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Weak Meekness Leads to One’s Own EVIL Destruction. “Catacombs” reviewed! (Imprint / Blu-ray)

Posted by Steven Lewis on

Own Your Copy of Imprint’s “Catacombs” on Blu-ray!

Ellen Garth, a strong willed and wealthy but physically afflicted businesswoman devotes her all her love to an enervated doormat of a husband, Raymond.  When Ellen’s beautiful young niece, Alice, returns to London from Paris after a year abroad, Raymond is smitten by her flirtations for older men and strikes up an affair behind his very perceptive and sly wife’s back who catches them in each other’s embrace.  Tired of being a slave to his wife’s controlling behavior and wanting to be free to court Alice, Raymond kills Ellen and buries her in the potting shed behind their honeymoon house in a plot conceived with Ellen’s right-hand secretary and former con, Dick Corbett.  Believing he’s free of her and having been willed her fortune to share with Alice, Raymond suddenly suspects, after a series of strange events, that he’s being haunted by Ellen’s ghost, or even worse, the undead Ellen herself. 

Black and while horror from half a century or more ago always leaves a lasting impression that terror and suspense can be created by virtually story and acting alone instead of a heavily reliance of special effects and visceral coloring, such as with gore or grotesqueness of the unfathomable creature.  The British film “Catacombs,” or otherwise known as “The Woman Who Wouldn’t Die” in America, is one of those fear manufacturing films generated by pure acting talent and the managing cleverness behind the camera.  The 1965 film is directed by “The Oblong Box” and “Scream and Scream Again” director Gordon Hessler with American screenwriter Daniel Mainwaring (“Invasion of the Body Snatchers”) penning the script based off an American novelist Jay Bennett’s novel of the same UK title.  Shepperton Studios served as house of operations for the Parsons-McCallum production under Neil McCallum and Jack Parsons and distributed by the BLF, British Lion Films.

There’s no such thing as wasted parts or throwaway performances in Hessler’s murderous-revenge haunt with precision-acute actors and actresses chin deep in their characters’ cruelty, callousness, conformity, and control.  Twists and tension-riddle rods help elevate this nearly 60-year-old film to refrain from aging poorly.  Gary Merrill, former husband of silverscreen actress Bette Davis and star of “All About Eve,” plays the meek husband Raymond wed into money but at the cost of his manhood.  Merrill plays convincingly into Raymond’s submissive, passive nature under the more dominant but fair and kind mogul lady Ellen Garth, a hip-afflicted women that doesn’t feel the ailment impede her wealth or attitude in life by way of British actress Georgina Cookson.  In the mix is Ellen and Raymond’s parentless niece Alice who has returned from her studies in Paris seemingly transfigured from a chubby child to a beautiful lady.  Jane Merrow, who co-headlines “Catacombs” with Merrill, finds her stride as the elder-entangling Alice secretly at-odds with her aunt by seducing Raymond behind her back.  Rounding out the principal foursome is Neil McCallum (“Dr. Terror’s House of Horrors’) as Ellen Garth’s sneaky secretary Dick Corbett who has a façade of a hard worker, but Corbett can’t keep up with boss’s demanding energy and is itching to subvert her.  When the story’s peak turning point hits, the expectation of character change recedes back to status quo as if Ellen’s death changed nothing other than open the door of opportunity for Raymond and Alice to connect without concern.  Yet, that inkling of shame, guilt, and fear, mixed under a plot of deception and murder, has the reverse effect of a now burdenless happiness, producing a very little capricious life-change, especially in Raymond who is still as amiable as ever.  “Catacombs’” fills out the intimate cast with Rachel Thomas and Frederick Piper.

