The Two Faces of Dr. Jekyll (1960)

aka House of Fright / Jekyll's Inferno

A Hammer Studios production based on Robert Louis Stevenson's tale, starring Paul Massie as both the Dr. Henry Jekyll and Mr. Edward Hyde characters.
Some intriguing concepts are discussed prior to the inevitable potion and transformation scene, including thoughts on how shame and morality might connect to notions of personal freedom. The talking sections are used to highlight how two opposing forces struggle for supremacy in each and every one of us, a conflict that gets its manifestation in a surprising way, when compared with cinema's handling of the same in previous years.

2½ locked-door keys out of 5

Four Sided Triangle (1953)

In a quiet English village three best friends, two boys and one girl, play together, unaware of what the future has in store for them. As adults, the two men create something that could change the world, but the destructive feelings of the emotional half of the duo jeopardises everything.
After viewing FST it's easy to see why Terence Fisher was given the Frankenstein gig when it came up. He successfully keeps the human element central in a story of science enabling a misguided conscience to sate its desires. The owner of the desires in question doesn't go to the same level of depravity that the Baron did, but he harbours an obsession that's surely equal in measure, one that Fisher pays foremost attention to.

3 new beginnings out of 5

The Mummy (1959)

Archaeologists (i.e. sophisticated thieves) forcibly enter the well-lit tomb of an Egyptian high priestess and in so doing invite the wrath of a centuries old curse upon their heads. Their transgression was in the name of education not profit but the distinction is unobserved by certain parties, one of which is a bandaged Christopher Lee who has every right to be pissed off.
Hammer had successfully set Lee against Cushing in Dracula (1958) and The Curse of Frankenstein (1957), so it made sense to have the pair return for a third year running with classic horror's third big hitter.
Attending to the relationships, familial on one side and romantic on the other, helped make it more than a simple tale of dusty revenge.

3 grave dangers out of 5

Frankenstein and the Monster from Hell (1974)

Hammer’s seventh and last Frankenstein feature was also director Terence Fisher’s last ever sitting in the big chair. His contribution to the franchise and to the studio's success is impossible to overstate.
What’s also to be applauded is the return of Cushing to the role of the Baron. The modest budget and awful creature effects made it even more important to have such a redoubtable character actor as a focal point. He delivers.
He’s hiding out in a hospital for the criminally insane. Well, he’s not exactly hiding, the building houses people that society at large ignores, which is the perfect environment for the Baron to continue his work uninterrupted. As such, the primary threat to his efforts are ones of his own making.
Despite a less gothic setting there’s a noticeable return to the glory days of Hammer, and a welcome reintroduction of a tragic aspect to the creature.

3½ private works out of 5

Frankenstein Must Be Destroyed (1969)

The resilient Frankenstein desires to cure a man he sees as a kindred spirit, both of them having worked on similar advanced medical theories, so he uses his wiles and his classy arrogance to turn a less than perfect situation into a morally dark but advantageous one.
Cushing as the Baron is amazing, and he’s finally learned to use a proper pseudonym, but there’s one thing about the story that bothered me. It turns out it was a last minute addition by a studio head, someone who seemed to have no understanding that in film when such actions are shown they require repercussions, or at the very least acknowledgement in subsequent scenes. Ignoring it completely attests to the pointless nature of it.
Despite that, the film is really good.  Unusually, there’s no creature, but there’s plenty of victims in more than one sense of the word.

3½ matters taken out of 5

Frankenstein Created Woman (1967)

The Baron’s continued fascination for creating life boils down to ‘the soul is the goal’. He wants to understand the spark of life. It was only a matter of time before he created something that had bumps in all the correct places, but to Hammer’s credit they did it in an unexpected way.
Ironically, one of the most powerful openings of the entire Frankenstein series may be part of the reason that many people dislike the fourth entry. Pitching the emotional content so high at the beginning means it has no choice but to subsequently fall to lesser levels. They’re furnished with a few unusual aspects, though, the most apparent being the court scene. Beneath that there’s commentary on what’s beautiful vs what isn't, even going so far as to make us wonder if any part of death can be equated with beauty.

