Film #175: Witchfinder General (aka The Conqueror Worm)

Among the horror genre’s most criminally overlooked classics, 1968’s The Conqueror Worm, which was US distributor American International's Corman-esque way of linking the film to the classic, long dead horror writer Edgar Allen Poe, in a bid for US box office success. Poe was then a big movie ticket seller and the inspiration of many Hammer horror and Corman-led vehicles like The Pit and the Pendulum, House of Usher, The Raven, and The Tomb of Ligeia, among many more (though the author's connection to this film is tenuous at best; his words are present only as some snatches of opening and closing poetry). Better known in the U.K. as Witchfinder General (the title under which it was eventually released on an MGM Blu-Ray box set including the Poe-connected anthology film Tales of Terror, the raucous two-film Dr. Phibes series, and the superb, Shakespeare-tinged horror black comedy Theater of Blood).

Reeves' version of this extraordinarily downbeat tale is a jaw-dropper. Despite its inobviously low budget, it succeeds in placing viewer right in this ornate but life-cheapening era. In it, Vincent Price leads as Matthew Hopkins, the real-life henchman for Cromwell's war-torn 17th century Britain who's assigned to locate and prosecute witches hidden within the country’s tiny townships. He’s an intriguing character because, with his obvious intelligence, he should be equipped to mitigate his dark side with common decency. Yet Hopkins is so consumed with lust and power that he can’t help but take advantage of the vulnerable, especially in a time where almost everyone was mad with fear and ignorance.

Rest assured, Price plays all this to the hilt in one of his very finest non-tongue-in-cheek horror performances. Without even the briefest moment of relief from the terror gripping the UK in this period of its history, the film is smartly helmed by long-depressed director/co-writer Reeves who, before accidentally overdosing in 1969, spearheaded two more dire, similarly-flavored pictures (The She-Beast with Barbara Steele, and The Sorcerers horror legend Boris Karloff). In keeping with those unsparing works, Witchfinder General is disturbingly set in a Hell where all moral boundaries have been violently erased, and all its subjugated inhabitants are capable of atrocities against even their closest confidants. No walk in the park, it is seriously distressing--the utter definition of horror.

1973--The Year in Review

When Universal Studios' executives were presented with the script for my film of choice, they insisted it would never work: there were too many story lines running concurrently, and audiences would be hopelessly lost in navigating its plot. When the aging execs finally saw the film, they abjectly hated it--but, then again, Universal Studios had been famously behind the times for many years. American Graffiti ended up being not only the best movie of the year, but also among the most profitable of all time. It also changed the way we processed cinematic storytelling, even after filmmakers like Robert Altman had accepted its forward thinking. Though I absolutely ADORE the ten films that follow it on my list, I could go no other way. The acting, the dialogue, the look, the sound, the editing, the needle-drop scoring (even better than the remarkable Mean Streets)…it changed so much of American film that it simply could not be ignored. Its effects are still being felt today, with each decade producing a movie of prime similarity (in the 80s Fast Times at Ridgemont High; in the 90s Dazed and Confused, in the 2000s Superbad). But I have to give props to so many other films this year, and so I think my relatively well-balanced ballot says it all (there was no way I could ignore the Best Director of the year). I have to note that the song category was packed to the max with possibilities, and though both the Hamlisch/Bergman standard and the Dylan anthem live on in lively ways, I was compelled to go another direction; the protracted final shot of Electra Glide in Blue, with the insanely emotive song "Tell Me" as its backing, is just TOO unforgettable. And finally, as to the oft-neglected short film category, I COMPLETELY urge you all to look at Frank and Caroline Mouris’ Frank Film; it is utterly unlike anything ever made--a singular achievement. NOTE: These are MY choices for each category, and are only occasionally reflective of the selections made by the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences (aka The Oscars). When available, the nominee that actually won the Oscar will be highlighted in bold.

