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The blog of author Dennis Cooper

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Vincent Price Night *

* (restored/expanded)

 

‘Vincent Price, the suavely menacing star of countless low-budget but often stylish Gothic horror films, died at his home in Los Angeles on Monday. He was 82 years old and died of lung cancer, a personal assistant, Reggie Williams, said.

‘The flamboyant 6-foot-4-inch actor with a silken voice and mocking air helped start a major revival of horror films in 1953 with his portrayal of a cruelly scarred sculptor in The House of Wax. He went on to play a succession of macabre characters in the director Roger Corman’s film adaptations of stories by Edgar Allan Poe, including Pit and the Pendulum and Masque of the Red Death.

‘Mr. Price appeared in scores of movies, more than 2,000 television shows and occasionally on stage. In his early films he frequently played historical figures — Sir Walter Raleigh in The Private Lives of Elizabeth and Essex (1939); Joseph Smith, the Mormon founder, in Brigham Young — Frontiersman (1940); England’s King Charles II in Hudson’s Bay (1941) and Richelieu in The Three Musketeers(1948).

‘In other supporting roles, Mr. Price was a caddish gigolo in Laura (1944), a cynical monsignor in The Keys of the Kingdom (1944), a murderous aristocrat in Dragonwyck (1946) and a florid actor in His Kind of Woman (1951).

‘But starting with the three-dimensional House of Wax, Mr. Price joined the pantheon of horror occupied by Bela Lugosi, Boris Karloff and Peter Lorre. His specialty was the tongue-in-cheek archfiend — often a demented scientist, inventor or doctor — whose talents had been corrupted and turned to evil ends.

‘”The best parts in movies are the heavies,” Mr. Price said in a 1971 interview. “The hero is usually someone who has really nothing to do. He comes out on top, but it’s the heavy who has all the fun.”

‘”Horror movies don’t date because they were dated to begin with, they were mannered and consciously so — Gothic tales with an unreality,” he said in 1977. “They have the fun of a fairy tale.”

‘”To me, films that deal with drug addiction, crime and war are the real horror films,” he said on another occasion. “In a world where slaughter and vicious crimes are daily occurrences, a good ghoulish movie is comic relief.”

‘He savored acting and dismissed people who looked down on his horror-film roles. “I like to be seen, I love being busy and I believe in being active,” he once said. “I know some people think I’ve lowered myself as an actor, but my idea of ‘professional decline’ is ‘not working.’ ”

‘Mr. Price was also a noted art connoisseur and collector. He lectured on art at colleges and clubs, tied for a top prize for his art expertise on The $64,000 Challenge television quiz show in 1956 and for years was a syndicated newspaper columnist on art. He was the art-buying consultant of Sears, Roebuck & Company, and he wrote several popular books on fine art. He was also an accomplished cook and was the co-writer of some best-selling cookbooks.

‘Vincent Leonard Price’s manner and speech reflected his cultured background. He was born on May 27, 1911, in St. Louis, one of four children of the former Marguerite Cobb Wilcox and Vincent Leonard Price, the president of a candy-manufacturing company. He attended private schools in St. Louis, made the grand tour of Europe’s museums as a teen-ager and earned degrees in art history at Yale and the University of London, where he became hooked on the theater and resolved to be an actor.

‘He soon won praise on the London stage as Prince Albert in the play Victoria Regina. He repeated the role opposite Helen Hayes in an 18-month run on Broadway and on tour and honed his craft in summer stock and on Broadway, where he emerged as a first-rate villain in the role of a maniacal husband in Angel Street in 1941.

‘Among his almost 200 movies were The Song of Bernadette, Wilson, Leave Her to Heaven, Moss Rose, The Baron of Arizona, The Tingler, The Conquerer Worm and The Abominable Dr. Phibes. His personal film favorites included the 1973 Theater of Blood, in which he played a deranged actor who gleefully kills drama critics in ways inspired by Shakespeare; the 1987 Whales of August in which he appeared as a Russian nobleman charming two elderly sisters (Bette Davis and Lillian Gish), and Edward Scissorhands in 1990, which found him cast as the bizarre inventor of the film’s surreal title character.

‘The irrepressible Mr. Price also did a monologue for Michael Jackson’s 1983 hit video “Thriller” and performed an eight-year stint as the host of the Mystery series on public television. For decades, he enlivened commercials for sponsors as disparate as Burger King and the United States Treasury.

‘On the stage, he portrayed the dying Oscar Wilde in John Gay’s one-man play Diversions and Delights in a tour of more than 200 cities from 1977 to 1982. Reviewers hailed the portrait as a delicate and compelling tour de force.

‘What matters eventually is the sum total of one’s career, Mr. Price observed in 1986. “People remember you as someone who is working for their pleasure. A man came up to me and said, ‘Thank you for all the nice times you’ve given me.’ That’s really what it’s all about.”‘ — Peter B. Flint

 

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Stills






























































 

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Further

Vincent Price @ IMDb
Vincent Price Official Website
THE VINCENT PRICE LONDON LEGACY TOUR
COOKING WITH VINCENT
‘104 Reasons to Love Vincent Price on His 104th Birthday’
The Vincent Price Art Museum
Vincent Price Fan Site
‘Help get Vincent Price on a US postage stamp!
Eating Vincent Price
‘That time Yvonne Craig ran over Vincent Price with the Batgirlcycle’
Vincent Price @ Twitter
Vincent Price Fan Blog
Vincent Price Blogathon
The Vincent Price Papers @ Library of Congress
Vincent Price Legacy

 

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Extras


Vincent Price – His Childhood Home, Candy Factory, Grave and MORE


An Evening with Edgar Allan Poe – Starring Vincent Price


The Vincent Price Collection of Fine Art


Vincent Price by John Waters


Vincent Price On Racism And Religious Prejudice

 

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Interview

 

PAUL KARLSTROM: Smithsonian Institution, an interview with Vincent Price on August 6, 1992, at his home in the Hollywood Hills—I guess this area is called—up at the top of Doheny, in a home that’s literally covered with art objects.

VINCENT PRICE: I have one thing that I would like to say. In the last year, 1991, I was given by the Los Angeles Film Critics Association a career achievement award, and I really didn’t think that I deserved it on the basis of my films, and I was wondering if they did? You know, because films do change in their appreciation. There are films that become classics that weren’t classics when they were made, and half of this award was given to me because of my involvement with the arts, the other arts.

PAUL KARLSTROM: And was this stated as such?

VINCENT PRICE: Yes. Very much so.

PAUL KARLSTROM: I see. Well, then that’s good. There was recognition of that side of your contribution.

VINCENT PRICE: It’s an area of my life which I didn’t really know that people knew about as much.

PAUL KARLSTROM: Who first contacted you regarding the Archives? Who invited you to. . . .

VINCENT PRICE: I was flying back to Ne
w York every weekend while doing films out here in the West Coast. . . .

PAUL KARLSTROM: You were living there or here?

VINCENT PRICE: I was living in Los Angeles, but I’d fly back every weekend to do a show that was called The $64,000 Challenge.

PAUL KARLSTROM: Oh, yeah, I remember that.

VINCENT PRICE: And it was Edward G. Robinson and Billy [Pierson, Pearson], the jockey, and myself with the contestants, and it was all on art. And when they asked me if I would do it. . . . I had a game that I used to play which was highly publicized, that I could take any volume on art with reproductions and almost identify a hundred percent what the things were—with certain exceptions, like Oriental art and so forth. You know, different things that were not in my particular ken. And this was publicized at one time, and so when The $64,000 Challenge became a very popular show, they asked me to be on it with Billy [Pierson, Pearson], who had won The $64,000 Question, which was another program. So I went back on the condition. . . . I made the condition that I could talk about American art, about the [deposits] of American art, about the need for study of American art, which now was being done with the Archives. And when I was back there one weekend, Ted Richardson. . . . Edgar was his name?

PAUL KARLSTROM: E. P., Edgar Preston Richardson.

VINCENT PRICE: Edgar Preston Richardson, who I knew slightly, because he was at the Detroit Art Institute, which is my sort of family home. I’m actually from St. Louis, but my mother’s family are from Detroit. And he and Larry Fleischman asked me to have breakfast with them one morning in New York, and asked me to be on this committee. And they as much as admitted that they wanted me there to get them publicity. And I was just going to be on Person to Person, which was really the show of America at that time, and also I was still on the $64,000 thing so I could talk about. . .

PAUL KARLSTROM: So you were pretty visible.

VINCENT PRICE: I was pretty visible at that particular time, because that was the biggest television show ever in the history of the business. So that’s how it began. Because I was fascinated. I had tried to do a little research on certain painters—Missouri painters particularly—and had found it very difficult to do because there was no center for it.

PAUL KARLSTROM: That’s right.

