Dr. Terror's House of Horrors (1965) Horror Movie Review

by JC Richardson
(England)

Release: February 28, 1965
Directed by: Freddie Fancis
Written by: Milton Subotsky
Starring:

Christopher Lee as Franklyn Marsh
Max Adrian as Dr. Blake
Ann Bell as Ann Rogers
Michael Gough as Eric Landor
Jennifer Jayne as Nicholle

This movie truly is a smorgasbord for horror fans, with a delicious centerpiece in the form of Peter Cushing's Dr. Terror. The movie brings together an ensemble cast rarely seen in such a low budget movie.

Aside from Cushing, we have Christopher Lee, excellent as ever, Donald Sutherland, Michael Gough, and of course British TV & Radio stalwarts Roy Castle and Alan 'Fluff' Freeman. For fellow Limeys of a certain age, this really does present a trip down memory lane. Seeking to compete with the well-established Hammer Studios, American producer Milton Subotsky produced one of the quirkiest horror movies of the 60's, and it's a pleasure to take you on this strange journey.

Dr. Terror (‘an unfortunate misnomer, for I am the mildest of men...’) shares a train carriage with four strangers in the classic portmanteau template. Each stranger is read their fortune from Dr. Terror's Travelling Tarot and we see their terrible fates unfold. As per tradition, one of the strangers (Lee) plays the arch skeptic, whose disbelief is eroded over the course of the film. More on Lee later...

Our first tale features UberScot Neil McCallum (actually a Canadian) returning to his roots at a misty highland retreat. Naturally, events take a sinister turn and he is compelled to investigate an ancient tomb, mystery blood trails and a family curse which just won't stay buried. Yes, every full moon the family's nemesis returns from the grave as a werewolf and it's up to McCallum to put a silver bullet through its vulpine heart. Of course there's a twist in the hairy tale, which makes up for the central flaw in the plot. Do werewolves come out of graves at full moon? I though vampires came out of graves? Clearly an issue for the Monsters Union.

Next up is Alan Freeman, an institution in British radio, here seen returning from holiday with the most saccharine family in movie history. Their curiosity is piqued when a vine in their garden takes on a life of its own. Like any sensible family, they bring in an expert to deal with it - a botanist, complete with film reels to explain what the hell's going on. The expert is quickly outwitted by the plant (!) but soon its one weakness is exposed. James Bond fans will be amused by Bernard Lee's cameo in this segment. He stares into middle distance and smokes a pipe like it was full of opium, perhaps a wise option during filming.

By now Christopher Lee's skeptical art critic is really annoyed. It's time for the traditional mid-portmanteau break, where we get some light relief in the shape of Roy Castle. It's easy to forget that Castle was an excellent jazz trumpet player, and he demonstrates his mad skills with gusto. Castle's jazz band is shipped off to Haiti for a stint at a tourist trap hotel, where they are met by British comedy legend Kenny Lynch. Lynch warns Castle away from the local Voodoo gatherings, but naturally his warnings fall on deaf ears.

Castle steals a seriously groovy Voodoo beat, but finds himself stalked by an ancient Voodoo God for his misdemeanor. Every portmanteau has a semi-comedic section, and in this case 'semi-comedic' is an accurate description. As a jazz trumpet-meister and TV presenter, Roy Castle was almost without equal. As a movie actor, he was appalling. His mugging to camera and lame gags almost derail this train journey, and it's frankly a relief when we move onto the next tale of terror.

And so we come to Christopher Lee's destiny. Lee plays an obnoxious art critic who falls foul of a prank carried out by gentle artist Michael Gough. Lee's public humiliation leads to murderous revenge, naturally, and he is soon haunted by Gough's disembodied hand. The Hand itself is the star of the show here. Its animatronic jerkiness has a real charm, and it's testament to Lee's acting skills that he can actually show real terror in its presence. He stabs it, burns it, he even throws it in a river, but like some evil embodiment of his conscience, still it returns and leads to his undoing. After seeing ten minutes of Roy Castle acting, the performances in this tale are frankly superb.

Seeing Gough and Lee verbally sparring is a sight to behold, and the twist is absolutely delicious.

Finally we come to Donald Sutherland, at the height of his 60's hell-raising and playing a family man, of all things. Recently married to the delightfully French Jennifer Jayne (actually a Brit), he takes a position as a rural doctor. Sutherland is called in to see a young patient mysteriously lacking in blood. This, combined with pinprick marks on the boy's neck and his new bride's habit of turning into a bat, his suspicions are aroused...

Sutherland appears to find an ally in the form of a fellow doctor, but of course nothing is as it first appears. Sutherland gives a great performance, and to my embarrassment, I genuinely didn't guess the twist. I blame the lateness of the hour. Ahem.

The movie culminates when the travelers realize they have escaped their respective fates, but only at an even greater cost. The twists really come thick and fast here, as you may have noticed.

Dr. Terror's House of Horrors was directed by poached Hammer director Freddie Francis, and his talent as a filmmaker shines despite the low production values. The cast and script keep the movie afloat, even through the occasional weak patch, and I would recommend this movie to anyone with an eye for the quirkier end of the horror spectrum. Producer Subotsky went on to create further portmanteau films, most notably the Robert Bloch penned
'Asylum' - you know, the one where Herbert Lom plays a tiny robot?

Dr. Terror knows its roots well, and even borrows a line from the grandfather of this style - Dead of Night (1945). As he enters the carriage, Cushing points out 'there is room for one more, I think...' Genius.

4 out of 5