The actual use of catacombs, or subterranean burial grounds, has little do in the film other than in its infinitesimal moment of being a key piece of evidence toward something amiss, a tell for foreboding or already doomed health, and serves as one playful, paralleling reason to Ellen’s resurrection, though not reflected in plain sight as playful or parallel by Hessler.  What’s intended the most is building the mysterious dread around Ellen Garth’s return in a semi-gloss gothic polish aimed to crack Raymond and Alice’s psyche in half.  Hessler breeds tension after tension to engulf the characters in an unrelaxing state of disgrace and distrust and what makes the matters worse for Raymond and unscrupulous company is while Ellen Garth may have held all the cards being an authoritative woman of status and wealth, she showed loyalty, humility, and adored her family, friends, and lover despite their flaws and circumstances.  That unjustifiable murder stings audiences the most, a straight shot to the sympathetic heart that creates a need to see those responsible punished by Ellen’s earth-soiled, grave-escaping, dead-cold hands with edge of your seat anticipation.  Is Ellen Supernaturally haunting her killers or is the guilt driving them mad? 

The only way to find out in glorious high-definition is to pick up a copy of Imprint Film’s definitive Blu-ray version of “Catacombs” on an AVC encoded, 1080p, BD50 presented in a 1.66:1 European aspect ratio. The black and white picture receives a 4K scan from the original nitrate negative for its worldwide Blu-ray debt and though not much to mention in regard to colorization and black levels, the monochrome remains sharp at all times in a pristine negative that sees no damage. Usually, black and white can issue fuzziness, heavy grain, and ghosting during spliced cell overlap but this print, or rather this scanned print, looks amazingly fresh, holding patterns and transitioning seamless to the highest of restorative care. The English language is a mix between American and British English encoded with an uncompressed LPCM 2.0 mono, rendering a dialogue centric audio with composter Carlo Martelli brass band that’s minor keys taut tension to swell during the height of suspense. Dialogue is clean and clear with very minimal crackling; there’s no wispy or hissing detected. Although the mono feed vectors flatly, the range surrounding “Catacombs” is vast and timed to tackle distinction between the audio idiosyncrasies. Optional English subtitles are available. Special features include an exclusive feature-length audio commentary with authors Jonathan Rigby (“English Gothic: Classic Horror Cinema 1897-2015”) and Kevin Lyons, a new interview with co-star Jane Merrow on her experiences in “Catacombs” Merrow & Merrill, new interview with continuity supervisor Renee Glynne and sound designer Colin Miller The Glynne-Miller Story, a new interview with composer Carlo Martelli Martelli & Martell, and with a still gallery ending the bonus material. Housed in a Hammer blood red cardboard slipcase designed with a rendition of the original poster, the Imprint release is it’s 317th title. The clear Blu-ray Amaray case is even more colorful with a giallo-colored title and back cover, overtop a frightened scene with stars Merrow and Merrill. The reverse side of the cover has more of the psychotronic photo of Ellen Garth (Georgina Cookson) staring blankly into a pocket mirror to submit herself under a trance. The BD is pressed with the same red coloring and half-woman, half-death figure as the slipcase with no inserts included. One thing I will say on the negative side of the package is that the Amaray case is a bit difficult to extract from the slipcase; you kind of have to shimmy and shake it out enough to pull the case out. The 90-minute feature is unrated and did play on our region free player without having to setup flip to the desired region for playback.

Last Rites: Gorgeously macabre yet classic packaging, Imprint’s Blu-ray release of “Catacombs” is must-own Machiavellian umbra of greed and foul play, a timeless tale yarned to yield a megaton of shadow-lurking, supernatural suspense.

Own Your Copy of Imprint’s “Catacombs” on Blu-ray!

Who Let EVIL Out of the Bag? “The Catman of Paris” reviewed! (Imprint / Blu-ray)

Posted by Steven Lewis on

Meow!!  “The Catman of Paris” is on the Prowl on Imprint Blu-ray!

From rags to riches, writer Charles Regnier pens one of the most popular and polarizing books of France.  Titled Fraudulent Justice, the subject matter coincidently contains secret court case information in it’s text.  Regnier stands firm his book is creative fiction while the French government think otherwise.  When a government agent of the Ministry of Archives, carrying the detail accounts of the case to be reviewed, is found slashed to death and the case file missing, the police naturally suspect Charles Regnier while also another, eccentric police theory circulates of a monstrous cat person.  Regnier, who suffers from headaches and blackouts from a tropical fever he contracted during his two year travels away from Paris, begins to suspect himself as the deranged killer on the loose, attacking and killing those around him.  Without a solid alibi and the unknown from his blackout memories, Regnier evades the police by hiding with his darling lady friend, Marie Audet, but when the headaches begin and Regnier conscious slips into a strange darkness, will he let the cat out of the bag to strike again?