VINCENT PRICE: And this is what Ted Richardson, who had just written this very fine book on American art, told me—that it would take him like a year to find something out about an artist, because the artist’s wife, when the artist had died, had left it to the local library, who never unwrapped it.

PAUL KARLSTROM: Nobody knew it was there.

VINCENT PRICE: Nobody knew where anything was. This is the kind of thing that I think [was] needed at the time desperately. I don’t think people realize now, fifty years later, or thirty, forty years later, how little was known about American art, how little was understood. I remember, just to divert a minute, being invited to go to Canada at that time for the first American art show ever put together in Canada, in Vancouver. I couldn’t believe it, but there had been no interest in American art. People just didn’t know. And I sort of appointed myself a voice for the propagation and to arouse interest in American art because I’m terribly American.

PAUL KARLSTROM: Well, “terribly” maybe isn’t the right word.

VINCENT PRICE: Misnomer. I really am violently American.

PAUL KARLSTROM: Is it true you actually majored in art history at Yale?

VINCENT PRICE: Yeah. And I taught school for a year, and then I went to the University of London and went into the Courtauld—the second, I think it was the third year of the Courtauld—and that was a great experience, because Hitler was driving out all the great art historians, who were all being brought to London, so it was really a mecca. But then I went into the theater when I was in London. [chuckling] But the inoculation [indoctrination] of art at Yale and the Courtauld really set my life’s pattern. And I’ve probably kept up more study in the history of art than most people who are in it professionally. Because I’m not a professional at it. I’m an amateur—in the French sense of the word, a lover.

PAUL KARLSTROM: But you consider yourself violently American.

VINCENT PRICE: I’m really proud of being an American, and I’m fascinated with America. I’m not fascinated with America at this moment. I’m disenchanted a bit, which is very wrong for me, because I don’t like being disenchanted with my country. And what’s happening to the arts is. . . . Once again, if I were younger and healthier I would be out there proselytizing the arts again, because I do feel that I have contributed something in my association with the Indians and the Archives and the things that I did here: started a museum here. That I’ve made people aware of art where they might not have been. I was the top lecturer in America for about thirty years, and I talked about art. And every time I got on a television show with Johnny Carson, I talked about art. One time I took a picture down. He said, “You love modern art and nobody understands it. Bring something down and explain it.” So I took a Jackson Pollock that I had bought, took it down with me, and the criticisms that were heaped upon this poor painting were unbelievable. And it was great fun over the years. He’d always ask me, “Now how much is it worth now?” And it went from being worth two hundred dollars to being worth almost a million.

PAUL KARLSTROM: So this was rather early on with the Johnny Carson show?

VINCENT PRICE: Oh yes, very beginning of it.

PAUL KARLSTROM: You weren’t majoring in theater at Yale, although Yale now has a distinguished program.

VINCENT PRICE: Yeah.

PAUL KARLSTROM: How did that come about?

VINCENT PRICE: Well, I tried out for the [dramat, Dramat], but I didn’t like it. Yale at that time was turning out not actors but technical people and playwrights, and some very fine people. But I wanted if anything to go into the acting thing. And after I graduated from Yale, I taught school for a year, at Riverdale Country School outside New York City, and so I had the inoculation [indoctrination] of theater in New York, because I could go in for very little money and see all the plays. And then I went to the Courtauld in London and there I fell in love with the theater, and that was that.

PAUL KARLSTROM: Well, how did that come about? You went to London to study art history, presumably. That’s why one goes to the Courtauld.

VINCENT PRICE: Yeah.

PAUL KARLSTROM: And you mentioned when we were talking the other day that it was an ideal time because of the number of distinguished, primarily German, art historians who were coming either to this country or to London.

VINCENT PRICE: Yes.

PAUL KARLSTROM: So what then deflected you from the study of art and art history when you were in London towards this other area, which then turned into your career?

VINCENT PRICE: The British theater. That’s all you need. It was wonderful. I met all the stars. They were very friendly and very interested in my thing at the Courtauld, because it was new at that time. And people like John Gielgud were very considerate of my ambition to be in the theater.

PAUL KARLSTROM: Oh, is that right? So how did you. . . .

VINCENT PRICE: Well, I just met them, you know, because I was at the Courtauld, and in England the actor knows everything that’s going on in the arts. It’s very different than it is here—or was, actually. I think it’s a little better now, but. . . . The English actor knows about set design, knows about art, knows what’s going on, knows all the painters. If you enter into that world at all—and being at the Courtau
ld was enough to enter me into that world—I met everybody. I was not an unattractive fellow, and so they accepted me. And then I got a job playing the Prince Consort in a play called Victoria Regina by Lawrence Housman. And this just came about in the funny little theater called The Gate. And I tried out for the part. And my first job at The Gate was a part of a Chicago policeman, with no lines.

PAUL KARLSTROM: But you looked the part presumably.

VINCENT PRICE: I looked the part of the Prince Consort, and I’d been to Germany quite a lot in Austria. And everybody in Germany wanted to learn to speak English, so that they all tried their broken English on me, so I ended up with a German accent, which fit Prince Albert very well. And that was a tremendous success in this funny little theater that only held a hundred and fifty people.

PAUL KARLSTROM: And you were with the production the whole time?

VINCENT PRICE: No, I was with it the whole time in London, and the whole time in New York, but then I didn’t go on the road with it, because Miss Hayes felt that I needed to really get out and have some experience in the theater. So I did a lot of summer stock and then went into New York and did one flop after another and then joined Orson Welles in the Mercury Theater, and that was a very exciting experiment.

PAUL KARLSTROM: Can you tell me a little bit about that?

VINCENT PRICE: Oh, yeah.

PAUL KARLSTROM: I’m sure others would be interested to hear as well.

VINCENT PRICE: Well, Orson had done a couple of plays for the WPA, mainly Horse Eats Hat and the wonderful production of Macbeth that was done in Harlem. The black Macbeth was really a wonderful, wonderful, exciting play. And Orson opened a theater called The Mercury in which he did a play, a modern version of Julius Caesar. And then it was so exciting that everybody wanted to be part of it, and the next play they were going to do was a play by [Thomas—Ed.] Dekker, who was an Elizabethan playwright that wrote a play called Shoemaker’s Holiday. And Orson asked me to be in that, and to sign a contract with him to do that and Heartbreak House by [George Bernard] Shaw and a couple of other plays. So I joined, and it was really one of the exciting times in the American theater because there was The Group Theater doing the modern plays of . . . oh, all the modern playwrights.

PAUL KARLSTROM: Was Eugene O’Neill. . . .

VINCENT PRICE: And contemporary with that, too, but. . . .

PAUL KARLSTROM: What about [Clifford] Odets?

VINCENT PRICE: Yes, Odets, Clifford, most definitely.

PAUL KARLSTROM: So you knew him personally?

VINCENT PRICE: Oh, yes, very well. And we did those two plays, and then Mercury Theater was really established and doing and. . . . It didn’t go very long because Orson was a very undisciplined fellow, unfortunately—a genius but very undisciplined.

PAUL KARLSTROM: Now this was before his time in Hollywood.

VINCENT PRICE: Oh, yes. This was the theater. It was before the radio thing too. But I was with that, and then I came out to Hollywood to do a couple of movies.

 

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28 of Vincent Price’s 199 films

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Tim Burton Edward Scissorhands (1990)
‘I knew Vincent Price from films – he was a big movie star – but the first time I met him was when we filmed The Oblong Box. In this picture we were pretending to play chess for a publicity photograph for the film. I don’t play chess and I’m not sure that he did but we had to pretend and found it very amusing. Vincent had a brilliant sense of humour. While we were filming one scene I was lying on the floor, dying – I think I’d had my throat cut – and he was wearing this big voluminous cape. He had to kneel down and ask me something along the lines of ‘Who did this to you?’, which didn’t make sense because I would not be able to talk if I’d had my throat slit. All I can remember is him saying to me under his breath, very slowly, ‘You are lying on my train.’ I’ve worked with Tim Burton five times and it’s just like being part of a family; life doesn’t get much better than that. Vincent also worked with Tim – he was one of Tim’s heroes (Tim made a film about him in 1982 called Vincent). Later [in 1990] Vincent played the inventor in Tim’s film Edward Scissorhands who dies before he can give his creation proper hands. Vincent died a few years after the film was released – the world lost a great actor and I lost a dear friend.’ — Christopher Lee


Excerpt


Excerpt

 

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Dennis Hopper Catchfire (1990)
‘Despite the shameless overacting by almost the entire cast, and, despite the “chop shop” editing of the DVD, and, despite the two famous actors (Charlie Sheen, Joe Pesci) who yanked their names from the credits, and, despite the randomness and somewhat unbelievability of the script, and, despite the movie’s tendency to vacillate wildly between genuine tension, dark humor, titillating nudity, and cartoonish situations, in spite of all these potential faults, “Catchfire” (aka “Backtrack”) is very watchable. It has fantastic on location photography, that only adds to the enjoyment of a somewhat flawed, nevertheless intriguing, and ultimately entertaining movie.’ — MERK


