Interest has been high for VCI’s new The City of the Dead, a movie that creeped us out on TV showings as Horror Hotel. Having been too young to see Psycho first-run, a certain plot twist in this show provided my first horror shock of the, “but they can’t do that!” variety. The City of the Dead has a distinctive look and even sounds different as well… the English actors’ American New England accents are just ‘off’ enough to sound a bit odd.
This show gets high marks on the horror matinee hit parade. It’s an efficient and reasonably engaging witchcraft tale that conjures a few good scares and atmospheric moments. Christopher Lee tops a cast that does well with a mediocre script. Some Italian films around this time tried to make themselves appear American-made, but this English film takes place in America to take advantage of the notion of historical witch burnings, etc. Except for that one narrative surprise, it’s all fairly predictable. But City of the Dead understands that in gothic horror, atmosphere counts for a lot.
The producing team of Max Rosenberg and Milton Subotsky begin their show in an academic setting, with a college professor who should never have been granted tenure. Eager to research witchcraft and impress her professor Alan Driscoll (Christopher Lee), pretty Nan Barlow (Venetia Stevenson) goes against the wishes of her brother Richard (Dennis Lotis) and boyfriend Bill Maitland (Tom Naylor). She uses her college vacation to drive North to the tiny New England town of Whitewood, where it is said that witches were burned almost 250 years before. There she meets Mrs. Newless (Patricia Jessel), the haughty owner of a small inn, and is warned by several locals, including young Patricia Russell (Betta St. John) that devil worship may still be active in the dark and foggy hamlet.
From the moment we see Christopher Lee glare angrily at a student who scoffs at his theories on witchcraft, we know we’re in one of those horror movies where certain things must be taken for granted. Lee’s Professor Driscoll is transparently villainous, telegraphing hidden motives with every gesture. None of his students are the least bit concerned by his sinister reactions. When Venetia Stevenson’s Nan Barlow approaches Whitewood, people start acting like suspicious villagers from an old Dracula movie. We never see the town in daylight; it exists in perpetual darkness. A misty fog hangs over everything, without a hint of a breeze. Patricia Jessel’s insufferably haughty Mrs. Newless condescends to her guest, torments a mute servant and in general behaves so suspiciously, one wouldn’t turn one’s back on her, let alone stay in her hotel. Valentine Dyall’s spectral warlock Jethro Keane is on hand for additional generic menace. He vanishes mysteriously from Nan’s car, but she takes it in stride.
Jessel and Dyall put the movie over the top, providing most of its menace — each has great screen presence. Each wears a slightly sneering facial expression, just enough to be upsetting. Valentine Dyall’s commanding voice is a big asset as well. He narrates many English trailers, and serves as the voice of God in Stanley Donen’s Bedazzled. Neither of these creeps will give a simple question a simple answer. Dyall’s Jethrow Keane talks as if he’s the Devil himself, in charge of bigger things.
Naturally, none of this strange behavior fazes Nan in the least. This graduate student in anthropology is alone in a spooky town with a lot of weird locals. This being a horror picture, that is of course the cue for her to strip to her ridiculous music-hall underwear to get ready for bed. Betta St. John’s Patricia is sort of a Marilyn Munster type, oblivious to all the satanic activity around her. She runs her little bookstore without any sign that she ever gets a customer. Her grandfather has (perhaps) been blinded by the town necromancers, and there are no ‘normal’ people about. Yet she seems puzzled when Nan’s brother Richard (Dennis Lotis) asks her if she has any ideas as to how his sister may have disappeared in Whitewood … on a known demonic holiday. Don’t all New England calendars come marked with the Dark One’s holidays?
All that really isn’t a problem, as we’re in Horror Movie Land. It takes the heroes of The City of the Dead about seventy minutes to finally figure out what we knew going in. But the show does manage some tense moments, and we care about the likeable and attractive cast. It’s definitely old-school, and detractors might call it a Hammer wannabe. In terms of sophistication, it can’t touch thrillers like Curse of the Demon or Burn, Witch, Burn, but it has a charm of its own and has become a favorite for many.
The City of the Dead has curious similarities with Alfred Hitchcock’s Psycho. Nan Barlow checks into an inn and is murdered the same night; instead of a lover and a sister investigating her disappearance, it’s a brother and a boyfriend. The concept of one female victim entering a deadly trap with a second almost following in her footsteps is fairly generic, and since Subotsky’s film was shot earlier 1959, he can’t have come home from Hitchcock’s movie raving, “We have to do this, only with witches!” City also utilizes the same witch-burning prologue from Black Sunday, and uses the shadow of a cross as a weapon against evil, as seen in The Brides of Dracula. All of these movies were released in the same year, so calling any of them copycats without full research isn’t a good idea. The City of the Dead is a respectable programmer made from various off-the-shelf genre elements. In his commentary, Moxey broaches the subject and compares his film’s plot to that of Psycho. (Thanks to Tom Weaver for corrections with this.)
In all fairness, the stagey, fog-bound sets representing Whitewood look great, with interesting lighting and compositions. Desmond Dickinson’s B&W camera direction is quite good, even when expressing horror clichés. One nice touch is a shot of several couples dancing in Mrs. Newless’s inn. They spin like tops, just like the satanic dancers way back in William Dieterle’s The Devil and Daniel Webster. As for the sets covered in fog, I give them a solid ‘A.’ Roger Corman would use the same look — a bare stage with naked trees and a fog to cover the floor — on several of his Poe pictures. In color and Panavision, the interior sets never really convinced me.
Today’s fans of course like Christopher Lee most of all, although they need to know that he’s a supporting character here. The good news is that Lee is granted several dialogue scenes, when we’re accustomed to seeing him in near-mute roles or dubbed with someone else’s voice. His professor Driscoll is an awfully uptight, twitchy guy. A blind man could see that he’s hiding something, with all of his overstated ‘little reactions’ to mentions of witchcraft or Whitewood.
Venetia Stevenson is a favorite, sort of an angora sweater dream girl type grown into something a bit more substantial. Unlike hundreds of horror bimboes, her Nan Barlow is a serious student, even if she at times seems more than a little dense. Knowing she’s in Witch Country, she nevertheless talks shop about the local superstitions. Her most amusing moment is when she tells Mrs. Newless, “Did you know that covens must first take a personal object from their victims?” And then a second later, follows that with, “Hey, you haven’t seen my gold locket, have you?” Mrs. Newless is a master of the ‘twitchy-subtle’ reaction as well. A fun editorial and writing exercise would be to superimpose subtitles over Chris Lee and Patricia Jessel, revealing what they’re really thinking.
Ms. Stevenson is possibly the only American in a movie that’s supposed to take place in New England. Only the old garage attendant played by James Dyrenforth tries for a genuine New England accent, and gets his “Hickory Farms” twang down just fine.