Let’s travel back in time to 1946, just after the Great Second War, when the movie industry rolled film once again and take a pawing look at Lesley Selander’s shapeshifting film noir “The Catman in Paris.”  Though story set in Paris, the black and white horror film helmed by “The Vampire’s Ghost” director is a United States product shot on location at the Republic Productions studios in Los Angeles, reusing and transforming many of the company’s stout storage of Western set pieces into Parisian milieus.  From the spittoon saloons to high end restaurants and from dusty stagecoaches to redesigned aristocrat carriages, Republic Pictures aimed to take transformative risks in order to hop on the Val Lewton and his 1942 “The Cat People” success train while making statements of his own from a Sherman L. Lowe (“Valley of the Zombies”) script.  “The Catman of Paris” is produced by Belarus expat Marek Libkow who fled Europe because of World War II but the feature would be his last producing feature.

In the ambiguous role that puts into question his sanity and his humanity is the Austrian actor of “Slave Girl,” Carl Esmond.  Esmond plays the rift creating writer adored by the public and despised by the government, driving him back into a corner of continuous defense of his work that has been argued to be plagiarized form secret documents and unlawful for the access of aforesaid secret documents regarding a controversial court case decades prior. On his tail is a paranormal receptive prefect of police (Fritz Feld, “Phantom of the Opera” ’43) and a more pragmatic inspector named Severen (Gerald Mohr, “The Monster and the Girl”) who, based on little-to-no evidence, immediately suspect the writer by affiliation to the court case he could in no way possible have known. This dichotomy of theory doesn’t affect the prime suspect, doesn’t seep into a larger suspect pool, and keeps the investigation status quo up until the revealing finale, but the police state characters have subjectively targeted Regnier with all but a harassment mentality, adding to Regnier’s conflicted dismay about the association between the killings and his disassociation with consciousness – which is visualized by a series of random, inverted images of a gusty barren tundra, a buoy gushing ocean water, a dark and cloudy moon, and a black cat’s eyes at the center. Regnier finds comfort in the bosom of Marie Audet (Lenore Aubert, “Abbett and Costello Meet Frankenstein”) over his finance (Adele Mara, “Curse of the Faceless Man”) and in his promised fickleness, broke her heart before falling victim to the cat’s claw in a metaphoric gesture of aggressive sexual assault. The whole love triangle is loosely adhesive to “The Catman of Paris’s” integral entanglement of un-kittenish affairs. In fact, Regnier is very kittenish with Marie to the point that his engagement appears to be frivolously made and has locked him into an inescapable promise because of emasculating masculine posture. Instead, the writer could care less about his word, or rather conveniently forgets, as he plays footsy with the girl of his dreams. “The Catman of Paris” rounds out the cast with Douglas Dumbrille, Francis Pierlot, and Georges Renavent.