PICTURE: AMERICAN GRAFFITI (US, George Lucas)
(2nd: O Lucky Man! (UK, Lindsay Anderson)
followed by: The Exorcist (US, William Friedkin)
Scenes from a Marriage (Sweden, Ingmar Bergman)
Mean Streets (US, Martin Scorsese)
Electra Glide in Blue (US, James William Guercio)
Paper Moon (US, Peter Bogdanovich)
Badlands (US, Terrence Malick)
The Long Goodbye (US, Robert Altman)
The Sting (US, George Roy Hill)
Amarcord (Italy, Federico Fellini)
Painters Painting (US, Emile de Antonio)
The Mother and the Whore (France, Jean Eustache)
The Spirit of the Beehive (Spain, Victor Erice)
Holy Mountain (Mexico, Alejandro Jodorowsky)
Don’t Look Now (UK, Nicolas Roeg)
F for Fake (France/US, Orson Welles)
Payday (US, Daryl Duke)
Papillon (US, Franklin J. Schaffner)
The Wicker Man (UK, Robin Hardy)
Scarecrow (US, Jerry Schatzberg)
Theatre of Blood (UK, Douglas Hickox)
The Iceman Cometh (US, John Frankenheimer)
The Last Detail (US, Hal Ashby)
Charley Varrick (US, Don Siegel)
Sleeper (US, Woody Allen)
High Plains Drifter (US, Clint Eastwood)
Bang The Drum Slowly (US, John Hancock)
The Friends of Eddie Coyle (US, Peter Yates)
Pat Garrett and Billy the Kid (US, Sam Peckinpah)
The Day of the Jackal (UK, Fred Zinnemann)
Serpico (US, Sidney Lumet)
The Night Porter (Italy, Liliana Cavani)
Sisters (US, Brian de Palma)
Day for Night (France, François Truffaut)
Godspell (US, David Greene)
Magnum Force (US, Ted Post)
The Paper Chase (US, James Bridges)
Jeremy (US, Arthur Barron)
Turkish Delight (Netherlands, Paul Verhoeven)
A Brief Vacation (Italy, Vittorio de Sica)
The Last American Hero (US, Lamont Johnson)
Distant Thunder (India, Satyajit Ray)
The Last of Sheila (US, Herbert Ross)
Save the Tiger (US, John G. Avildsen)
That'll Be the Day (UK, Claude Whatham)
Charlotte's Web (US, Charles Nichols and Iwao Takamoto)
Blume in Love (US, Paul Mazursky)
Dillinger (US, John Milius)
Wattstax (US, Mel Stuart)
The Way We Were (US, Sydney Pollack)
Breezy (US, Clint Eastwood)
Coffy (US, Jack Hill)
Tom Sawyer (US, Don Taylor)
Fantastic Planet (France, René Laloux)
Enter the Dragon (US/Hong Kong, Robert Clouse)
The Seven-Ups (US, Philip D'Antoni)
The Mad Adventures of Rabbi Jacob (France, Gerard Oury)
Let the Good Times Roll (US, Robert Abel and Sidney Levin)
Ganja and Hess (US, Bill Gunn)
La Grande Bouffe (France, Marco Ferreri)
My Name is Nobody (US/Italy, Tonino Valerii)
The Laughing Policeman (US, Stuart Rosenberg)
White Lightning (US, Joseph Sargent)
Soylent Green (US, Richard Fleischer)
The Crazies (US, George A. Romero)
Robin Hood (US, Wolfgang Reitherman)
Jesus Christ Superstar (US, Norman Jewison)
Walking Tall (US, Phil Karlson); Emperor of the North (US, Robert Aldrich)
The Devil in Miss Jones (US, Gerard Damiano))



DIRECTOR: Lindsay Anderson, O LUCKY MAN! (2nd: Martin Scorsese, Mean Streets, followed by: George Lucas, American Graffiti; William Friedkin, The Exorcist; Ingmar Bergman, Scenes from a Marriage; Terrence Malick, Badlands; Peter Bogdanovich, Paper Moon; George Roy Hill, The Sting)

ACTOR: Vincent Price, THEATRE OF BLOOD (2nd: Malcolm McDowell, O Lucky Man!, followed by: Robert Blake, Electra Glide in Blue; Al Pacino, Serpico; Donald Sutherland, Don't Look Now; Rip Torn, Payday; Jack Nicholson, The Last Detail; Jack Lemmon, Save the Tiger; Harvey Keitel, Mean Streets) 

