsi, and brings along his son  Lelyand Van Helsing (Robin Stewart) and a wealthy baroness named Vanessa Buren (Julie Edge) to finance the  trip.  The group eventually meet up with Hsi's siblings which include a variety of martial arts experts, including his sister Mai Kwei (Shih Szu) with whom Lelyand takes to liking.  While Van Helsing is driven by ambition to complete his mission, he is also aware of the dangers befalling anybody hoping to fight one, let alone, seven vampires.  The skills of Hsi and his siblings, nonetheless, proves high and they take out the vampires one by one, watching them melt away after being destroyed, Lelyand even throws his fists about in a pub fighting inspired version of martial arts, although he seems constantly concerned with his ability to protect his new love interest Mai.  Ultimately though, the villain still remains to be Dracula and as such it is Van Helsing who must confront him, demanding that he return to his original body before fighting him, eventually stabbing him with a spike and causing the count to decay in front of his eyes.  Exhausted, both physically and mentally, Van Helsing sighs, hopefully, having forever rid the world of Dracula's evil presence.

So what makes this work as a hybrid?  It is tricky to decide whether or not it is the nations varied influences that make this film work, or what they pull from the respective genres, but it seems simplest to suggest that it is a combination of both.  For example, the film clearly lifts its ambiance and costuming from the world of Hammer, the makeup of all involved carries that faded pastel look that made Hammer iconic, whether it be the sickly green of Dracula's face or the bright, yet florid blood that covers anybody dying or injured.  Furthermore, even when in pagodas the sense of the setting possesses the decadence, indicative of a Hammer film, right down to the seemingly inescapable amount of cobwebs covering the walls.  This is one element, the film seems more invested in the Shaw Brothers martial arts stylings when considering the editing and production of the film.  For example, there are a heavy amount of zoom-in and pan outs throughout the film, one notable one involving a beheaded frog, that capture the frenetic nature of the action of kung fu cinema, which are far less present in the slow-pacing moodiness of a Hammer film.  The two put together become nearly transcendental, playing off of one another much like a great improvisational jazz set.  Culturally the films seem to be a exercise in well-thought out symbiosis.  Take the dialogue interactions throughout the narrative.  Scenes between the British characters have the rat-a-tat-tat of choppy, loquacious British demeanor, while scenes involving the Chinese character, take on the drawn out waxing poetics of honor, family and identity that are very present within the genre.  At times, the two come together and you can witness the Chinese character playing with language in ways that would be more indicative of a Hammer film, whereas, Van Helsing at times will draw out his speech and ideas to represent the narrative leanings of a quest to become a master, in his case of killing Dracula.  These are only a few examples, issues of religion and fraternal bonds also emerge, wherein the two cultures ideas are initially separated, only to converge in the most thrilling of ways.

Key Scene:  When the fight starts involving vampire deaths, the movie's hybridity takes on a new level.  Never has a drawn out melting vampire shot felt so frantic.

The DVD is a bit pricy, but trust me this is more than worth the investment.

Don’t Go Chasing Shadows: The Woman In Black (2012)

A time long ago in cinema history known as the 1970’s witnessed a particularly offering of horror films from the illustrious company known as Hammer Films.  This company become popular quite quickly given their keen understanding of Gothic horror and a substantial use of corn syrup blood.  Tragically, as technology advanced it appeared as though the magnificent company lacked the relevance to continue successfully franchising their films when competing with films with larger production scales.  However, the recent release of the surprisingly enjoyable The Woman In Black proved a success for the newly revived company and offers the promise of a good future for Gothic horror.  Perhaps it is just the right mix of Daniel Radcliffe, jumpy scares and rotting children’s toys that makes the film so damn creepy, but while watching the film I could not help but find myself reminded of the eerie nature of The Wicker Man, as well as the dreary desperation of contemporary Asian films.  It is not necessarily a new offering to the genre of horror, but it is certainly refreshing to see the genre done right, because it is becoming more difficult to find consistently good horror offerings in the past few years.  Essentially, The Woman In Black is your textbook horror film and as such it is a welcome viewing experience that respects its absurdity without losing any of its suspenseful elements.

