Review #1,379: 'Torture Garden' (1967)

Just like their main rival Hammer Films, British production company Amicus Productions was attempting to conquer the lucrative horror market in the 1960s and 70s. While Hammer found success with their literary properties such as Dracula, Frankenstein and the Wolf Man, Amicus found a niche in portmanteau films; anthology tales containing multiple stories, with each featuring one of the hapless chumps gathered together for the opening scenes. The first was Dr. Terror's House of Horrors, directed by Freddie Francis and starring Peter Cushing, and Terror's moderate success led to Torture Garden, with both director and star returning. We open at a fairground sideshow, where showman Dr. Diablo (Burgess Meredith) is inviting customers into his tent for some cheap thrills. When the group fail to be impressed by Diablo's shtick, he dares them behind the curtain where more terrifying revelations await them. It will cost them an extra five bob though.

Naturally, the group's curiosity gets the better of them, and they proceed behind the curtain. Awaiting them is a motionless fortune teller (Clytie Jessop) holding a pair of shears. Stare into the shears, Diablo tells them, and their destiny will appear before them. First up is Colin (Michael Bryant), who holds back his rich uncle's (Maurice Denham) medicine as he lays dying in the hope of finding out where his dough is hidden. The uncle dies however, so Colin searches for the loot. What he stumbles upon is a demonic cat who demands murder in exchange for gold coins. Next is Carla (Beverly Adams), a Hollywood up-and-comer who steals her best friend's date for the night, and winds up at the table of big time producer Eddie Storm (John Phillips) and heartthrob actor Bruce Benton (Robert Hutton). Benton has been around for years but hasn't seemed to have aged a day. She soon discovers his secret and the reason why stars of the silver screen maintain their youthful beauty. The third story, seen through the eyes of Dorothy (Barbara Ewing), tells of her doomed romance with concert pianist Leo (John Standing), and how their relationship comes under threat when Leo's piano becomes jealous with murderous rage.

Torture Garden saves the best story for last, and features two screen heavyweights in Jack Palance and Peter Cushing. In The Man Who Collected Poe, Palance plays Poe enthusiast Ronald, who visits renowned Poe collector and the possessor of the greatest screen name ever, Lancelot Canning. Canning has collected everything from the great writer's possessions to his actual manuscripts, but Ronald notices that some of these unpublished writings have been scribbled on 1966 paper. Like all anthology films, some stories work better than others. The first three segments range from passable to downright terrible, with the third part, Mr. Steinway, proving the most ridiculous and forgettable. Amicus would go on to make more, such as The House That Dripped Blood, Tales from the Crypt and The Vault of Horror, and Torture Garden may just be the most disposable of the bunch. It's worth seeing for Palance and Cushing trying to out-ham each other in what is the only truly engrossing story of the bunch, and Burgess Meredith has fun in what is essentially a re-hash of his Penguin character from the Adam West Batman television series. As a complete film, it's both too camp to be scary and not camp enough to be charming.


Directed by: Freddie Francis
Starring: Burgess Meredith, Jack Palance, Peter Cushing, Michael Bryant, Beverly Adams, Barbara Ewing, Michael Ripper, Robert Hutton
Country: UK

Rating: **

Tom Gillespie

Review #1,049: 'Nightmare' (1964)

Freddie Francis' Nightmare is one of those lesser-known movies from Hammer Films which usually finds itself lumped together in box sets dominated by their more popular Dracula, Frankenstein and The Mummy series. It's obscurity is slightly unfair, as this black-and-white psychological horror-come-slasher unravels itself cleverly and with a healthy dose of style. Written by Hammer regular Jimmy Sangster, Nightmare conjures up a fair share of creepiness despite its age, and often feels somewhat Hitchcockian in its execution.

Janet (Jennie Linden) is a young girl attending boarding school. At night, she is plagued by nightmares of when she witnessed the stabbing of her father at the hands of her deranged mother. As her mental state worsens, she is sent back home to her guardian Henry Baxter (David Knight) and assigned a nurse Grace Maddox (Moira Redmond). Soon after arriving, Janet starts to have visions of a woman she has never seen before with a huge scar on her cheek. Essentially a movie broken into two parts, the second act cannot be summarised without giving away a spoiler.

The visuals are rather bland - Hammer tended to churn out movies quickly and cheaply to serve as a starter for the main event in cinemas - but the black-and-white photography gives the film a gothic, and almost noirish, sense of style. While Knight is enjoyably smug, the rest of the cast fail to make any real impression, with the pre-Women in Love (1969) Linden extremely lucky to find herself cast after a number of preferable choices, including Julie Christie who chose to make Billy Liar instead, were unavailable. But the film's flaws are to be expected - it is a quickie B-movie after all - and it makes the most of its limitations. The plot's mystery is engrossing and the pacing is odd yet intriguing, and I would recommend Nightmare to any fan of British horror.


Directed by: Freddie Francis
Starring: David Knight, Moira Redmond, Jennie Linden, Brenda Bruce
Country: UK

Rating: ***

Tom Gillespie