ACTRESS: Liv Ullmann, SCENES FROM A MARRIAGE (2nd: Ellen Burstyn, The Exorcist, followed by: Sissy Spacek, Badlands; Pam Grier, Coffy; Barbara Streisand, The Way We Were; Julie Christie, Don’t Look Now; Kay Lenz, Breezy; Charlotte Rampling, The Night Porter)



SUPPORTING ACTOR: Jason Miller, THE EXORCIST (2nd: Robert De Niro, Mean Streets, followed by: Robert Ryan, The Iceman Cometh; Max Von Sydow, The Exorcist; John Houseman, The Paper Chase; Paul Le Mat, American Graffiti; Charles Martin Smith, American Graffiti; Arthur Lowe, O Lucky Man!)



SUPPORTING ACTRESS: Tatum O’Neal, PAPER MOON (2nd: Madeline Kahn, Paper Moon, followed by: Valentina Cortese, Day for Night; Candy Clark, American Graffiti; Cindy Williams, American Graffiti; Mackenzie Phillips, American Graffiti; Diane Keaton, Sleeper; Linda Blair (and Mercedes McCambridge), The Exorcist)

NON-ENGLISH LANGUAGE FILM: SCENES FROM A MARRIAGE (Sweden, Ingmar Bergman) (2nd: Amarcord (Italy, Federico Fellini), followed by: The Mother and the Whore (France, Jean Eustache); The Spirit of the Beehive (Spain, Victor Erice); Holy Mountain (Mexico, Alejandro Jodorowsky); The Night Porter (Italy, Liliana Cavani); Day for Night (France, François Truffaut); Turkish Delight (Netherlands, Paul Verhoeven); A Brief Vacation (Italy, Vittorio de Sica); Distant Thunder (India, Satyajit Ray))

DOCUMENTARY FEATURE: PAINTERS PAINTING (US, Emile de Antonio) (2nd: F for Fake (US, Orson Welles), followed by Wattstax (US, Mel Stuart); Let The Good Times Roll (US, Robert Abel and Sidney Levin))

ANIMATED FEATURE: CHARLOTTE'S WEB (US, Charles Nichols and Iwao Takamoto) (2nd: Fantastic Planet (France, René Laloux), followed by: Robin Hood (US, Wolfgang Reitherman)



ORIGINAL SCREENPLAY: George Lucas, Gloria Katz and Willard Huyck, AMERICAN GRAFFITI (2nd: David S. Ward, The Sting, followed by: Ingmar Bergman, Scenes from a Marriage; Martin Scorsese and Mardik Martin, Mean Streets; Robert Boris and Rupert Hitzig, Electra Glide in Blue)



ADAPTED SCREENPLAY: William Peter Blatty, THE EXORCIST (2nd: Alvin Sargent, Paper Moon, followed by: David Sherwin and Malcolm McDowell, O Lucky Man!; Leigh Brackett, The Long Goodbye; Kenneth Ross, The Day of the Jackal)



LIVE ACTION SHORT: THE WOLD-SHADOW (US, Stan Brakhage) (2nd: Cristo’s Valley Curtain (US, Albert Maysles, David Maysles and Ellen Giffard), followed by: L’Ammbassade (Chile, Chris Marker); The Spirit of Dark and Lonely Water (UK, Jeff Grant); A Field of Honor (US, Robert Zemeckis))



ANIMATED SHORT: FRANK FILM (US, Frank Mouris) (2nd: A Charlie Brown Thanksgiving (US, Bill Melendez), followed by: The Trip (Japan, Kihachiro Kawamoto); Where The Wild Things Are (US, Gene Deitch); Tup Tup (Yugoslavia, Nedeljko Dragic))

CINEMATOGRAPHY: Lazslo Kovacs, PAPER MOON (2nd: Owen Roizman and Billy Williams, The Exorcist, followed by: Rafael Corkidi, Holy Mountain; Conrad Hall, Electra Glide in Blue; Robert Surtees, The Sting)

ART DIRECTION: THE STING, Paper Moon, The Exorcist, High Plains Drifter, Holy Mountain