Trailer

Watch the film here

 

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Jeff Burr From a Whisper to a Scream (1987)
‘Released in 1987, From a Whisper to a Scream (also known as The Offspring) has the distinct honor of being iconic actor Vincent Price’s last role in a horror film, which alone makes it a piece of genuine horror history. Price plays historian Julian White in the film. On the night his niece is executed for committing a string of brutal killings, White reveals the sinister secrets of her hometown, Oldfield, Tennessee, a horrific hamlet that spawns evil. But as the town’s murderous legacy is exposed with White’s chilling accounts – including stories of a necrophilic madman, a voodoo priest with life-prolonging powers and a legion of children with an appetite for flesh – White doesn’t realize that he is about the write the final chapter of Oldfield’s morbid history…in his own blood!’ — Dread Central


Trailer

 

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Ray Cameron Bloodbath at the House of Death (1984)
‘Kenny Everett was a zany comic who started out as a DJ in the 1960s before fronting a prime time TV comedy show in the 1980s. This 1984 film is his only attempt at a big screen offering. Kenny died of AIDS-related illness in 1995, aged 50. The film is a Hammer horror spoof, though many other films and genres are spoofed along the way. It is written by Barry Cryer, who appears in the title sequence. Eight scientists (including Kenny and, more plausibly, Dr Pamela Stephenson) investigate an old house where, 18 years earlier, 18 people were killed there in one night. The others are played by John Fortune, Sheila Steafel, Don (Rising Damp) Warrington, Gareth (coffee ads) Hunt, Cleo Rocos and John Stephen Hill. All were well known 80s British personalities but not entirely convincing as scientists! The best known actor here is Vincent Price, though he only appears in a few scenes, as the ‘sinister man’. Pat Ashton’s appearance as the murdered barmaid marked her last appearance in a run of 20 years of British comedy shows before she disappeared, which is a shame as she was always good fun. It pretty much also marked the end of John Stephen Hill’s acting career though he is better mapped as he went on to immerse himself in his Jesuit faith.’ — David Love


Trailer

the entire film

 

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Pete Walker House of the Long Shadows (1983)
‘The forgotten 1983 effort of Pete Walker (director of Frightmare and House of Whipcord, among others) promises horrific treasures with its tagline: “Room for every nightmare…A nightmare in every room.” The gorgeous poster art is equally promising, giving us great hope for a long overdue horror ensemble cast of film legends John Carradine, Christopher Lee, Peter Cushing, and Vincent Price – with iconic acting firepower like that, the film is positively dripping with potential. Lee, Cushing, and Price together on screen together – how could anyone possibly take these exquisite ingredients, and manage to over bake our delectable horror cake? Well, it’s actually very easy: just add Desi Arnaz Junior to the recipe as the film’s lead. Good grief, true believers.’ — Rare Horror


the entire film

 

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Tim Burton Vincent (1982)
Vincent, a short film narrated by Vincent Price, is a pastiche of styles lifted from the writings of Dr. Seuss and Edgar Allen Poe, and a range of movies from B-horror films, German expressionist works and the films of Vincent Price. One could even argue that the techniques used represent a pastiche of 2D and 3D animation methods, particularly UPA’s limited animation style. And though Hutcheon does not discuss the relation of parody to the development of the artist, it seems likely that pastiche is one strategy that maturing artist frequently use to legitimize their own work: it is often easier to mimic a style than to establish one’s own. Burton was 24 when he made Vincent, so mirroring other texts may have freed him from serious consideration of his own style while focusing his directorial efforts on other matters.’ — Michael Frierson


the entire film

 

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Roy Ward Baker The Monster Club (1980)
‘This attempt by Milton Subotsky at resuscitating the horror anthology formula that he started back in 1965 with Dr Terrors House of Horrors, but in a semi-comic vein, proved a disappointment on its release and was the final film from his Amicus outfit. But the film has since attracted a cult following. Vincent Price appears in the framing device as a vampire who inducts John Carradine’s horror writer Chetwynd-Hayes into a club for monsters, and it’s these scenes where the film is at its weakest – mainly due to the cheap make-up effects used for the club’s denizens and an embarrassing final dance scene. But there are some stand-out moments, namely Kellerman’s grisly demise, the fog-shrouded town that Whitman tries to escape from, and Price’s big speech in which he declares that man is the biggest monster of them all.’ — Kultguy’s Keep


Trailer


the entire film

 

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Jorn H. Winther Alice Cooper: The Nightmare (1975)
‘Vincent Price was cast for the part of the ‘Spirit of the Nightmare’, and when shooting commenced in Toronto, he proved to be a most willing collaborator in pushing Cooper’s macabre vision of a kid trapped in a nightmare from which he cannot escape to the American public. “At one point he had me on a leash – I was the kid he was showing around – and he’d ask things like, ‘Should I be really aggressive?’ I told him he shouldn’t be afraid to jerk me around. We worked very well together.”‘ — Paul Brannigan


Excerpt

 

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Jim Clark Madhouse (1974)
‘During the 1960s and early 70s, American horror was arguably synonymous with two names: Vincent Price and American International Pictures. Starring in a slew of horror films for AIP (most notably the Roger Corman produced Poe adaptations), Price would go on to become veritable legend in the field of horror. Of course, AIP’s British counterpart at this time was Hammer Productions, spearheaded most notably by Peter Cushing and Christopher Lee. However, by 1974, Hammer’s dominance over the horror world had begun to wane due to the company’s increasing financial woes. This left Amicus Productions (many of which prominently featured Hammer alum Peter Cushing) to fill the void, and 1974’s Madhouse represented a strange convergence of this era of horror. A co-production between Amicus and AIP featuring Price, Cushing, Robert Quarry, and even Boris Karloff (in archive footage), the film would end up being the last that Price would make for AIP; it also would hang on the precipice of the new era of horror that would be unleashed by The Exorcist, which would result in the B-movie features of the 60s and 70s falling out of favor with audiences.’ — Oh the Horror


Excerpt


Behind the scenes

 

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Douglas Hickox Theater of Blood (1973)
‘Douglas Hickox manages neatly in his direction to catch the spirit of a demented Shakespearean actor’s (Vincent Price) revenge on eight members of the London Critics’ Circle who he believes denied him a Best Actor of the Year award. Situation [from an idea by producers Stanley Mann and John Kohn] allows for some good old-fashioned suspense and high comedy, such as the sequence in which Price saws off the head of one critic while his spouse, needled into unconsciousness, sleeps beside him. Price uses gory Shakespeare-inspired deaths to systematically murder each of the offending critics. Price delivers with his usual enthusiasm and Diana Rigg is good as his daughter. Ian Hendry heads the list of critics, and Diana Dors is in briefly as Jack Hawkins’ wife whom he smothers to death in a moment of jealousy.’ — Variety


Trailer

the entire film

 

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Robert Fuest The Abominable Dr. Phibes (1971)
‘When a movie’s tagline reads “Love means never having to say you’re ugly”, you know you’re in for something out there. I know it’s nothing new for me to say, but Dr. Phibes is a really weird movie. As in, it’s weird by my standards. They included the original trailer for the film on the DVD and it shows that the film (and its sequel) were marketed as horror movies. The problem is that when you watch this, you don’t know if you’re supposed to laugh or look deep within and analyze what is going on in front of you. Someone would say that Dr. Phibes is very symbolic. Other people, the kind that create goofy websites where they review terrible old movies, would tell you that Dr. Phibes is about a guy who gets horribly disfigured in a car crash and starts murdering the people who were indirectly responsible for his wife’s death. That’s a gross over simplification. While this article is more or less here to list the murders of Dr. Phibes, a little explanation of the strangeness is indeed required. Vincent Price dresses up like an elderly Captain Kangaroo and can only talk by plugging his neck into a phonograph. He’s got a hole on the other side of his neck…this one’s for eating and drinking. If you ever wanted to see a film where Vincent Price drinks wine through a hole in his neck, congratulations. You’ve found what you’ve been looking for.’ — Head Injury Theater


Trailer


the entire film

 

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Gordon Hessler Cry of the Banshee (1970)
‘Although there’s a fair amount of blood and a good four sets of boobs, Cry of the Banshee doesn’t manage to be quite as entertaining as its fellow bloodless AIP films, before and after. Gordon Hessler shows great skill in his direction, but the script just isn’t as tight and fun as other efforts. Rather than being witty and having twists and turns in the plots, Cry of the Banshee is more straight forward and really doesn’t have too many shocks until the ending. The deliciously evil quotes usually spewing from the mouth of Price just aren’t there, in this film his actions speak for themselves as he shows no remorse with anyone’s life but his own. That trait is no stranger to anyone who follows AIP, but a murderous tyrant just isn’t as interesting as a madman or a tortured soul out for revenge. On the bright side, it’s a lot of fun watching the diabolical Lord Whitman squirm when he has to face the demon out to get him.’ — Oh the Horror


