Color, 1966, 89 mins. / Directed by Samuel Gallu / Starring Christopher Lee, Julian Glover, Jenny Till, Leila Goldoni, Ivor Dean / Written by Roger Marshall / Music by Elizabeth Lutyens Format: DVD - Anchor Bay (MSRP $24.95) / Letterboxed (2.35:1) (16x9 enhanced) / Dolby Digital 2.0 Mono
A cinematic tug of war between the entrenched blood and boobs gothic approach of Hammer and the approaching tide of more stylized, continental filmmaking which would characterize the films of Michael
The theater crowds of Paris are flocking to the gruesome displays at the Theatre du Mort, a theatre based on the Grand Guignol where tyrannical director Philippe Darvas (Lee) arranges the persecutions and murders of his female actresses for the public's delight. Roommates Nicole (Jenny Till) and Dani (Leila Goldini) are employed as part of Darvas' troupe, but their harmonious lives are disrupted by the arrival of police inspector Charles Marquis (Julian Glover), whose
Though not overtly frightening, Theatre of Death operates like a mad funhouse ride through established horror techniques throughout the world. The theatrical setting and many of its themes echo Karl Freund's Mad Love, the expressionist primary color design and witch persecution play draw upon the influence of Mario Bava, and the jagged whodunit structure owes more than a shade to the German krimi films derived from Edgar Wallace. Likewise, director Samuel Gallu tosses around a bizarre range of visual techniques ranging from elegant tableaux to dizzying hand held camera shots, making this a feast for the eyes even when the experiments don't quite pay off. Even for the time period the level of violence is surprisingly restrained, with the nearly nude dancers during the finale offering more of a jolt than any of the mostly offscreen murders; however, the film still maintains its grip on the viewer thanks to the sheer
The several virtues present in Theatre of Death have been completely smothered in years of faded, badly cropped TV and video prints (some under the U.S. title of Blood Fiend); thankfully those can all be set aside in the wake of Anchor Bay's DVD, which follows on the heels of a similar U.K. disc release. The transfer is nothing short of a knockout, with vivid colors capable of drawing gasps from viewers. The scope framing is absolutely essential to following the story, which is elliptical enough anyway; one crucial moment at the end has never made any sense at all in the pan and scan variants.
For what is widely considering a lower tier European horror title, Theatre of Death has been treated with a surprisingly lavish package (apart from the innocuous cover design, which in no way conveys the baroque visuals of the film itself). An 11-minute interview with Christopher Lee offers a quick sketch of his experience on the film, which he largely places in context with his Hammer work. Also included are the European trailer, radio spots, and a nice, extensive gallery of stills and posters from both sides of the Atlantic, as well as a Lee bio.
Reeves and most of the U.K.'s 1970s output, Theatre of Death is an odd, fascinating curio for horror fans. The presence of Christopher Lee in a sort-of leading role raises expectations for a barnstorming catalog of kitschy murders, but the film actually delivers something a little different.
investigation into a series of grisly "vampire" murders have led him to the theater. Meanwhile Darvas shows an increasing interest in young Nicole, whom he hypnotizes into a dangerous trance which has a habit of resurfacing at awkward moments onstage. Could the brutish Darvas be linked to the killings, or is there an even more sinister force at work?
oddness of it all, with each new scene promising another swerve into the unexpected.