Long thought derivative of Val Lewton’s “The Cat People’s” success, Republic Pictures challenges the perspective with a cattier fracture of manhood, putting the main protagonist of their own cat person horror, “The Catman of Paris,” through the whiskery wringer of test and tribulations of harboring suspicions about oneself. Charles Regnier has seen the other side of the tracks. For all intents and purposes, Regnier was a nobody who suddenly rose to respect and wealth in the eyes of the general public with the stroke of a pen for creative thought to formulate an enthralling story, out of the fabric of his own mind he assumed he wrote. Yet, his work of fiction has also become a sign of guilt, suspicion, and unlawfulness in the eyes of the authorities. If the weight of the government isn’t burdensome enough, Regnier is also divided with personal doubt when a killer’s bodies pile during his time spent in a stint of amnesia and all of evidential signs point in his clueless direction. The more dire latter echos his former self in a subconscious belief that he isn’t his true self, such as with imposter syndrome in which he questions his current, more affluent status and fame with being contributed by a darker, murderous side, perhaps a sign of his impecunious past. The story has Regnier averting decisions to marry into opulence when he really just wants to continue his fervent pursuit of his publisher’s daughter, a sign that now he’s worth a pretty penny, he can muster enough confidence to chase after the woman of his dreams and still feel grounded to the common people despite is sudden wealth. At one point in time, “The Catman of Paris” was a harrowing horror tale with fantastic prosthetic cat features, a decent carriage chase and crash sequence, and a whodunit mystery quencher for the masses, but, for today, the 1946 is about as antiquated as they come like most of “The Golden Age of Film” features with a one-note suspense narrative and a monotone melodrama that’s imposing and frank without a lot of flair. I will say one thing about “The Catman of Paris'” twist ending is it’s not easily reckoned as Selandar has beguiling direction to pile on guilt to the point that audiences will have to submit to the director’s feline frisky hokum.

A part of the Imprint Collection, coming in at #219 on the spine, is “The Catman of Paris” on an Australian Blu-ray release. The limited edition high-definition release is AVC encoded on a single layer, BD25. The 1080p Blu-ray presentation comes from a 2017 4K scan of the original negative and is presented in the Academy ratio of 1.37:1. The original print material has sustained a few visible marks of infrequent vertical scratch damage, minor dust and dirt, total loss single frames, noticeable cigarette burns, and wavering levels in grayscale and contrast stability during edit transitions. Yet, there’s still a richness of the black and white image for the majority that refuses to fold outside the competent restoration attempt that gives dimension to a nearly 80-year-old film. The overall picture is a solid pass above par as it’s likely the best we’ll ever see in our time. The English language LPCM 2.0 mono track crescendos with a run of the mill brass band score overtop a quite clean dialogue track. Sure, the unmitigated track is slightly sullied by a consistent yet unimposing shushing with sporadic, stifled popping; however, there are no major issues with the mix and the dialogue through the dual channel is clean and distinguishable. Optional English subtitles are available. Special features include a new audio commentary track feature film historians Kim Newman and Stephen Jones, an oldfangled feature length documentary running through the cinematic history of stills and video clips from Republic Pictures The Republic Pictures Story, and a film historian Kat Ellinger video essay entitled Mark of the Beast: Myth Making and Masculinity in The Catman of Paris. Imprint’s tangible package is eye catching with color-washed front cover image on a thick cardboard side-slipcase; the illustration is pulled from one of the feature’s various marquee posters. Inside the slipcase, a character composition mockup includes the menacing Catman at the forefront with Regnier and female principals frozen in fear. The Imprint release runs at a slim 64 minutes, is unrated, and has a region free playback. “The Catman of Paris” is in servility of early Cat People productions but stands on its own two, or rather four, feet with an entrenching murder mystery that can keep you anthropomorphically guessing.

Meow!!  “The Catman of Paris” is on the Prowl on Imprint Blu-ray!

The Death of a Daughter Leads Down to a Psychological Path of EVIL! “The Haunting of Julia” reviewed! (Imprint / Blu-ray)

Posted by Steven Lewis on

Limited Edition of “The Haunting of Julia” Available at Amazon.com!

This morning was like any other as the Julia rustles up breakfast for her all-business husband Magnus and their lively vivacious daughter Kate, but when Kate violent chokes on a piece of apple and Julie performs a bloody, untried tracheotomy in a state of panic in order to save her daughter’s life, their lives are forever changed as Katie dies in Julia’s arms. For weeks, Julia’s melancholic depression commits her to hospital care. When she’s ready for release per the Doctor’s recommendation, Julia avoids returning to Magnus as their relationship was never a mutually loving one but rather a normal route connected by the presence of their daughter Kate. In order to restart her life, Julia separates from a controlling Magnus and purchases a magnificent London house only to then be plagued by ghostly occurrences she suspects is the work of her late daughter. What Julia comes to find out is the troubling history of her newfound home.