Trailer

Watch the film here

 

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Gordon Hessler Scream and Scream Again (1970)
‘This movie paints itself as a thriller, but it’s a science fiction film in disguise. It has elements of political intrigue, police procedure, weirdo medical horror, and vampires, but doesn’t really do any of them very well. Vincent Price ushers in the weirdo medical horror bit, as he plays a weirdo medical doctor using a weirdo medical experiment to create supermen to Take Over the World ™. Of course, he has altruistic delusions for his stupid experiments, but the backstory to all this is never told. In fact, the explanations found in this paragraph are not given until the final ten minutes of the film, which makes the whole thing pretty confusing.’ — Falcon Movies


Trailer and three scenes

 

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Gordon Hessler The Oblong Box (1969)
‘Price is sort of the hero (he lets his brother get fucked up for something he did, but otherwise he’s a good guy), but he still gets to engage in some devilish behavior and display some of his trademark smarm. I particularly enjoyed the scene where he blackmails the family lawyer into finding a suitable body to use for his brother’s wake, so no one would have to see his disfigurement. The lawyer protests at first, saying he’s no criminal, to which Price instantly retorts: “You’re a forger and embezzler, and now you’re a grave robber.” Hahaha, awesome. Lee is also sort of a flawed hero more than an outright villain – his experiments seem to be for good purposes, and while he never turns in his “guest” despite his crimes, he doesn’t condone or assist him either.’ — Horror Movie a Day


the entire film

 

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Michael Reeves The Conqueror Worm (1968)
‘Produced by the British Tigon organisation, the film keenly exploited the commercially successful costume horrors from Hammer in the UK and Roger Corman in the US. Nevertheless the film has a broodingly sinister atmosphere, with Vincent Price playing the historical figure Matthew Hopkins, who traveled the country executing supposed witches under the powers given to him by the Roundhead parliament during the Civil War. The Conqueror Worm is one of the few films directed by Michael Reeves in his awfully brief career. As a child he started making short films featuring his school friend Ian Ogilvy. His first professional work was as an associate director on The Long Ships (1964), and then as second-unit director on Castle Of The Living Dead (1964), taking over as director mid-production. When he got The She-Beast (1966) right to everyone’s amazement, he was entrusted with bigger budgets and made better films. In 1967 he directed and co-wrote The Sorcerers (1967), giving Boris Karloff a major role in one of the few films worthy of his talent. Reeves even refused to allow my old friend Vincent Price to overact in The Conqueror Worm. Annoyed, Vincent snapped “Young man, I have made eighty-four films. What have you done?”, to which Reeves replied “I’ve made two good films.” All was forgiven when Vincent saw the end product. Alas, on the 11th of February 1969, whilst working on The Oblong Box (1969), Michael Reeves passed away aged just twenty-five, when he unwittingly combined alcohol and sleeping pills.’ — HNN


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Mario Bava Dr. Goldfoot & The Girl Bombs (1966)
‘While watching this film, one is faced with many question, chief among them being: why would Bava, the master of morbid horror, have been assigned to direct this sophomoric comedy, and why should he have accepted? Bava was a working director. He took the film to fulfill contractural obligations and to put food on the table. Not everybody has the luxury of being able to make the films they want to make. So much for excuses: as a comedy, it’s is unfunny, and as a film it is, quite literally, a mess. The lighting is flat and functional, the use of accelerated motion is, even by 1966 standards, terribly out-dated, and the performances range from the somnabulistic to the downright awful. Vincent Price occassionally manages to get a chuckle out of his lame dialogue, but this sort of material is quite beneath his talents. All told, this film represents an all-time low for both Price and Bava.’ — Mario Bava Reviews


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Norman Taurog Dr. Goldfoot and the Bikini Machine (1965)
‘The great Vincent Price obviously had fun with his characterization of Dr. Goldfoot in this campy spy spoof directed by Norman Taurog. With his henchman Igor (Jack Mullaney), the demented doctor builds a machine that mass-produces an army bikini-clad babes. Goldfoot programs his vixens to seduce the wealthiest men alive and convince them to sign their fortunes over to him – thus enabling the fiendish doctor to amass tremendous wealth and take over the world. Frankie Avalon co-stars as Secret Agent Craig Gamble, who sets out to destroy the women and bring Goldfoot’s plan to a screeching halt. Annette Funicello and Harvey Lembeck provide cameo appearances. Strictly for fans who loved those 1960s drive-in quickies.’ — RT


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Roger Corman The Masque of the Red Death (1964)
‘Monster movies, beach movies, biker movies – if you wanted it done fast and on the cheap with elements that looked great on a poster, Roger Corman was your man. But while the vast majority of his producing output would fall under the heading of “hypnotically entertaining junk,” Corman found the time to direct eight Poe adaptations in the early 1960s, movies that reveal him as a filmmaker possessed of considerable ability and visual flair. They’re a window into the career he might have had if he weren’t so darn fond of making gobs of money as efficiently as possible. Corman always liked Masque and originally intended to adapt it hot on the heels of his first Poe film, House of Usher. He hesitated in part because he was nervous about the comparisons invited by portraying death as a hooded figure immediately in the wake of Ingmar Bergman’s iconic The Seventh Seal. Vincent Price plays Prince Prospero (alliteration is always awesome!) because that was practically the law when Roger Corman filmed Poe; he’s in seven of the eight films in the cycle. Price shows why he’s one of the great icons of horror cinema, commanding your attention every second he’s on screen, savoring every line reading, and somehow managing to infuse a truly horrible character who engages in kidnap and murder like he’s going to Starbucks with a genuine pathos.’ — word & film


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Ubaldo Ragona The Last Man on Earth (1964)
‘Finished in 1961, but not released in the US until 1964, The Last Man On Earth appears, at first glance, to be just as flawed as the two adaptations that followed it, largely because of its poverty stricken budget. But compared to the dated Omega Man, which imagined Matheson’s vampires as a spooky albino cult, or I Am Legend, which squandered its promising build-up with a botched ending and unconvincing creature effects, this early version of the book holds up extremely well. Like the book, The Last Man On Earth is set in a post-apocalyptic world in which humanity has been almost entirely destroyed by plague. Infected victims have been transformed into shuffling, zombie-like creatures with a lust for blood, and lone survivor Robert Morgan (Price) can do nothing but scratch out an existence by day, and cower in his house by night. Shot in stark, scratchy black and white, the film slowly relates the minutiae of Morgan’s dull existence, disposing of bodies, hanging up wreathes of garlic, or grouchily fashioning wooden stakes on a lathe. “They’re perfect. Just wide enough to keep the flesh apart so their body seal can’t function,” Price intones with lip smacking relish. “But how many more of these will I have to make before they’re all destroyed?”‘ — Den of Geek


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Roger Corman Tower of London (1962)
‘Though Tower of London is no masterpiece, it’s still an enjoyable Grand Guignol, thanks to Vincent Price’s flamboyantly villainous performance and the atmospheric cinematography which favors dank corridors and secret passageways lined with cobwebs. Most interesting is the fact that Price also appeared in the 1939 version of Tower of London but as a victim – the ill-fated Duke of Clarence. Another fun trivia tidbit: Price had originally committed to starring in an adaptation of Poe’s The Gold Bug but began work instead on Tower of London when the former project died in “development hell.” It was also directly after starring in Tower of London that Price began his long and successful partnership with the Sears Roebuck and Company chain, buying inexpensive European art for their American stores.’ — TCM


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Roger Corman Tales of Terror (1962)
‘Three stories adapted from the work of Edgar Allen Poe. A man and his daughter are reunited, but the blame for the death of his wife hangs over them, unresolved. A derelict challenges the local wine-tasting champion to a competition, but finds the man’s attention to his wife worthy of more dramatic action. A man dying and in great pain agrees to be hypnotized at the moment of death, with unexpected consequences…’ — collaged


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Albert Zugsmith Confessions of an Opium Eater (1962)
‘The movie is a coveted title for fans of actor Vincent Price, at that time contracted with American-International Pictures to appear in highly successful gothic horror movies. With his imposing good looks and a cultured voice capable of making the worst dialogue read like Shakespearian prose, Price was highly sought as a new icon of horror villainy. Some incidental evidence indicates that Confessions may have been considered for release by A.I.P., but it is likely that moguls Arkoff & Nicholson would find it too arcane, too adult and too tame to be one of their youth-oriented matinee chillers. Nevertheless, plenty of kids saw it in Allied Artists matinees, and probably couldn’t make head or tails of it. But Confessions had Vincent Price, and in 1962 Vincent Price was a guarantee of kid interest. Confessions of an Opium Eater is bizarre with a capital “B”, a movie that got released even with its drug-related subject matter named in the title — which for a subsequent re-issue was changed to Souls for Sale.’ — DVD Talk


