‘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
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
Vincent Price Documentary
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
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.
25 of Vincent Price’s 199 films
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
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
the entire film
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
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
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
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
the entire film
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
Behind the scenes
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
the entire film
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
the entire film
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
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
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
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
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
Opening credits and first scene
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
the entire film
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
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
the entire film
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
the entire film
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
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
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
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
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
the entire film
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
the entire film
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
the entire film
p.s. Hey. Bernard Welt requested the restoration of this post from my old, murdered blog, and thus. ** New Juche, Hi, Joe. That spotlit book is the only one of hers I’ve read so far. I’ll see what ‘Jellyfish’ is. Bon weekend, man. ** David Ehrenstein, I successfully avoided the thing itself, but I did wind up checking in on the fallout/feedback. Utterly predictable. I put together a ‘spotlight’ post about ‘Two Serious Ladies’ last night. ** Dóra Grőber, Hi, Dóra! Cool, it’s a very interesting novel. I wrote to the casting agent connection politely begging for his assistance, but I haven’t heard back yet. Sometimes uneventful or uninteresting to describe days can be the best ones, and I hope yours was one of those. Mine wasn’t much to write about either, truth be told. Organizing film stuff. I walked over to this popup showroom where they were showing/networking about this line of shirts, coats and hoodies that my pal Michael Salerno collaborated on with the design firm Komakino, and they were really cool. There was this one coat I would have tried to steal if it was about four times larger and organic (I have a very annoying allergy to fabrics and dyes, and I have to wear organic clothes, if I haven’t already mentioned it.) I avoided the inauguration. I did fish around afterwards to see what the fallout was. I finished a new literary gif work after a bunch of months that blog readers will see soon. Gisele told me that I/we have to come up with a title for her new dance piece right away, so I started thinking about that. Not much else. Oh, it’s the weekend now isn’t it? I almost forgot. Have a swell weekend! How did it go? ** Steevee, Mel Brooks films are really good and funny when they are. I do think ‘Young Frankenstein’ is some kind of masterpiece. Everything you’re describing sounds uncannily like jet lag, even the week or so of recovery time. Curious about your review, less so about the film itself. Everyone, Go read Steevee’s review of the new Alain Guiraudie film, which “I wasn’t crazy about.” Here. My guess is that there’s going to be an absolute avalanche of politically conscious rock in the next six months. ** Montse, Hey! Oh, I didn’t know who Jessica Aliaga was. I’m guessing that Jekyll&Jill was a good press since that’s a cool name. Me too: I rarely go see animation films in the theater, even the Pixar ones, unless they’re rare animation projects by directors I like a la ‘Anomalisa’ or ‘The Fantastic Mr. Fox’, or the Laika films — ‘Coraline’, ‘Kubo’, ‘ParaNorman’, etc. — which I love and see as immediately as I can. Did you have fun outside? Or even inside? Love, me. ** Bernard, Hi, B. You know German well enough to translate a poem/lyric? I had no idea. When you come over, I want to watch you and Gisele have a weighty to weightless conversation in German. That would be fun. She’s half-Austrian, as you might know. Anyway, I was trying to avoid Facebook yesterday with semi-success, so I didn’t see your poem/lyric, but I will once the p.s. is off the table, and I’ll try to coax others over there too, by … Everyone, Here’s Bernard Welt to first explain an offering and then make it. Please read/click. Bernard: ‘I spent an hour or so this morning translating a poem from the German and I’m pretty pleased with how it turned out. I think I got the tone and mood right. The thing is, it’s a lyric for a song (music by Kurt Weill), and I didn’t worry about singability; I just wanted my friends who didn’t know the poem to be able to read it. It’s on my Facebook page if you would please check it out when you can.’ You’ll need to scroll down through a few subsequent postings, but no big. I haven’t seen ‘Elle’. Generally so-so to less about his films, fairly or un-. Critical writing! More to come! Enjoy Mr. Price. ** Jeff J, Hi, Jeff. The Mary Robison comparison makes sense to me. I hadn’t thought of that before. Yes, I do remember that post. The photographer is a friend of mine. That’s very old post, so I’ll have to see if I still have the ingredients on a hard drive somewhere, which I should, and, if so, yes, I’ll happily restore that post, probably with a significant update. I did a post on the murdered blog about Erpenbeck’s novel ‘End of Days’, which I liked very much, so I can recommend that one. ** Chris dankland, Hi, Chris! Cool, I’m really glad the book caught your interest. I haven’t heard any of the new Flaming Lips. I’m always interested by what they do. I.e., I will partake. Maybe today. Thanks! You have a peaceful weekend too by whatever means you can find. ** Jamie, Hi, Jamiebird! That’s a bad one. Great that Hannah and you got hooked by the book. Well, should you end up putting your music online as you just kind of promised, that would put your new laptop in a category outstripping even a really great, technologically innovative new Disneyland ride. Wow, really, make that uploading a priority, if you want my opinion. Stuff’s fine with me mostly. I feel like maybe the problem is what the adult powers-that-be consider ‘educational’. I mean … kids can learn profound things by watching a car park or a drinking straw lower into liquid, you know what I mean? Adults forget how active and productive and contemplative kids’ imaginations can be. Kids’ imaginations are 24/7 self-educatng machines bent on bettering themselves. I don’t know. Five minute episodes?! Wow, that sounds like a really tough form. Huh. I’ll try to find that ‘boy on a bike’ in ice. I’m a relentless hunter when I want to be. I like bland haircuts. Well, I guess I like really not bland ones too. I think I like all haircuts. Well, not Trump’s. I did work and did this and that yesterday. I guess I told Dora whatever scoop there was to be scooped up. Work this weekend, bank/apartment figuring out, maybe see a friend here visiting for fashion week, get out but stay warm. I think that’s my vague plans thus far. Have a super awesome weekend of madcap eveything. Big love right back atcha! ** Misanthrope, Hi, George. Mind melding is cool. Being cut open isn’t. To you and me. I’ve learned from my slave searching that being cut open can apparently be very hot. I guess I have no feelings about Sinead O’Connor one way or another due to very limited exposure to her stuff. What do recommend as an entranceway for a novice like me? That’s a great feeling, that change is coming thing. Enjoy it and watch carefully for its signs. ** TonioK, Hey! I just put together a post about ‘Two Serious Ladies’ thanks to you. You read/liked ‘Allan Stein’, awesome. I should do a post about that book too. I’ll see if I can. Thanks for the link. I’ll hit it. Have a really good weekend! ** Kyler, Hi. I feel like people in the US really are finally awake and ready to figure out how to fight and defeat that fascist piece of shit, but we will see. That’s weird: In the last couple of weeks, I’ve been getting a shit ton of friend requests from mostly women with ultra-wholesome looking profile pics with whom I have no mutual friends. What’s going on. ** Gary gray, Hey, man! Sorry for my generic start too. Mayhem in Chicago! Oh, right, doing that that classic album recreation show. That should be killer. I think, yes, without question, it is very cool for a musician, experiemtal in particular, to have someone in the audience get really into the show, especially if its in some unexpected way. Experimenting ideally begets experimenting, right? I guess I’m good with the internet. Social media is a bit of an ugh for me because everyone in my feed to saying basically the same thing about the same thing 24/7. I’m not interested in exploring the conservative mindset. I have limited patience with frightened control freaks. Anyway, nice to see you, buddy. Enjoy the weekend wherever it and you lead each other. ** Right. Please enjoy the works and savoir faire and so on of Mr. Vincent Price. See you on Monday.