Mia Farrow solidified herself as a genre actress by starring in the archetype for films revolving around the prince of darkness, Satan, in 1968 with “Rosemary’s Baby.”  Unlikely seeing herself as a prominent woman of a notable rite horror, Farrow quickly understood her value in the genre as a complex female lead in the unsettling and gothic protuberance atmosphere style.  Nearly a decade later, Farrow stars in the Richard Loncraine directed “The Haunting of Julia,” similar only to the menacing supernatural child component but digs deeper in manipulative complacency, psychological guilt, and of that distorted reality created by the stout motherhood connection.  The “Slade of Flame” director set his sights off of Rock’N’Roll inspired dramas around the ugliness of the music industry and onto the filmic adaptation of the Peter Straub novel “Julia,” penned by the Dave Humphries and “Xtro” trilogy director Harry Bromley Davenport.  The joint United Kingdom and Canadian production, titled originally as “Full Circle” in the UK, is produced by Peter Fetterman (“The Exorcism of Hugh”), under Fetterman Productions, and Alfred Pariser (“Shivers”) of the Canadian Film Development Corporation. 

Mia Farrow’s distinct reactions and acting style very much engulfs the majority of horror experienced in “The Haunting of Julia,” as well as exhibited in “Rosemary’s Baby.”  The glassy eyed, long stares, the frightened, coiled emotions that swirl seemingly out of control, and the switch-gear ability to be strong and compliant in tense-riddled situations that just only involve herself in the scene.  While “Rosemary’s Baby’ and “The Haunting of Julia” may exact the same gothic aperture for child-themed horror and both are adapted literary works, “The Haunting of Julia” unfolds not in the anticipating of child birth but rather postmortem with the aftermath affliction of a child’s sudden and terrible demise that occurred in the frantic mother’s misguided embrace to take a knife right to her child’s jugular in hopes of dislodging an air denying obstruction.  This opening scene shocks us right into a grim framework that simultaneously divides trust and empathy for Julia as circumstances unveil what we might suspect all along, that Julia’s mental health suffered immensely.  What pushes Julia into undue stress is her controlling, dispassionate husband Magnus. Played by “Black Christmas’s” Keir Dullea.  Dullea pulls off the unsympathetic impassive father who just lost a child and can’t see the underlying psychological unrest his wife suffers.  In short, Magnus attempts to gatekeep Julia’s damaged psyche by trying to strong arm her back into normalcy, even going as far as manipulating Julia and his own sister Lily (Jill Bennett, “The Skull”) into slipping his foot into the door with a wife who fled from his grasp as soon as released from the hospital for essentially shutting down after their daughter’s death.  That toxic pressure is coupled with the seemingly unnatural incidences in her new home that clash her old life, chained to an unconsciously broken family, with her new life that seeks to decompress from a pair of diverse traumas.  “The Haunting of Julia” rounds out the cast with Tom Conti (“Blind Revenge”), Mary Morris (“Prison Without Bars”), Anna Wing (“Xtro”), Pauline Jameson (“Night Watch”), Peter Sallis (“Frankenstein:  The True Story”), Susan Porrett (“Plunkett & Macleane), Edward Hardwicke (“Venom”), and Sophie Ward (“Book of Blood”).