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Roger Corman The Pit and the Pendulum (1961)
‘Following The Fall of the House of Usher, this was the second of Roger Corman’s gothic movies loosely based on Edgar Allan Poe tales and produced by the low-budget exploitation studio American International. Both starred the larger-than-life barnstorming aesthete Vincent Price and had literate scripts (the work of pulp writer Richard Matheson, author of Spielberg’s Duel), handsome sets (production designer Daniel Haller) and widescreen colour photography (veteran Floyd Crosby, who’d won an Oscar in 1931 for Murnau’s Tabu). Their style and opulence belie the modest budgets and shooting schedules (in this case, $300,000 and 15 days). Received with grudging respect by the press, Time magazine called it “Edgar Allan poetic”, while Hollywood Reporter wrote of “a class suspense-horror film of the calibre of the excellent ones done by Hammer”.’ — The
Guardian


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Roger Corman House of Usher (1960)
‘Price dominates an otherwise indifferently acted film as Roderick Usher, the mad, hypersensitive, last surviving male member of a cursed, degenerate family, who harbours incestuous desires towards his cataleptic sister, with whom he lives in a creepy New England mansion that itself is possessed by an evil spirit which contaminates the immediate, mistbound area. The movie, shot in CinemaScope and colour, is punctuated by shocking moments, but is more notable for its claustrophobic, doom-laden, necrophilic atmosphere and elegant camerawork than the kind of fashionable, in-your-face horror that was launched in the same year by Psycho.’ — The Guardian


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William Castle The Tingler (1959)
‘I am William Castle, the director of the motion picture you are about to see. I feel obligated to warn you that some of the sensations— some of the physical reactions which the actors on the screen will feel— will also be experienced, for the first time in motion picture history, by certain members of this audience. I say ‘certain members’ because some people are more sensitive to these mysterious electronic impulses than others. These unfortunate, sensitive people will at times feel a strange, tingling sensation; other people will feel it less strongly. But don’t be alarmed— you can protect yourself. At any time you are conscious of a tingling sensation, you may obtain immediate relief by screaming. Don’t be embarrassed about opening your mouth and letting rip with all you’ve got, because the person in the seat right next to you will probably be screaming too. And remember— a scream at the right time may save your life.’ — William Castle


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William Castle House on Haunted Hill (1959)
‘As unfashionable as it may be to say so, none of William Castle’s horror movies lives up to the promise of his early noirs, such as The Whistler and its sequels and When Strangers Marry. But if one had to pick the best of the campy horror films that made his reputation, this 1958 feature would probably be it, with or without its promotional gimmick of “Emergo” (an illuminated skeleton flying over the heads of the audience). Vincent Price plays a wealthy man who offers a group of people $10,000 to spend a night in his haunted mansion; Robb White wrote the script, and the costars include Richard Long, Carol Ohmart, and the ever reliable Elisha Cook Jr.’ — Jonathan Rosenbaum


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Kurt Neumann The Fly (1958)
‘Slightly above average 50s science fiction (1958), enlivened by a nearly literate script by James Clavell (Shogun). Al Hedison (before he changed his name to David and became a TV star) is a scientist meddling with a strange theory of molecular exchange; he discovers, once again, that there are things-that-man-was-not-meant-to-know when he accidentally trades heads with a fly. With Vincent Price, Herbert Marshall, and Kathleen Freeman; directed by Kurt Neumann in ‘Scope.’ — Chicago Reader


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André De Toth House of Wax (1953)
‘In the original trailer for House of Wax (1953), Warner Brothers heralded the third dimension as “the new wonder of the entertainment world”. Though that wonder had been discovered a year earlier in Bwana Devil (1952), Warner Brothers explored immersion further by releasing a colour 3D feature that incorporated stereo sound for the first time. So not only did action spring from the screen, but sound effects were also heard in different sections of the cinema, heightening tension and drama through the illusion of multi-directional audio.’ — acmi

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*

p.s. Hey. ** Nika Mavrody, Who does? Oh, wait, I guess tons of people do. Never mind. ** Diesel Clementine, Hi. You have a nice name, needless to say. Welcome! I guess I’m interested in niche perfumes in concept and in  execution, but I don’t really follow them, although, now that you bring them up and characterise them so enticingly, I think I’ll change my ways. I can certainly see a blog post in the genre’s future if nothing else. There’s a shop here in the Marais whose whole concentration is daring, ambitious, ‘ugly’ perfumes. Oh wait, it’s the physical manifestation of that site (Etat Libre d’Orange) you mentioned. Huh. If you were here, you could stroll in and smell all of those smells in tester form. Anyway, long story short, I don’t know much about that genre but think maybe I will. I walk by that shop I mentioned every few days. Thanks. Lovely conversing with you. Let’s do it more. ** Joe, Hey, hey, Joe! Wow, ‘Cockfighter’, yes, I did see it, but not since the … 70s (?) or whenever it originally got born. I liked it, for sure. I like Hellman’s films. And Warren Oates too. A man’s man, that guy. I should do a Hellman Day if I haven’t already.  I like Willeford. I don’t think I’ve read that one though. Oh, I’ll look for your email, sorry. I’m so bad with email, it’s terrible. I’ll find it and get back to you asap. Thanks! ** Tosh Berman, Cool, victoire! Hm, paragraph length pieces about my celeb meetings is kind of a great idea. Let me try. You should do that too, though I suspect your meetings will take more than a paragraph to nail properly. Yes, the Johnny Hallyday meet was way up there. Thanks, Tosh. ** Steve, So great you got to see ‘Tamala’! So good, right? Very singular. There aren’t really sequels, just kind of extensions and riffs off the original, and I think I’ve seen them? Pray tell on the film series idea when it’s time. Everyone, Here’s good old Steve: ‘For Slant Magazine, I reviewed country singer Sturgill Simpson’s PASSAGE DU DESIR, released under his new alter ego Johnny Blue Skies here. ** Sypha, I would have figured you knew Mr. Rops’s body of work. There are a shit ton of Redon paintings in the museums here if you ever get over to Paris. ** PL, Hi. I’m happy you liked the Rops. What do you mean by ‘background art’? I’m not sure I totally understand. ** David Ehrenstein, Hello, sir! Lucky you on the poster, and thank you for the Duval backgrounding. She was so great, it’s so sad. That’s fascinating about Janice Rule. Huh. I remember she was fairly prominent for a long time, and then I stopped seeing her, and there’s the reason. Interesting. ‘Tree Women’ could also be a Malick film? Ha ha. ** Dominik, Hi!!! Happy that the post accidentally put two and two together. Eproctophilia: that is good to know. News to me too. It makes fart smelling sound so … classical. I have it on high authority that love doesn’t need another BJD, and love’s authority is the highest of all, one could argue, so I’m hoping he’s in the clear. Love making the shops here not give their checkers Sundays off and force customers to only be able to use the automatic checkout option because I am a total klutz at automatic checkout, and I apologise to the checkers for wishing to ruin their weekends, G. ** _Black_Acrylic, No, avoid the ‘no oven’ Krispy Kremes because you’ll just go, What’s the big deal?! Ooh, I want an intense sugar rush. I need one. Maybe chocolate fudge. That should do it. ** Lucas, Hi! Oh, sure. It’s even grayer and colder here today, it’s amazing. I guess the only problem is it also keeps raining, and every time it rains the Seine gets fuller of backed up sewage, and the Olympics organisers freak out since the athletes are supposed to swim and do things in that. I hope the weather where you are drops the schizo act and just cools down lengthily. Great that you started and really like ‘Pale Fire’. It’s a goody, for sure. I’m okay. This weekend … hopefully talk with Zac about the new film script, do my biweekly Zoom Book/Film Club event tonight, smoke, eat, and open my eyes for additional activities. Enjoy Cologne. What did you do there that stands out? xo, me. ** Dev, Hi. Right, of course, there would be witchcraft/voodoo shops in New Orleans. It’s famous for such a bent. I think Dr. John is from there, and his first album ‘Gris-Gris’ was super witchy/voodoo-y. It used to scare me to death when I was on acid. Anyway, no, I don’t know Wangechi Mutu’s work, but I just did a quick google, and her works looks really interesting. I’ll delve. Thank you! Thank you very, very kindly about ‘I Wished’. I’m so happy it hit home with you. Have a really splendid and possibly even witchy weekend. ** Pascal, Hey! The blog was wild back then. Wilder. I think so. Maybe too wild at times, but, yeah, amazing. Nice: living on the coast. I’ve never been to Liverpool or that area. I really need to. I’m very happy you’re writing! I think starting a new novel is always tricky? For me anyway. What’s tricky in particular about your start? Excellent weekend to you and yours too! ** Harper, Okay air-conditioned Airbnb, you’ll be fine. You can escape inwards if need be. Cold here too, so weird. I always try to pretend flight attendants are robots, because they practically are. From the outside, I mean. Luck upon luck at the getting the blood test pre-flight. Did the first world war effectively kill off the Decadence movement? I didn’t know that. That’s fascinating. I’m going to read about that. ** Joseph, I don’t think they kidnap, they just fantasise about it, and you can see the fantasy in their eyes. Cover and backmatter! When exactly is it entering the world? Cool. Excited! I’d be curious to see ‘Tickled’. There are quite a lot of tickle slaves on the S/M sites, and I never can quite get my head around that sexual priority. There are very few tickle masters, which seems interesting. Thanks about the interview. Lucy’s the best. Very fine Saturday and even Sunday to you! ** Bill, Hi! Oh, you’re over there now, that explains it. It: your little blog break. Oh, wow, very cool about the Tetsumi Kudo show. And at Hauser & Wirth! He’s hit the big time. I’ve had his stuff in posts here, as you undoubtedly know. I’ve never seen a lick of it in person. Jeff Noon, yes. Back when I was in a period where I was obsessed with the Cyberpunk writers, I read him because he was considered adjacent to that. I remember really liking his novels ‘Vurt’ and ‘Pollen’. I don’t remember if I’ve read anything else by him. I should do a spotlight post re: ‘Vurt’. Maybe I’ll get ‘Pixel Juice’ and start catching up on him. Nice. Stay as cool as you can stay. ** nat, ‘In-joke’, interesting, in what way? ‘It is addicting to just go balls on the walls with deliriousness’: That sounds like heaven to me. What do the Germans say … ? Rausch! I’m of the firm opinion that the original, fussy, kind of archaic English translation of Sade’s works by Austryn Wainhouse is by far the best. By far! More recent attempts to kind of thin out the prose and make it seem more contemporary just robs it of its crazy genius, I think. Read the Wainhouse translation of ‘120 Days of Sodom’. That’s my suggestion. See you after the weekend is just a puff of smoke. ** tomk, Hi, Tom! Things are mostly ok. Peru in five days! Or four now maybe. Sweet! Are you going for the whole summer? I just checked and couldn’t find anywhere where ‘Hear My Cry’ is currently streaming. MUBI has it, but it’s not available at the moment. Let me give a shout. Everyone, The great writer and person Tom Kendall has a plea that maybe you can answer. Please do, if so. Tom: ‘I wanted to ask everyone a question if possible: does anyone know where I could find this film to stream or buy? It’s called ‘hear my cry’ about ‘ Ryszard Siwiec, who set himself on fire during the large harvest festival at the Warsaw stadium in 1968.’ Thanks, all! Here’s hoping. Enjoy your weekend my friend. ** Okay. I thought I would take it super easy on you guys and restore this post that allows you to spend a weekend fishing in the wares of the legendary horror-adjacent charmer who was Vincent Price. See you on Monday.