COSTUME DESIGN: THE STING, Paper Moon, The Way We Were, Amarcord, Godspell 

FILM EDITING: AMERICAN GRAFFITI, The Exorcist, The Sting, The Day of the Jackal, Godspell



SOUND: AMERICAN GRAFFITI, The Exorcist, Paper Moon, The Sting, Papillon 



ORIGINAL SCORE: Jerry Goldsmith, PAPILLON (2nd: Marvin Hamlisch, The Way We Were, followed by: James William Guercio, Electra Glide in Blue; John Williams, The Long Goodbye; Nino Rota, Amarcord)



ADAPTED/SONG SCORE: Alan Price, O LUCKY MAN! (2nd: Marvin Hamlisch, The Sting, followed by: Stephen Schwartz and Stephen Reinhardt, Godspell; Paul Giovanni, The Wicker Man; Richard M. Sherman and Robert B. Sherman, Charlotte's Web)



ORIGINAL SONG: “Tell Me” from ELECTRA GLIDE IN BLUE (Music and lyrics by James William Guercio) (2nd: “The Way We Were” from The Way We Were (Music by Marvin Hamlisch, lyrics by Alan Bergman and Marilyn Bergman), followed by: “Knockin’ on Heaven’s Door” from Pat Garrett and Billy the Kid (Music and lyrics by Bob Dylan); “O Lucky Man!” from O Lucky Man! (Music and lyrics by Alan Price); "I Got a Name" from The Last American Hero (Music by Charles Fox, lyrics by Norman Gimbel); "The Long Goodbye" from The Long Goodbye (Music by John Williams, lyrics by Johnny Mercer); “Live and Let Die” from Live and Let Die (Music and lyrics by Paul McCartney and Linda McCartney); "There Must Be Something More" from Charlotte's Web (Music and lyrics by Richard M. Sherman and Robert B. Sherman); “She’s Only A Country Girl” from Payday (Music and lyrics by Shel Silverstein); "River Song" from Tom Sawyer (Music and lyrics by Richard M. Sherman and Robert B. Sherman); "Poor People" from O Lucky Man! (Music and lyrics by Alan Price); "Are You Man Enough?" from Shaft in Africa (Music and lyrics by Dennis Lambert and Brian Potter); "Corn Rigs" from The Wicker Man (Music and lyrics by Paul Giovanni); "Tom Sawyer!" from Tom Sawyer (Music and lyrics by Richard M. Sherman and Robert B. Sherman); "Beautiful City" from Godspell (Music and lyrics by Stephen Schwartz); "Nice to Be Around" from Cinderella Liberty (Music by John Williams, lyrics by Paul Williams))

MAKEUP: THE EXORCIST, Papillon, The Sting

Film #142: Theater of Blood

When I was a kid in the 1970s, I spent much of my time at my grandmother's modest yet spectacular post-war house on Franklin Circle in Atlanta, GA. It was located only about two minutes away from my elementary school, so I'd amble down the hill when school was out and she'd watch after me until my parents came to pick me up. My grandmother was a funny, sweet, unique individual--I really loved her. But perhaps one of my favorite parts about visiting her house was the opportunity to hang out with her next-door neighbors, an intelligent and friendly (and childless) couple named Jane and Howard Schneider.

I always like to say that it was Jane who taught me how to read. She always counters by saying I already knew how to read when she met me (I must have been five or six at the time). She's right, I suppose; I had already started in on my movie obsession by pouring over the Atlanta Journal-Constitution's movie section (I remember asking my parents what sex was after seeing the ad for Everything You Always Wanted to Know About Sex* But Were Afraid to Ask). By the time we met, I was already a confirmed horror movie fan; my mom and dad had long been allowing me to purchase of Forrest J. Ackerman's legendary Famous Monsters of Filmland. And I was also a devoted Sesame Street and Electric Company disciple, so I guess I did have some pretty fierce reading skills at a young age.

