The Legend of the 7 Golden Vampires

The Legend of the Seven Golden Vampires

七金屍

Directors – Roy Ward Baker & Cheh Chang

Writers – Don Houghton, Bram Stoker

1974, UK-Hong Kong

Stars – Peter Cushing, David Chiang, Julie Ege

 

From the moment that Dracula decides to possess the form of the minion that has awoken him from his tomb (Huh?), it’s evident that logic – internal or otherwise – won’t be Hammer’s last Dracula’s strong point. Then Peter Cushing is Van Helsing, teaching vampire history to a Chinese university class. They aren’t impressed (a moment that asks more than one question: he’s been invited to whitesplain? They walk out, but why did they choose and attend the lecture in the first place? Van Helsing doesn’t have any evidence but believes it anyway? How on earth would he know the details? So he battled Dracul a hundred years ago? What kind of university is this?). And it’s true that Van Helsing really isn’t needed on the following vampire-killing mission, although he is convinced to join a Chinese student and his siblings on a mission to rid the student’s village of the curse of golden vampires - one of the seven is already destroyed/dead, which kind of crimps the title from the start. And also these vampires and minions are pretty easy to kill.

John Forbes-Robertson makes for an unimposing Dracula (again: who can apparently body-swap-possess now?) and Robin Stewart is a little embarrassing as Van Helsing’s son when fighting alongside serious martial artists. Speaking of which: none of the kick-ass brothers get anything to say, although as a girl and therefore a love interest, the sister does.

 

Rather, it’s the Shaw Brothers studio Hong Kong Kung-fu half that wins out in this mash-up as the Hammer Horror side is lazy and weak. However, the mass fights are fun if dated, the weapons look plastic (especially those axes… oh, and the ridiculous bat-medallion thingies), and the traditional Chinese hopping vampires don’t seem to be really trying. More successful are the vampires that ride at night, raiding villages for female victims and gratuitous exploitation toplessness, giving off a decidedly ‘Blind Dead’ vibe; and even better are the zombie minions rising from the graves. Otherwise, It’s up to Cushing to reliably deliver the exposition and bad dialogue with a gravitas it doesn’t deserve, and the charm of David Chiang and Julie Ege to carry it all (although she does nothing). It’s all very comic-booky, with the primary colours, occasional vista and Asian setting as bonuses. A curio it may be, but it doesn’t really deliver much more than a “Wha…?!” Doesn’t make a lick of sense: goofy fun but not good.

 

The Devil Rides Out

 

Terence Fisher

UK, 1968

Screenplay: Richard Matheson

A Hammer highpoint, from its vivid opening credits ‘The Devil Rides Out’ hits the ground running and careens along with the pacing of a tense thriller. Richard Matheson – always a reliable voice – streamlines and improves on Dennis Wheatley’s original tale of the diabolical (he even sent Matheson a thank you note). 

Christopher Lee as Duc de Richleau presides over all, such a mammoth presence that they have to send him off for research just to let the other characters do their thing. Lee’s air of superiority and arrogance remain, as with any of his villainous roles, but here every “You fool!” is offset with a little doubt and vulnerability too. There’s the aura of a repressed warmth. It’s there from the first scene where he smiles to himself when watching his friend fly in, or the simple fact that he does all this to save his friend. Whereas Peter Cushing’s earnestness is casually convincing and brings gravitas and credibility to the absurdities, Lee seems like he would slap it into you. He is hellbent that you take this seriously, even as some of the dialogue, out of context, could be unintentionally funny; even when a shocking reveal is chickens in a basket, or trying to stave off the apparition of a black man, and even when the effects are less than stellar. For every telling delivery of a line about how his friend should take any of his cars, there’s Lee barking when answering the phone.

To counterpoint, Charles Gray is great casting as Mocata, Richleau’s flipside who oozes privilege and arrogance and carves his place as Lee’s superior effortlessly, as sinister as Lee is brash.