Galerie Dennis Cooper presents … Félicien Rops

 

‘There are few nineteenth century artists as controversial or as profoundly shocking as Félicien Rops. Even more than a century after his death, his “blasphemous erotica” can still cause great offense in a world of safe spaces and trigger warnings.

‘Rops was born in Namur, Belgium in 1833, the son of a wealthy cotton dealer. He was home schooled by a private tutor before attending Jesuit college where he excelled at art. However, he hated the intense Catholic education and quit college at sixteen. He then went onto finish his education at Royal Athenaeum. His talent for art flourished and he achieved some early success as a caricaturist for the student magazine Le Crocodile and local magazines. But it was as a lithographer and etcher that he proved his technical brilliance and unparalleled artistic talent. He co-founded with Charles De Coste the satirical magazine L’Uylenspiegel (1856-1863). They mercilessly attacked Church and State, the bourgeoisie and artistic pretensions. The magazine made both men (in)famous—Rops was even challenged to a duel after one particular provocative attack.

‘He married, had two children (one dying in childhood), separated from his wife and moved to Paris in 1862. His arrival in the City of Lights changed Rops dramatically—he was like a wide-eyed yokel driven to excess by the thrill of the metropolis. He began to draw and paint with a fevered intensity the world he inhabited. He exhibited some of his work back in his hometown of Namur in 1865—in particular a portrait of a female absinthe drinker (La Buveuse d’Absinthe) which so outraged critics and civic figures that he was denounced by an official rebuke for prostituting his pencil in “the reproduction of scenes imprinted with a repellent realism.” The response pleased Rops—though he described it as akin to being spat upon—as it meant he had found his right subject matter: the dark and neglected and unacknowledged underworld of everyday life. This led Rops to co-found the Société Libre des Beaux-Arts—a group set up to promote “realism” in art in 1868.

‘Another key event was his meeting with the writer Baudelaire, whose work confirmed many of Rops’ personal beliefs. He illustrated Baudelaire’s banned volume of poetry Les Fleurs du Mal and became one of the resident artists of the Decadent Movement—though he also had a place in the Symbolist camp.

‘The Decadent Movement was a loose collection of artists and writers who came to prominence in the last two decades—or fin de siècle—of the 1800s. The term Decadent was originally intended to be disparaging—but Baudelaire and Rops considered it a suitable description of their lifestyle and work. The Decadents were in revolt against the constrictive and petite bourgeoise morality of the day. But even this doesn’t quite tell the complete truth. Though Rops had rejected much of his Catholic upbringing—he had some lingering religious beliefs. He was a Freemason—and some of his work was highly anti-Catholic. Take a look at his pornographic re-imagining of the Ecstasy of Saint Teresa being “penetrated” by the lance of the seraphim. He had a fear of women but was for a time happily married and then lived in a menage a trois with two sisters. He was rational but was superstitiously obsessed with the occult—in particular the power of the Devil. He railed gainst the petite bourgeoisie and against fame but harbored a desire for success—on his own terms.

‘The novelist Péladan said of Rops in La Plume (1896):

Three hundred subtle minds admire and love him, and this approbation of thinkers is all that matters to this master; if a man of the middle classes, one of those for whom popular works are written and who actually read them, should happen to show a liking for one of his works, he would immediately destroy it. As a patrician of art, he wishes for no other judges than but his peers, and not out of pride. The best token of his modesty is the fact that he is so little known and that is how he wants it, because he knows that Art is a druidic cult which receives into its ranks all minds that rise high enough.

‘While the author JK Huysmans described Rops as:

…not confined himself, like his predecessors, to rendering the attitudes of bodies swayed by passion, but has elicited from flesh on fire the sorrows of fever-stricken souls, and the joys of warped minds; he has painted demonic rapture as other have painted mystical yearnings. Rops has not confined himself, like his predecessors, to rendering the attitudes of bodies swayed by passion, but has elicited from flesh on fir the sorrows of fever-stricken souls, and the joys of warped minds; he has painted demonic rapture as other have painted mystical yearnings.

‘Rops described his work as “structured mainly around the themes of love, suffering and death, with the central unifying theme of the woman, la femme fatale “in the full meaning of the word.” According to Rops the la femme fatale is:

‘Satan’s accomplice, [a woman who] becomes the supreme attraction which provokes the most extreme vices and torments in Man, a mere puppet.

‘This image is repeated throughout Rops work—and even when man attempts to repress his desire—as in his painting The Temptation of Saint Anthony—where (as Sigmund Freud notes) he has “placed Sin in the place of the Savior on the cross”

‘He seems to have known that when what has been repressed returns, it merges as the repressing force itself.