3 magical sciences out of 5

The Revenge of Frankenstein (1958)

Picking up where The Curse of Frankenstein (1957) ended, Revenge follows the Baron as he sets up his shop of secret horrors elsewhere.
There’s a surprising amount of gallows humour in the first half that some folks may find unwelcome. Personally, I didn't mind it at all.
The addition of an aide, a tragic character affected by the cruelty of a society that thinks itself civilised, lifts the remainder of the film to great heights, and that, I'm sure we can all agree, was certainly a good idea.

Don't fall into thinking the 'revenge' of the title means things have been simplified or the focus shifted. Think of it as a strong redress for a judgement, working toward proving to oneself and others that you were right all along.

4 overhauls out of 5

The Hound of the Baskervilles (1959)

Peter Cushing played Sherlock Holmes many times but only once for Hammer Studios. His ever-alert, energetic portrayal will surely annoy some folks, but for me he’s the definitive version; so too is André Morell as Watson, a decent detective and reliable friend, not the bumbling idiot of some other works.
It’s unmistakably Hammer, the set-bound elegance is clear to see, and being adapted from a literary source as fine as their horror works meant it was their equal in almost every way. The only downside is the depiction of the moor itself. It needed a more chilling, eerie mystery characterising it.

4 creatures great and small out of 5

The Curse of Frankenstein (1957)

A trio of firsts for Hammer: their first horror in colour, their first Frankenstein film and the first of their productions to feature Christopher Lee.
The story is a confessional flashback, meaning the Baron’s evolution from cultivating an infectious curiosity to succumbing to an isolating obsession is paced by his own telling, working inexorably toward the creature’s reveal. Universal forbade the use of their existing iconic image, so Hammer had to make their own more gruesome version, sans 'neck-bolts'.
It’s money that enables the Baron to carry out his work; had he been a pauper the creature would never have been born, because meddling in pure science at that level is the preserve of the rich.

4 energies turned out of 5

Dracula: Prince of Darkness (1966)

It's the fourth of Hammer's vampire films but it begins by showing the ending of their first (1958), so if you haven't seen it consider doing so because the ending is the best part. PoD is set a decade later.
Christopher Lee returns to the Dracula role, so expectation is high, but he doesn't have much to say; and by 'much' I mean anything at all! He hisses but no words come out. It's not the handicap it may sound, because Lee's screen presence is so strong that all he needs to do is look the part and the illusion is sustained. In some areas it sacrifices logic for drama, but it's Hammer drama! I loved how when he walks across a room he goes into and out of shadow.

4 deathly pleasures out of 5

Brides of Dracula (1960)

Hammer’s follow-up to Dracula (1958) didn't have Christopher Lee as the main antagonist, but it did have gutsy Peter Cushing as Dr Van Helsing, thankfully.
The sets and costumes are magnificent, but the ‘brides’ are flimsy, useless additions to a script filled with illogical turns and modified vampire lore that outright contradicts its predecessor.
At times the gothic tones are closer to Tennessee Williams than to Bram Stoker. It shows that Hammer were either still experimenting with form or willing to take risks, but the script needed a lot more work.

2½ basic facts ignored out of 5

Dracula (1958)

aka Horror of Dracula (in the US)

It took huge liberties with Bram Stoker's story, but otherwise Hammer's first flirtation with Dracula is the best vampire film they ever made. The elaborate sets are beautifully lit. The creeping strings and timely crashing cymbals of James Bernard's score lift everything from routinely dramatic to legendary heights. What gets the most attention, deservedly so, is the addition of Christopher Lee in the lead role and Peter Cushing as his nemesis, the pursuant Dr. Abraham Van Helsing. Pitting those two against each other is like having mountains collide amid a thunderstorm.
The ending is the most memorable of any vampire film I've ever seen.

4 basic facts established out of 5

The Devil Rides Out (1968)

aka The Devil's Bride

A Hammer Horror based on a Dennis Wheatley novel of the same name, adapted for the screen by author Richard Matheson, It stars Christopher Lee as Duc de Richleau, a wealthy man driven by a moral need to save a close friend from losing himself to the clutches of a satanic society. The application of many of the rituals is pure hokum, and the plot has some major holes, but it’s a perfect example of the theatrical horror that the studio was famous for. Ultimately, it’s an old fashioned good vs evil adventure and, despite what one might call a cop-out ending, is my personal favourite of Hammer's films.

4 tall candles out of 5