Continued from Part 1...

X - the unknown rating

It's interesting to note that Hammer Horror films all contained their fair share of gore from the onset and were often certified "X" when released in the States (although back then the distinction, or lack of one, was very different than an X-rating today). As the 60s ended, not only was there more crimson running in Hammer movies, but much more nudity and sex as well. Perhaps owing to the increased exposure to their films through production partnerships with Columbia and Universal, what was once a field largely kept to themselves was now crowded with similar entertainment. Take, for example, the Roger Corman version of The Raven - good on many levels, but it would be fair to say, cut squarely from Hammer's red velvet cloth. There were even imitators at home, as Amicus Studios released many fine horror anthology features in England.

But Hammer kept chugging along. In 1970, director Jimmy Sangster lensed a Frankenstein feature without Cushing as the Baron. The late Ralph Bates played Von Frankenstein's descendant, Victor, in Horror of Frankenstein. More farcical than earlier entries, it was also less successful.

Roy Ward Baker's The Scars of Dracula (1970) came out only months prior to Peter Sasdy's Taste the Blood of Dracula, and the edge must be given to the former for originality. Taste's three Victorian metrosexuals who resurrect the Prince of Darkness are such stupidly evil ninnies that Dracula actually becomes the good guy in this, one of the best later Hammer entries.

Karnstein trilogy

From the same year, a new franchise of sorts was begun, and while it doesn't have the marquee value of a certain Count or mad scientist, it's an enjoyable series of films indeed. Ingrid Pitt starred in The Vampire Lovers, the first of the so-called Karnstein trilogy. Cushing again played a Vampire hunter, Baron Hartog, his family wiped out by the Karnsteins, a family of vampires. Hartog finds their graves and stakes all the Karnsteins to their just rewards save one, the beautiful Mircalla Karnstein. Years later, now calling herself Carmilla, she returns. Noted for its overt themes of lesbianism, the lovers implied in the name are not your mom's vampires.

Sensing they were on to something, Hammer wasted no time in producing two follow-ups. The first, 1971's Lust for a Vampire, directed by Jimmy Sangster, cast the impossibly European Yutte Stensgaard as Miracalla Karnstein, pupil at an exclusive girls finishing school, albeit one with an undying secret. Ignorant of this, her teacher (Ralph Bates) falls in love with her. Only when a series of mysterious deaths beset the school do the pieces fall together and the villagers dust off their torches. And the last of the Karnstein films saw twin Playboy models Mary and Madeleine Collinson cast as the Twins of Evil (aka Twins of Dracula). All of the Karnstein thrillers are a blast to watch and among the sexiest films Hammer produced. They were matched only by that year's Countess Dracula, which offered up much the same mix of eroticism and the supernatural.

The trend towards the sexualization, if not the feminization, of Hammer continued with two other films from 1971. In Blood from the Mummy's Tomb, a group of archeologists find (what else?) a mummy and bring it back to London. It's discovered to be the shell of the Egyptian Queen Tera, whose spirit takes over the body of the daughter of one of the explorers (the gorgeous Valerie Leon and the perennially tweedy Andrew Keir, respectively). Better still is Dr. Jekyll and Sister Hyde, directed by Roy Ward Baker and starring Ralph Bates as the nebbishy Jekyll and Martine Beswick as his much better half. The well-meaning doctor turns, after one of his experiments, into a beautiful if unreasonably evil woman, who decides that female hormones (and, thus, the lives of a few London girls) are necessary for further study and a small price to pay to be rid of the common cold.

The end of the run

There were two more Dracula films to go and one last Frankenstein before Hammer hung its bloody shingle, but they still had a few original concepts on the shelf. 1972's Vampire Circus begins with 19th Century villagers uniting to slay Count Mittelman, the psychopath responsible for a rash of murders. Years later, a circus visits the village, now ridden with plague. At first people are thrilled - at least until their children begin dying. As the title implies, it's not a family-friendly circus.

1974's Captain Kronos, Vampire Hunter takes the opposite tack. Attempting to lure families to a new franchise, Hammer combined a familiar supernatural threat with superheroic swashbuckling action. The sword-fights between vampire and slayer are thrilling in the way that Hammer's early, long-running series of Robin Hood films had been. However, any chance for a Captain Kronos series foundered.

An even more imaginative film concept was Legend of the 7 Golden Vampires (1973), an unprecedented co-production fusing Hammer Horror with Hong Kong's legendary Shaw Brothers studio. Even the presence of Peter Cushing as Van Helsing and the fetching Julie Ege don't really make this a "pure" Hammer film. Action is foremost, as directed by the pre-eminent martial-arts choreographer Lau Kar Leung, overshadowing the plot involving Dracula, played only this once (thankfully) by John Forbes-Robertson. Recommended mainly for Hong Kong martial arts fans.

Christopher Lee and Peter Cushing reunited for Dracula AD 1972, which updated Dracula and Van Helsing's conflict to modern Swingin' London. Hipster Johnny Alucard (revelc woh), great-grandson of one of the Dark Prince's former servants, plans to raise the Count from the dead. Unfortunately, he occasionally swings with a bird called Jessica (Stephanie Beacham), Van Helsing's granddaughter. The film also features Caroline Munro (who was also in Kronos) and the rock band Stoneground.

In Frankenstein and the Monster from Hell (1974) the Baron is a warden of an insane asylum (note to Baron: fire agent). One of his charges, Dr. Helder was a fan of the Baron's crimes against humanity and was committed for trying to emulate them. Sick fun, with future Darth Vader David Prowse as the monster the madmen team up to create.