‘Rops’ work has been described as blasphemous, sadistic, sexist, misogynistic, pornographic, debased and even cruel—but that strikes me as responding to the effect or the surface rather than the substance of his work—which is far more complex and far more telling of Rops’ own fears and anxieties.’ — Paul Gallagher

 

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Further

Félicien Rops @ Wikipedia
The Musée Félicien Rops in Namur
Félicien Rops @ Internet Archive
BEYOND EROS: WORKS BY FÉLICIEN ROPS IN THE MICHAEL C. CARLOS MUSEUM
Book: ‘Félicien Rops: 1833 1898’
Fonds Félicien Rops
Félicien Rops: The Irreverent Symbolist
Photomechanical Processes in the Work of Félicien Rops
The art of Félicien Rops, 1833–1898
EROTICISM AND SATANISM IN THE ART OF FÉLICIEN ROPS

 

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Extras


Felicien Rops: The Art of Decadence


[RARE] Charles BAUDELAIRE – Face à Félicien Rops (DOCUMENTAIRE, 1994)


Musée Félicien Rops – Namur


Félicien Rops: Belgian Symbolist and Fin-de-Siècle Artist

 

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Joris-Karl Huysmans on Félicien Rops

 

Lust has not given birth, for its part, to any work that is truly strong. And we had to reach our time to find an artist who thought of really exploring these Antarctic regions unknown to art. Adopting the old concept of the Middle Ages, that man floats between Good and Evil, struggles between God and the Devil, between Purity which is of divine essence and Lust which is the Devil itself, Mr. Félicien Rops , with the soul of a Primitive in reverse, accomplished the opposite work of Memlinc; he penetrated and summarized Satanism in admirable plates which are, as inventions, as symbols, as incisive and nervous, fierce and heartbroken art, truly unique.
—-But, it must be said, Mr. Rops did not reach this synthesis of Evil at once. In the agile frontispieces that he once engraved for the libertine works reprinted by Poulet-Malassis in Brussels, he simply reveals a mocking and impious verve, a bizarre and quick imagination.
—-With a sometimes underlined spirit, he completes plates, sometimes elegant and ribboned like those of the 18th century – such as the etching which precedes the “Théâtre Gaillard” or the “Point de Lendemain,” by Vivant Denon – sometimes he summed up in very personal allegories, of absolute freedom of appearance. Among these, we can cite his etchings of the “Satirical Parnassus”, one: where flights of tiny women and little bacchantes climb after the rigid bounty of a Terme whose goat’s beard is bursts with joy, while, with his good father’s eyes, he contemplates one of the women who rides, distraught, on the top of his formidable member and who stretches out her arms, cries, swooning, grace, while his companions hang, screaming, from the spheres of its heavy wineskins; the other, representing the scene reversed: a troop of small aegypans who attack an armless faun, crowned with vine branches, with pointed ears and heavy breasts. She also delights, smiles, maternal and lascivious, at these little goats’ feet which take her throat, crawl on her large belly, poke into the pit of her navel, slip like a cat flap, into the half-open pod of her penis. But one of the most ingenious, most vehement works of this series is still the one which precedes the small volume of “Joyeusetés du Vidame de la Braguette”, by poor Glatigny.
—-Imagine a good scoundrel from Flanders sitting, his belly cool, holding the folded down basin of his breeches; he laughs to the point of tears, exuberates and chokes, while a swarm of cute creatures rushes over his prodigious nakedness which stands like a lighthouse whose base plunges into thick thickets.
—-And they are incredible, these dwarf nymphomaniacs! Never, until then, had we rendered with such a sense of hot flesh, with such passion, this madness of cats in heat! Tightened, they cling to the tufts with fists, climb the mast, go around the bags, hoist themselves on top of each other, devour each other and tumble into dying clusters. All this removed from a perennial and grounding design, drilling and sure. Then, in its boards, the Lingam displays the most unexpected, strange shapes. At rest, as in the frontispiece of Delvau’s “Erotic Dictionary”, it simulates a butterfly with a human face: the nose drawn by the soft stem, the eyes located at the top, under the fleece, the cheeks imitated by the two purses. At work, as in the Vidame etching, it turns into a figurine, the frenulum is sculpted into a nose and a mouth, the top becomes a Turkish turban, topped with a sour liquid.
—-But this etching to which many others could join is, in short, in the engraved work of Mr. Rops, only an alert and a joke. All those that I have reviewed are only ironic and scabrous, some almost boastful in their enthusiasm.
—-We will now point out his work itself; the woman will emerge demonic and terrible, treated by a talent which amplifies and condenses as the concept of Satanism of which I spoke appears, in a return of Catholic ideas.
—-Obviously, Mr. Rops had to embody Possession in the woman. And, in doing so, he agreed with the Fathers of the Church, with the entire Middle Ages, even Antiquity; because, dealing with couples accused of magic, Quintilian already wrote: “presumption is greater than the woman who is a witch. » Besides, it is enough for the woman to be bewitched for the man who approaches her to become infected; “Satan, through women, attracts men to his rope,” Bodin attested, paraphrasing the Middle Ages which affirmed, in all the declarations of its exorcists, that there were fifty female witches or demoniacs for every man.
—-Moreover, whether we accept or reject the theory of Satanism, is it not still the same today? Isn’t man led into misdemeanors and crimes by woman who is, herself, almost always lost to her fellow man? She is, in short, the great vase of iniquities and crimes, the charnel house of misery and shame, the true introducer of the embassies delegated into our souls by all vices.
—-We can also add, remaining within the circle traced by the Catholics, that the Demon was willingly incarnated in her and coupled, in this form, at night, with men. He was then the Succubus or the Ephialtes. Mr. Rops therefore followed the immutable tradition of the centuries, while, in his satanic work, he chose as the main character the woman, cursed by the Devil and venerating, in turn, the man who touches her.
—-On the other hand, he had to bring the Demon himself into the fearsome scenes he was meditating on.
—-And this provokes long reveries, evokes the monstrous memories that the demonographers have noted.
—-We think of leaving for the Sabbath, of the ointments extracted from mandrakes, henbanes, and the juices of nightshades, with which the women coated their bodies; we think of the philters with which they got drunk, philters composed, according to Del Rio, “of menstrual flow, semen, cat or donkey brains, hyena belly, wolf genitals and above all of hippomania which leaks from the parts of horses when they are in heat. » Then, the ride in the clouds is followed by the descent into the clearing where the Devil, in the form of the Satyr or the Goat, extends his buttock, black and hairy, which is kissed; all around, children walk toads around the ponds, because, says Lancre, “Satan keeps them away for fear of putting them off forever, by the horrible sight of so many things. » And the black mass is celebrated on the bare rump of a woman; we sit on benches, we gorge ourselves on human soup, on the flesh of children from which we suck the blood from the navel and the back of the neck; we chew the bones which, over the past year, cooked with certain herbs, have become soft like turnips. Deprived of the salt which prevents corruption, bread is made with these ears which rust has struck and in which seeds of disease, germs of death, ferment; the wine is a furious wine whose vines grew in the warm ashes of the volcanoes; blasphemies rise, we commune with the black host stamped with a goat, the torches go out, men, women, whirl, mate; each one plunges into the illicit vessels, tries to join, to practice incest, his daughter or his mother, strives to make them fat, in order to be able to slaughter and eat, in a future Sabbath, the child born of these hideous works!
—-In these actions there were ardent joys now lost and pains impossible in our time. Mr. Rops understood this and in some of his plates, he expressed these excesses of joy and suffering in a terrible way.
—-This is where the personality of these boards lies. A talented painter would perhaps have rendered this carnal ardor, this ferocity of rut, simulated, after nature, the ardent face of satyriasics and nymphomaniacs, finally created a material work confined in the aberrations of the reproductive senses, and without any other beyond that, but I now know of none who could, like Mr. Rops, have made the enraged soul of the cursed woman, possessed, poked, in all her ideas, fulminate by the genius of Evil.
—-We could, in short, after a few final explanations, summarize thus, I believe, the addition it brings to art:
—-Unlike his colleagues who were almost all born in stables and basements and whose education took place in municipal schools and howlers, Mr. Rops, exempt from worker or peasant origins and invested with a entirely literary education, is the only one who, among the plebs of pencil artists, is capable of formulating the syntheses of the frontispiece of which he remains the sole master, above all the only one who is capable of producing a work in which the past of the ‘eternal Vice.
—-Initiated in these matters, now omitted, by Baudelaire and by Barbey d’Aurévilly who had preceded him on the path of Satanism, he explored it to its limits and, in a different art, he is truly the one who noted the diabolical extent of carnal passions.
—-He restored to Lust so stupidly confined in the anecdote, so basely materialized by certain people, its mysterious omnipotence; he religiously placed it in the infernal framework in which it moves and, by this very fact, he did not create obscene and positive works, but rather Catholic works, fiery and terrible works.
—-He did not limit himself, like his predecessors, to rendering the passionate attitudes of bodies, but he brought forth burning flesh, the pains of feverish souls and the joys of distorted minds; he painted demonic ecstasy as others painted mystical impulses. Far from the century, in a time when materialist art only sees hysterics eaten by their ovaries or nymphomaniacs whose brains beat in the regions of the stomach, he celebrated, not the contemporary woman, not the Parisian, whose simpering graces and shady adornments escaped his apertises, but the essential and timeless Woman, the poisonous and naked Beast, the mercenary of Darkness, the absolute servant of the Devil.
—-He, in a word, celebrated this spiritualism of Lust that is Satanism, painting, in imperfect pages, the supernatural of perversity, the beyond of Evil.

