Saturday, June 29, 2019

An American Werewolf In London-No-A British Werewolf In Spain-Hammer Productions’ “The Curse Of The Werewolf” (1961)-A Film Review

An American Werewolf In London-No-A British Werewolf In Spain-Hammer Productions’ “The Curse Of The Werewolf” (1961)-A Film Review




DVD Review

By Sarah Lemoyne

The Curse Of The Werewolf, starring Oliver Reed, 1961     

No,  I am not going to use this space to further the “dispute,” the piddle that I can see old wise and wizen Sam Lowell calling his classic “tempest in a teapot” with Seth Garth over my so-called indiscretion, my faux pas if you will, about snitches, finks, you know guys and gals who squeak to the law for some reason usually to save their own asses, my expression from stir, from jail. Jesus with that “stir” I am starting to write like Seth. That came about when as I saw it Angela DeMarco in my review of Married To The Mob was ready to play ball with the law to get out from under the mob which was crowding in. I said it was in the interest of love as well since Angela had a thing for Mike the FBI guy who was following the mob and following her. That was then and this is now when I am on a different crusade and if Seth wants to make something of it, wants to wonder why I am defending who I am defending then bring it on, just bring it on. Hell, you’re the one who said I such be more assertive so live with it.     

This is the real deal I care about today. I am here to tell you that werewolves like some other furry animals like ferrets, weasels and coyotes, have taken some terrible public relations beating in novels and on the screen and I going all out to defend these poor creatures who have been misshapen by situations not of their own making. Case number one, the case before us which will serve as a not gentle reminder of what humans, what you and I have don’t to make werewolves even more hated by the general population than Frankenstein who at least had the defense that he was created by some evil genius as we celebrate the 200th anniversary of his creation, of his first publication.

Take the poor werewolf Leon, played by a very young and hungry actor Oliver Reed before he hit Hollywood and the glamour rounds, in the film under review The Curse Of The Werewolf. A few things different here or there, maybe a mother who could have nurtured him rather than dying in his time of need or have not been so mesmerized by a wretched prisoner in milord’s castle where her own mother worked like a slave to provide for that bastard duke.  

Naturally though, or it seems natural now after I have a few reviews under my belt, a story goes with it as the short story writer and gadabout Damon Runyon used to say as a lead in to some of his work, about how I wound up doing this review, this review in defense of werewolves which before I delved into the matter I could have not given a damn about (my expression although when my editor saw where I was going with the review his said the same thing. A review which will be one of eight in this Hammer Production series which is what that studio made its nut on. When I was hired on here as a stringer by site manager Greg Green I was given the six- part Hammer Production series of psychological thrillers which the studio produced in the late 1950s, early 1960s. I had done two which were subsequently published, and which Greg said were good for a new hire.

Then office politics, the “good old boy” tradition which Greg was brought in to break up according to Leslie Dumont came to the fore when old time critic Sam Lowell saw the reviews and complained to Greg that he should have given the assignment since he had previous done a six- part film noir series that Hammer produced in the early 1950s. I was kicked off of that series unceremoniously and Sam was given the assignment. Not only that but he had the right, the effrontery really, to give his slant on the two film reviews I did to in what he called “the interest of completeness.” Worse, worse by far, was that whatever Sam’s reputation in the industry half the time he has some stringer do the review under his name again according to Leslie Dumont and that is what he wanted, wants me to do, including essentially to trash my own reviews. I complained very loudly and to “buy me off” I was assigned by Greg to do this series. (I will say as well as further ammunition since this is also well known in some circles, and I will name names if I get any blowback on this, that many times in the old days Sam would if he had some weekend tryst planned or wanted to get drunk with the boys he would just grab whatever the studio publicity department put out on a film, cut the top off and submit that as his masterpiece. Things must have been pretty lax since according to my sources they were all published here under his name.)

So here goes.          

Of course as a kid I was afraid of horror movies, afraid of Freddie Kruger on Nightmare On Elm Street and Jason in the ten million Halloween productions. I don’t remember if beyond American Werewolf in London I had seen any classic werewolf movies and that is not germane to my defense anyway. What is germane, what we all have to think through a bit is how to treat sentient creatures who have been abused and screwed up by human endeavor. The new model has come to us recently via the love affair between a mute young woman, a human, and a creature from the Amazon in The Shape Of Water. So whatever “crimes” a “monster,” a creature, a werewolf commit they cannot be held to the same standards as human beings who after all created the bad situation in the first place. I think in this film it was mainly a question of misunderstandings and spite which produced the ill effects.           

Aside from some religious, apparently Catholic teachings about the sad fates of those humans who lose their souls and hence are prime candidates for werewolf-dom, beautiful Leon really never had a chance to grow up and be somewhat normal. What can you expect when some damn Spanish nobleman showing the degeneracy of his class a couple of hundred years ago when he did some poor beggar wrong and kept him captive in his private prison and forgot about him. Forgot about him except the guy had to be fed and one of the feeders who was a young mute girl who didn’t flinch at his condition. Then as the young girl grew to womanhood the damn nobleman decided he want to take the “right of the first night with her.” She refused and found herself in the private prison with that crazed and apparently sex-starved mad man. The poor bugger died after having his way with her and when she decided to go to the nobleman to seek her revenge she killed him brutally out of hand. Good riddance.

Good riddance except, and here there is a strain of credibility, that poor girl after running away from the crime scene was found by a river by a kindly gentleman who took her in along with his wife and thereafter found that she was with child. The portents were not good when she died in childbirth and the gentleman and his wife raised Leon who exhibited some strange and bloody quirks even when young. Not good    

That was where the good gentleman went to the Church to see what could be done and was told the tale about soul lost and about the power of romantic love to conquer this beastly behavior. And it almost worked once Leon became smitten by the daughter of the guy he was working for in a winery when he came of working age. Almost but the power of evil was too strong and everything came to a head one horrible night after Leon had gone on a mad man killing spree and the towns people sought vengeance. Poor bedeviled Leon cornered, that kindly gentleman put the required by tradition silver bullet in the lad and that was the end of that poor misbegotten werewolf.

Except for one last comment that Hammer Productions known far and wide for its low- cost films must have spent about three dollars turning beautiful Leon into a raggedly werewolf that even I was not afraid of, not at all. That sentient being deserved better. And maybe Seth Garth does too but don’t tell him that.

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