The last Hammer franchise film, The Satanic Rites of Dracula (1973; aka Dracula and his Vampire Bride, and co-starring future AbFab star Joanna Lumley) has Van Helsing sent to investigate the owner of a country manse where a Satanic ritual has taken place. Christopher Lee later complained of having the character with whom he was most often associated reduced to a supernatural version of the Godfather, but frankly, all film series as long-lived as Hammer's Dracula pictures should go out with such a bang.

If only the same could be said for Hammer's last theatrical horror film, To the Devil, a Daughter (1976). It boasts, pound for pound, one of Hammer's best casts - Richard Widmark, Honor Blackman, Denholm Elliot and Christopher Lee, in addition to a Nastassja Kinski so young I dare anyone, regardless of orientation, not to feel at least mildly uncomfortable watching her. But mildly uncomfortable is just how Widmark looks; he was so repelled by the script he couldn't even be bothered to mail in his performance.

But when all is said and done, it wasn't a bad run for Hammer. For many independent filmmakers today, the choices are whether to make a film which looks expensive with very limited funds, or to make a film that looks low budget as much by design as out of necessity. The difference is that in Hammer's heyday you weren't supposed to know how little a film cost, and the biggest job was making your B-Movie more closely resemble an "A." Of all the movie houses I know of, Hammer did that best.

Hammer minutia:

• Freddie Francis, in addition to directing several Hammer features was also their signature Director of Photography. He's been used often by top filmakers since the demise of Hammer, among them, Martin Scorsese for his Cape Fear as well as by David Lynch in The Straight Story.

• The composer responsible for most of Hammer's classic scores was James Bernard. Many of his opening themes duplicated the cadence of the film's title in that of the melody. Example: The theme from Curse Of Frankenstein is a carefully placed 5 notes, one for each syllable in the title. So feel free to sing along as the credits roll, especially with Plague of the Zombies or Hound of the Baskervilles. Another amusing tidbit: Most of the soundtracks to Hammer films were recorded at a place called Anvil Studios.

• Bernard Robinson was Hammer's Art Director and Production Designer until his death in 1970. As well as being the man responsible for the glorious monster-as-piece-of-tripe in the Quatermass Xperiment one could also assume he pushed for all the velvet.

• Anyone asked, "Who acted in more Hammer films than any other actor?" could be forgiven for guessing Cushing or Lee. But the hardest working actor in the House of Horror is a different fellow: Appropriately named Michael Ripper was usually cast in a supporting or minor role, often as a character who dies early on in the film; Ripper made it into more Hammers than any other actor.

Jeremy Wheat's Favorite Hammer Films:

• The Devil Rides Out: Often cited as the last great Hammer Horror film. Some consider it their best film period. Or the best Victorian thriller involving satanism from the 60s. Regardless, it's a jewel in their crown; Christopher Lee galloping around, fighting with doomsday cultists... what more could you want?

• Quatermass and the Pit: Made to end a sci-fi trilogy that most American film-goers weren't even aware of. An unlikely choice perhaps, but still a damn classic. Great cast and visuals make this a fantastic sci-fantasy must.

• One Million Years B.C.: If you didn't see this when you were a kid you need to see it now - especially if you didn't realize it was a Hammer film. For better or worse, it's the sexiest G-rated movie of all time. It's fun to make mock of the fake beards, fun to communicate exclusively by grunting after watching it and, not least of all, fun because of those Ray Harryhausen dinosaurs. A loincloth-wearing, prehistoric must.
  

• Hound of the Baskervilles: Another one-off, and the only disappointing thing about it is that it didn't spawn a series. It's still one of the most corking mystery yarns ever. They make a truly horrific monster of the hound and modernize the stuffy Holmes character whole. Plus you get an impassioned and well-spoken Lee in full-tweed playboy mode. An elementary must.

• The Vampire Lovers, Lust for a Vampire, Twins of Evil: Cheating by counting a trilogy as one? If Euro-Victorian sappho-erotic horror is your bag, you'll be seeing all of these at any rate. Vampire Lovers is the best of the bunch. Countess Dracula, like Vampire Lovers, with the icy and exotic Ingrid Pitt, while not part of the Karnstein films, is also recommended. Tittillatingly gothic musts all.

• Curse of Frankenstein: The Frankenstein series as a whole is just more watchable than the relatively spottier Dracula series; all things considered, these made for the best Hammer film series. Cushing is in nearly every one, which helps a lot, but what really cranks up the score is that the stories themselves are more inventive overall. Start with this one, the only to feature Christopher Lee as the Monster.

• Horror of Dracula: On the other hand, this film in particular is one of their best. I think most people regardless of gender or taste if shown a line-up of Max Schreck, Lugosi, Oldham and Lee, then told, "Pick one of these geezers to bite you," would point unhesitatingly at Lee, sexier here and more urbane than in subsequent outings as the Count. Seductive, atmospheric, and groundbreaking.

• Frankenstein Must Be Destroyed: Why pick on the Monster? Everyone knows it's the Baron who causes all the trouble. Some of the slickest hooks in Hammer history are in this rousing tale of brain-swapping. A sick, twisty must.
• Curse of the Werewolf: Oliver Reed is the werewolf. Think about it... the one guy on earth who could out-drink Lon Chaney Jr. playing swingin' London's very own lycanthrope. A fanged, furry must.

  Brides of Dracula: What? A non-Christopher Lee Dracula makes the short list? Brides should have spun off Peter Cushing into his own Van Helsing series - he's that good in it. A red velvet tone poem to gothic horror.

Go back to Part One.