More or less forgotten by U.S. audiences due to no fault of the film’s own acclamatory measure or the audiences willing participation, the international produced “The Haunting of Julia” wasn’t publicized in the U.S. despite the two American leads – Mia Farrow and Keir Dullea.  Richard Loncraine’s film has incredible merit to the idea of a mother’s loss within the construct of gothic horror, which, in another aspect of unfathomable irony, resembled more closely to the American gothic style of the supernatural sequestered dark house.  Yet, this house is in London, wedged in like row homes, but as mentioned numerous times in the film, the house has distinction and grandeur that overlooks the buried ghostly history of the previous owners.  Julia absorbs the stories, filters through them, and comes to believe her own daughter is either trying to reach out to her or is hellbent on revenge for the amateur hour tracheotomy.  Loncraine does the phenomenal job of shocking our core with the early choking death scene of Julia’s daughter but once that dust settles, the pacing becomes more rhythmic to the point of building, slowly, Julia’s encounters with unknown forces that, at first, are just seemingly bizarre happenstances of left on bedroom plug-in radiators and playground visions of a girl that resembles her daughter cutting up another kid’s pet turtle.  These events play into their evident conspicuousness to push audiences deep into Julia’s mysterious milieu, officially sealing something isn’t right with the clairvoyant Ms. Flood’s scarred-screaming vision of a bloody child.  Julie become engrossed into learning the truth, eager to determine if that child is her late daughter and is fed tidbits of the house’s history that not only continues her own investigation but other research into other house tragedies that fork-split her presumptions.  As all this noise tornadoes around Julia, the stories, the occurrences, the deaths, viewers will never deduce to a reason closer to home, to Julia herself, until possibly too late at the end with a grisly open-ended finale that what Julia has been experience may have been done at her own forlorn hand. 

Atmospherically sound, undoubtedly creepy, and spearheaded by strong performances, “The Haunting of Julia” is the unspoken heroine of late 1970s supernatural horror – until now.  Imprint and Via Vision of Australia release a limited edition, high definition 1080p, 2-disc Blu-ray set with an AVC encoded BD50 of a new 4K scan transfer of the original 35mm negative. Presented in an anamorphic widescreen 2.35:1, the 4K scan is super sharp with virtually no compression issues on the formatted storage. Blacks, and negative spaces in general, are rich and void, despite Peter Hannan’s low-contrast and hazy surreal veneer that definitely plays into a psychotronic dreaminess. The resolution goes unaltered, and the natural grain maintains the original theatrical presentation for a revered 4k transfer. The English LPCM 2.0 mono track mix audibly delineates a viable one input split to make the dialogue and all other tracks comprehendible. Despite some slight here and there hissing, dialogue is amped up nicely for better resolved results that still remains mingled with the ambience in an all for one, one for all audio format. “Space Trucker’s” Colin Towns’s insidious and distinctly composed soundtrack reaches into the recesses of soul and strikes at the very nerve of fear with an unsettling score, perfectly suited for a mother drowning in the pitfalls of a supernatural sanctum. Optional English Hard-of-Hearing subtitles are available. The first disc special features include two audio commentaries – one with director Richard Loncraine and Simon Fitzjohn and the second, brand new, commentary with authors Jonathan Rigby and Kevin Lyons, new interviews with composer Colin Towns Breaking the Circle, cinematographer Peter Hannan Framing the Circle, and Hugh Harlow Joining the Circle, a new video essay by film historian Kat Ellinger Motherhood & Madness: Mia Farrow and the Female Gothic, the original trailer, and an option to play the film with either “The Haunting of Julia” or “Full Circle” opening title. The second disc is a compact disc of Colin Town’s 11-track score featuring 20 minutes of previously unheard music out of 60:52 of music. The limited-edition set comes with a neat lenticular cover on front of the hard box of what we assume is Julia’s ghost glaring at you from all angles as her eyes follow you. Inside is a clear Blu-ray snapper that’s a little thicker than your traditional snapper and comes with a built-in secondary disc holder. The cover art is simply Mia Farrow cowering outside the bathroom door but the reversible cover displays an original “Full Circle” poster as the front image. The disc arts are illustrative and compositions with the feature presentation disc the same as hard box lenticular without it being lenticular and CD pressed with Mia Farrow’s face in the background and a child’s cymbal banging toy in the foreground. Also in the hard box is a 44-page booklet feature an historical background essay by critic/writer Sean Hogan that has black and white and color photos and various poster art. The film, which comes in as Imprint catalogue # 218, runs at 97 minutes, is unrated, and, is assumed, for region A playback as it’s an Australian release – there is no indication on the package. “The Haunting of Julia” is Mia Farrow’s shining, yet lost effort post Roman Polanksi and is a remarkable look at subtle disconnection from extreme guilt when in every corner, every sign, is thought to be about your lost child.

Limited Edition of “The Haunting of Julia” Available at Amazon.com!