So if I ultimately have to agree with Jane in that I knew how to read, even she would have to agree that it was she who introduced my to my first, real meaty literature. Knowing that I was a horror fan, she decided to pull an Edgar Allan Poe collection off her well-stocked bookshelves. She helped me go through Poe's "The Raven" first. When I had trouble pronouncing or understanding words, she'd help me through it. Of course, the poem's mood, cadence and drollery had a tremendous effect on me. I was henceforth a die-hard Poe fan.

So when I found out that so many movies had been made from Poe's works in the 1960s, I gobbled them all up (they were playing on TV, and as second features at drive-ins a lot in those days). And, as a result, I then also became a Vincent Price devotee. I watched The Raven, House of Usher, The Pit and the Pendulum, Tales of Terror, The Masque of the Red Death, The Tomb of Ligia, and The Oblong Box all because I recognized the titles as being Edgar Allan Poe stories. Sometimes, as with the

case of The Conqueror Worm or The Tomb of Ligia, the titles were the only things the movies had in common with Poe's works, but this didn't register with me until much later in life. What I really loved about these movies is that they all starred Vincent Price.

When the Journal-Constitution announced, in 1974, that Vincent Price was coming to Emory University to give a talk, Jane immediately bought two tickets and revealed to me that we were going to see my idol, live and in the flesh. I was flabbergasted. I wonder now if this wasn't my first realization that these were real people up on the screen--people with their own lives and experiences outside of what they did for the movies. I can remember the rainy night's drive to Emory's White Hall, and thinking that it was a fittingly spooky fall night to be seeing Vincent Price.

Before we got there, Jane asked me "Don't you think it would be nice if we got him a gift?" The thought hadn't occurred to me, but I immediately agreed. We decided to stop at a book store. I had read that he was a cook (a gormand, really) and Jane knew that he was an avowed Anglophile with a special interest in the Victorian Era. So we went to the cooking section and, amazingly, found a cookbook devoted solely to Victorian recipes; I can still remember the book's regal cover, with a portrait of the young Queen Victoria on it. It was a perfect, thoughtful gift.

We took out seats in the exact middle of the packed hall and at 8 pm sharp, Mr. Price was brought out on the stage. In his dark grey suit and bright tie, he looked like a giant, even from sitting this far back (he stood at around 6 foot three). He then proceeded to give a thrilling talk. I can recall his hearty recitations--by memory, no less--of an Oscar Wilde poem, and then an even more spirited one of my favorite "The Raven." And I can remember laughing at one tale he told about going to see House of Wax at an Los Angeles theater upon its 1953 release. With much sinister glee, he said that he decided to take a seat behind two teenage girls who sat screaming and squirming throughout the entire film. When it was over and the lights came up, he put his hands on their shoulders and asked them, in THAT voice, "Did you like it?" He said they almost soiled themselves.

Afterwards, Jane and I took our place in a line of people waiting to meet Vincent. He was very patient, and short-shrifted no one. When it came time for our visit with him, I was quite nervous. I was holding the book, and Jane did a lot of the talking. She shook his hand and introduced me as one of his biggest fans. He looked down at me and put his hand on the back of my head, and I said "We got you a gift." He took the book and thanked me profusely, saying that he'd never seen this particular tome. Jane told him that I was a huge movie fan, and very precocious. He then bent down and looked me in the eye and asked "Which picture of mine do you like the most?" I immediately answered Theater of Blood. He registered a bit of surprise and said "Well, you have excellent taste. That's my favorite, too." He handed me a sheet of paper, which he had signed and dedicated to me, "With gratitude and love." Jane shook hands with him and led me off. I waved to Vincent Price as we left the stage, and my first meeting with a celebrity was over. I was in a daze on the way home, and a passel of lifelong loves were sealed--for Mr. Price, for the movies, and for Jane, who has remained a strong influence (really, she's my other mother).

I still adore Theater of Blood to this day, way after I first saw it with my parents at the Northeast Expressway Drive-In in 1973. Price's role as the steadfastly Shakespearian actor Edward Lionheart, who refuses to abandon the past just for the sheer sake of keeping up with the times, seems ridiculously well-suited for him. But on top of that, I can now see that it's a skillfully directed, acted, and written film all around.