The Woman in Black focuses on Arthur (Daniel Radcliffe) a wraithlike young man who is coping with the untimely death of his wife after the birth of their son.  He is scraping by attempting to provide care for his child while also making a name for himself as an up and coming lawyer.  Despite his best efforts, he is threatened with his job unless he agrees to take on some clerical work in a desolate village that is a lengthy travel by train.  Upon arrival to the town, Arthur is dismissed given his foreign nature and clear attachment to technologies and his clearly urban leanings, attempting to find help from the various townsfolk with no success, Arthur is eventually befriended by Daily (Ciarin Hinds)  the only man in the village who owns a car.  Oblivious to the eerie nature of the town, Arthur demands a ride to the manor of Eel Marsh, which belonged to the late Alice Drabow.  It is once he ventures into this house that he realizes the village is not quite as simple as it initially let on.  After viewing a mysterious woman walking through the cemetery outside the manner, Arthur begins to ask questions about what actually happened at Eel Marsh.  Despite the attempts by the villagers, including Daily, to extract himself from the situation, Arthur continues to dig and discovers that Drabow actually lost her own child after it was removed from her custody given her instable mental state.  If this were not bad enough, Drabow was forced to watch her child die in the lake in front of her unable to provide assistance as she was locked away in a cellar.  As a result, Drabow’s ghost takes vengeance on the village causing the town’s children to kill themselves inexplicably.  Arthur, both adamant about keeping his job and realizing his otherness allows him access to hidden parts of the village, takes it upon himself to fix the situation.  With the help of Daily he discovers the location of Drabow’s dead child and returns it to her room, hoping that by reuniting the two the curse will forever end.  However, as Arthur awaits the arrival of his son to the village, the film cuts to the now empty house as the voice of Drabow yells her refusal to provide forgiveness, this is followed by Arthur’s son walking onto the tracks of an oncoming train, only to cause Arthur to dive to his rescue.  The film then cuts to the two walking in a darker version of the train station to discover Arthur’s dead wife, the scene implies that the family is reunited with the death of Arthur and his son and the three walk off into the darkness of the tunnel ahead.  In the closing image, the camera pans to a statue of Drabow in the corner as the head moves to make direct eye contact with viewers, suggesting that her curse is transferred off the screen and into reality.

While horror films are often relegated to a lesser film genre given their usually schlocky nature, it is important to note that they, perhaps more than any other genre, allow for possibilities of alternative narratives and previously unseen characters.  Take the original Night of the Living Dead for example.  In this work, the main character is a black male, which prior to this film was something considerably unusual, particularly in such a popular film.  This happens to some extent in The Woman in Black, as Arthur is certainly not your traditional hero.  He is a young widowed dad who is not entirely masculine and is undoubtedly not mentally stable.  Arthur clearly suffers from some level of crippling depression, which affects his behaviors and allows him to become in touch with the spiritual world.  In another setting, the hero would have been a stalwart character of social power, perhaps a police officer or a soldier.  Another notable feature of this particular horror film is its dealings with unjust seclusion to a person with mental illness.  To some extent, the character of Drabow nicely reflects that character of the crazy woman in the attic from Jane Eyre who would be given her own narrative in Jean Rhys’s Wide Sargasso Sea.  The reflection exists in the fact that a person is placed in solitary confinement for no apparent reason and is not allowed access to the world she created.  It is only suggested that Drabow had a child and that the child’s father is completely out of the picture.  Similar to the woman in the attic who burns down the Rochester house in revolt, Drabow is doing so out of vengeance, as well as lack of acknowledgement.  It could be argued that if Drabow were simply allowed access to her child then none of the terrible instance would have occurred.  Unfortunately, this is not the case and the result is gruesome to say the least.  Horror predicates itself on the absurd, however, it also reminds viewers that in  many of these instances the vengeful ghosts are doing so for a clear social injustice done to them in the past, and as such it is a call to end such irrational behavior in contemporary settings.

The Woman in Black is still making its way through theaters and is incredibly cinematic.  Take some friends with you, as it is certainly an edge of the seat viewing experience.  As for the eventually release, it is certainly a bluray grab for horror fans.