The classism and patriarchy are deeply ingrained in everything. Every man speaks to the women with a certain condescension. The accent of the English gentry is good for that. This is about two men of a certain age and class playing out their games of Good and Evil on the younger generation (Youth: don’t meddle with adult things you can’t hope to understand). But it’s the innocence of childhood that thwarts the forces of darkness, however much the adults flounder about. However, Sarah Lawson does get a central celebrated scene, dealing with a visit from Mocata, and Nike Arrighi as Tanith has all the mystery as a seeming conduit for Morcata. It’s decidedly old-fashioned and as Patrick Mower says (in the Studio Canal release’s extras) they felt it was so at the time, but he now sees it as aging well. It’s become a cult classic.

 

It has several memorable set pieces: the rescue from the Black Mass; the car chase in antique vehicles; Mocata’s hypnotism attack on Marie Eaton in a plush lounge;, and, of course, a night spent in a protective circle enduring a supernatural assault. And of course, the reputation of ‘The Devil Rides Out’ is that the effects let it down, but the strength of the story and execution makes the imagination compensation for what’s lacking. For my money, The Goat of Mendes hits the mark: simple but eerie.

And it has an ending that kind of ignores all the bad that’s gone on so that things can be idyllic again, which certainly seems in keeping with religious denialism. It’s a bit of an anti-climax: Richleau really doesn’t do anything, and the devil worshippers just wait for the recital that’ll bring about their demise to finish. But it’s true that the Hammer Horror feel, which Terence Fisher established from the start with ‘The Curse of Frankenstein’, is that the excellent production and art design by Bernard Robinson, James Bernard bombastic score, some old-fashioned Englishness and the pure insistence of moodiness overcomes any obvious weaknesses. (I like the observatory.) With a swift pace and consistently dispensing with memorable set pieces, ‘The Devil Rides Out’ is great occult entertainment. 

The Abominable Snowman

Val Guest, UK, 1957

Story & screenplay by Nigel Kneale

Adapted by Kneale from his television serial ‘The Creature’, but something seems to have been lost in translation. Kneale’s ideas about telepathic yetis and species survival should make this more expansive and curious than a standard creature feature, but those points never get the space needed to fully dominate and fascinate. Peter Cushing, in his second role for Hammer, effortlessly shows he can ground any genre absurdities and strides over any silliness and weakness surrounding him. He certainly casts more distinction than Forrest Tucker who barks his way through it all. The former is the clearheaded Englishman with an admirable obsession and purpose; the latter is the mercenary American who will do anything for the money and a name.

The English are the type that feel they if speak louder and in an aggravated manner, the locals will understand. The natives are babbling and superstitious and are talked about in derogatory ways by the English-speakers; the lhama is the mystic type (played by German actor Arnold Marlé). The Americans are brash and shouty and venal. Misogyny and xenophobia are rife, although the script doesn’t truly follow that: for example, Rollason’s wife Helen (Maureen Connell) cooks dinner for the men, but she’s a professional too in this group and just ignores Friend (Tucker) when he tries to relegate her to a serving girl.

The black-and-white vistas are vast in a way not so typical of Hammer; the studio sets blend agreeably and there’s Cushing. But without Kneale’s ideas pushed to the forefront, you’re left with characters acting stupidly because the story needs them to go out into a lethal blizzard to traipse off alone again. If you’re waiting for the monsters, without the ideas making them truly interesting, they aren’t really seen and disappointing in the glimpse we get. Without the evidence of their features being shown earlier and indicating an intelligent and empathic species as Rollason (Cushing) claims, the final reveal doesn’t quite hit home and comes long after the narrative has lost momentum.

Tom Milne calls this “Hammer’s botch of Nigel Neale’s teleplay.” Anything intelligent is overwhelmed by the stupid behaviour of the characters and there’s not enough fun or monsters elsewhere to overcome weaknesses and datedness. Hammer had Kneale right with ‘The Quatermass Xpermint’ (1955), and the mind-boggling ideas really hold their own for a ‘Quatermass and the Pit’ (1957 - the original series is a personal favourite), but there seems to be a missed opportunity here.