 

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p.s. So sad about the great and sublime Shelley Duval RIP. Just her performance in Altman’s ‘Three Women’ alone is a masterclass. Lucy K Shaw and I had a fun conversation about FLUNKER and other things @ Interview Magazine if you want to read it. ** Dominik, Hi!!! It’s a pretty great novel, yeah. See, your mail experience matches a lot of my mail experiences to the T. Grr. I think the slaves genuinely like sniffing farts. Maybe it’s like scat with training wheels or something? I hope that cough didn’t projectile infect you. Surely, love has saved the day. Love making Satan real just long enough for him to record a cover version of ‘Superbeast’, G. ** Joe, Hi, Joe! So awesome to see you! Yes, the film mess is infuriating, but it will come to a conclusion somehow, I have no idea how, but it has to. Oh, god, no, never ever ever again will we work with or even acknowledge the existence of our producer from hell. The book you’re asking about is ‘Bobby BlueJacket’ by Michael P. Daley. I find Guibert very uneven. I hated a couple of his books so much that they kind of soured me on him, but ‘Friend’ is really good. His prose can be a bit precious/elitist, but he does it well when he does it well. Amazing news about you finishing the draft! Fantastic! I just finished the first draft of the script of Zac’s and my hopefully next film, so let’s root each other on. xoxo. ** M4ts, Hi, M4ts! Thank you for entering, it’s really good to meet you. Sure, when you’re at the point you need with that piece of writing, hit me up, and I’ll tell you where to send it to me. Great luck with that. Uh, yeah, I never had a confidence problem, but I never thought of myself in comparison to other writers. I never felt like what I was trying to do had any relationship to what other writers were doing, and I was lucky because the period when I grew up and worked at being a writer was a time when adventurousness and experimenting in books, films, music, etc. was prized and kind of viral, popularity-wise, and taken seriously by critics and stuff, so the world seemed like a positive, growing place. It still is, but now you have to hunt down artists and readers/ viewers who want things to surprise and revise them. But they’re there. I guess I don’t really take adulthood and professionalism seriously. I don’t see what they have to do with my writing. It’s just time passing and expectations shifting or something. I don’t know. I guess I would try not to let what’s dominant in the culture infect you. That’s just the color of the moment really. I like Walser, yes. ‘Jakob von Gunten’ is great. It had a real impact on me. ‘His style varied but intended always to hide what he had to say’: sounds so right, and that really speaks to me and to my writing, or my to attempt anyway. Again, pleasure to speak with you. Do come back if you feel like it. ** _Black_Acrylic, From living in Holland in the 80s and discovering football/soccer whilst there and then becoming a big fan of Ajax, I still always hope the Netherlands win, alas in this case. ** Lucas, Hi! Gosh, we’re hoping so about the festivals. That’s totally a legitimate approach. It’s coming from you, and you’re totally unique, and your art is/will be totally unique, so it will be unique and not like anything else by default. It can’t be tired, because your work is new. No worries. I hope luck lets you get the developed photos before the weekend presumably stalls things out for a day or so. Big day today to you. It’s nice and cold and grey here. I’m going to be able to wear my coat outside and everything. ** Tosh Berman, Ha ha, well, ‘met’ is pushing it. Do you know that restaurant Dan Tana’s, right next to the Troubadour? My parents took the family to dinner there, and there was Cary Grant sitting across the restaurant having dinner with some young guy who I now suppose must’ve been his boyfriend or fuckbuddy, and I had my autograph book with me, and I just sort of brashly walked over to his table and asked if I could have his autograph. He glanced up at me, and said, ‘Mm’, and took my autograph book, opened it, and scrawled his name and gave it back. I said, ‘Thank you’, and he smiled fakely at me and said ‘Mm’. But his ‘mm’ did have that kind of Cary Grant-ish lilt to it. ** Pascal O’Loughlin, Whoa, Pascal! Man oh man, it’s been a long time! Not since the google murder of my old blog, right? How great to see you! Thank you a lot about our films. I’m so happy to hear that. The problems finishing the new one are hellish, but it wil be finished and birthed whatever that takes. How are you? What’s going on with you, if you don’t mind saying? Wow, really good to see you, old pal! ** Thomas H, It was trippy reading myself. I liked it. Nice: the drive. I remember Ruffles. ‘Rrrruffles have rrrrridges’, as the ads used to say. Canadians have that sweet accent that ‘South Park’ used to max out. I have Canadian friends who talk like that. Thanks for the backstory re: Silicon Knights. That’s sad. It has been one of the long-standing biggest mysteries to me why there was never an ‘Eternal Darkness 2’. Your read on the ‘Frisk’ film sounds right. Araki was supposed to direct it at one point, but he backed out. Maybe I’ll try to watch it only looking for its time capsule qualities. That might work. Thanks a lot. Happy weekend’s start. What are you looking forward to most in Seattle? ** Steve, I think there might still be a couple of untranslated Guibert books, but most of them are in English now, I think. I liked your song. Your friend’s description or it kind of wonderfully nailed it, haha. Thanks, yeah, about the programmer’s enthusiasm. It really was much, much needed. I saw that VAS-TU RECONCER was playing here, but I didn’t know what it was. Maybe it’s still around. I’ll check, Thanks. ** David Ehrenstein, Hi, David! I’m so happy to see you back again! Your love of ‘Those Who Love Me Can Take the Train’ its totally legendary. And completely understandable. I hope you’re doing really well. Love, me. ** Nika Mavrody, No, I don’t know slambook, but I will investigate. Hm. I do know that about Trump, yes. Me too too! ** Joseph, Hey. There’s no late around here really. Unless I’m late, I guess. Witchcraft shops are cool, but, no, I love the magic tricks themselves, all those colorful tubes and rabbit-eating hats and trick cards and magic scarves and all that stuff. There’s a Museum of Witchcraft here. It’s actually really spooky, like the proprietors and guards are going to kidnap you or something. Anyone to whom Halloween was a huge deal is a big deal to me by default. Awesome if the post transpires. Beat that dumb job into submission. ** Harper, Ah, cool, about the favoritism of that book. I also really like its kind of sequel: ‘The Compassion Protocol’. Barcelona, nice! It’s going to be hot there, duh, I hope you can sort out the blood test in time. Me too: I’m so, so sad about Shelley Duvall. I adore her. ‘Three Women’ is greatness. She’s incredible in everything. I met he once. She gave me her autograph. I was speechless in awe around her, and she was so completely amazing and wacky and sweet to me. ** Sarah, Hi, Sarah. Good Iowa-derived books/writers? I’d have to think about that. I’m sure there must be some. I have a couple of friends who are in the Workshop right now. They say they have to fight to write anything out of the ordinary. I think I must’ve really liked the idea of confusing and amazing people by doing magic tricks because I still kind of have that same aspiration with my writing. ** PL, Hi, P. I’m alright, thanks. The Britney thing made for a good story to tell, but it’s too long for the p.s. Exciting about the Salome short. Bated breath over here. There have been slaves in the posts who were Black, but they’re rare because, at least in my searching, self-identified slaves who are Black are quite rare on those sites. The vast majority of the members of those sites who are Black identify as masters. And the rare Black slaves’s profile texts are almost inevitably racist-bating in a way that I find uninteresting and uncomfortable. So that probably explains it? All’s okay here. Make Friday count. ** Cletus, Thanks a lot, pal. ** nat, Hi, nat! I do tend to urge people looking for books to read to give special consideration to French books. Thanks about the posts. ‘Cart Life’ actually sounds kind of exciting to weird me. I’ll look into it. I should subscribe to a magic magazine! I didn’t realise they still exist. I used to subscribe to two ‘haunted house attraction builders’ magazines but they petered out. Nothing wrong with pulpy. Pulpy can facilitate greatness. And if it causes you to create super juicy characters, what more encouragement do you need, haha. But seriously. Norway did seem photo-defiant. Our photos were puny looking too. I would pursue ‘Zenless Zone Zero’ but the gambling aspect is too dangerous. I have to watch my pennies. Cool, see you on Monday too, then. ** Oscar 🌀, Hey. Oh, yes, yes, that shirt! Convince not to have one made and wear it everywhere. Please convince me. I beg you. Do you know what a sigil is? Well, I asked a sigil making app to built you a special sigil made out of a secret message that you can only absorb into your consciousness by staring at the sigil lengthily and fixedly. Tha’s how sigils work. So, start staring in 3 … 2 … 1 … Go! You’re moving in with your boyfriend! Very cool! Love is the best! And I’m sure that continual proximity won’t harm yours. I’m still waiting to hear Zac’s thoughts on the script. Hopefully today. One should only eat Krispy Kreme donuts when they’re fresh from the oven, so don’t eat the supermarket ones, only eat ones at Krispy Kreme outlets that cook their donutts on premises. Happy Friday to you too!! ** Right. If you don’t like or feel any inclination to like Felicien Rops, you’re not going to have much fun in my galerie today. See you tomorrow.

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