Theater of Blood begins with a brilliantly clever credits sequence that peppers the title cards with clips from silent film adaptations of Shakespeare's works. All of the scenes we see are murder sequences that will reoccur in the film we are watching. The sequence is backed by Michael J. Lewis regal theme music (his score is still one of the best ever written, filled with loss and longing). We are then treated to the film's first shot: a truck that's wryly marked "Shakespeare's Removers" barreling down the throughway, as the camera pulls pack to reveal one of the film's victims, stage critic George William Maxwell (Michael Hordern) reading the newspaper and complaining that his editors have massacred his newest scathing review. He answers the phone and is off on an errand to get some squatters out of a tenement building which he and a redevelopment committee are trying to tear down. His wife warns him vociferously not to go, because she had a bad dream the night before, and his March horoscope says he's to avoid difficult situations. "Ahh, the Ides of March," he comments before poo-pooing his wife's concerns, and he's on his way.

Here the horror begins, with Maxwell being cut to ribbons by a band of terribly scary vagrants a la Julius Caesar. He stumbles around and comes face to face with our hero, Edward Lionheart who, disguised as a constable, uses this opportunity to launch into some lines from Shakespeare's play. Hordern's character can only manage one last sentence as he looks into Lionheart's unmasked face. "You--but you're dead!" "No. No. Another critical miscalculation on your part, my boy. I am well. It is you who are dead."

And so the rhythm of Douglas Hickox's film is set up, as we are introduced to the members of the London Critic's Circle as a whole. They are, ironically, played by an exquisite set of actors with some hilarious character names: Robert Morely (the gluttonous Meridith Merridew), Harry Andrews (lustful Trevor Dickman), Ian Hendry (Peregrine Devlin, the youngest and most level-headed member of the crew), Arthur Lowe (henpecked Horace Sprout), Coral Browne (the vain Miss Chloe Moon), Robert Coote (the wine-crazy Oliver Larding), Dennis Price (the sneering Hector Snipe), and Jack Hawkins (jealous husband Solomon Psaltery, who's married to a licentious cow played by Diana Dors)  Now I'm seeing that they each and all represent the Seven Deadly Sins.

Through the investigation of the redoubtable Inspector Boot (played by Irish thespian Milo O'Shea), and through the amateur detective work of Hendry's Peregrine Devlin, we discover that the critics are being targeted by Lionheart because they continually murdered his performances by words and deeds. Lest you think that I'm giving away too much of the plot, this becomes very clear early on. The joy in watching Theater of Blood comes not in revelatory plot points--we know most of these despicable critics are doomed from the start. Said joy instead comes in seeing the inventive ways in which all murders are transposed from the pages of Shakespeare's iambic pentameter and into the modern world, all right under the noses of a grievously clueless Scotland Yard, who can't even garner leads from Lionheart's daughter, played with a witty coldness by Diana Rigg.

Chiefly, of course, Theater of Blood gives us an opportunity to see a fine and often equally misjudged actor like Vincent Price deliver some of the Bard's greatest words in a winkingly hammy fashion. The film, while being wonderfully grungy and gory, is a diabolically adroit compilation of many Shakespearian monologues from works like Othello, Romeo and Juliet, The Merchant of Venice, Titus Andronicus, Richard III, and Cymbaline. But, if that sort of thing doesn't float your boat, and gore is what you're after, then gore is what you get, in bright red strokes. There are stabbings, drownings, draggings, beheadings (oh, how the scene with Arthur Lowe being murdered in bed has me in stitches-pun intended--each time I see it), electrocutions, and a memorable gorging that's saved for last. Almost all of them are completely horrifying while also being keen and jolly, thanks to the superb script by Anthony Greville-Bell, Stanley Mann and John Kohn.

Director Hickox had previously delivered a passable 1970 adaptation of Joe Orton's Entertaining Mr. Sloane, and a notable 1979 prequel to Stanley Baker's 1964 war epic Zulu, called Zulu Dawn. But most of his output was forgettable, so it becomes even more remarkable that Theater of Blood is as fine a film as it is (though critics, predictably, savaged it upon its 1973 release; many were probably offended, I guess, that they were being targeted as villains). Hickox makes the wise choice to shoot entirely on location, making the film a grand tour of both the sumptuous and decaying sides of 1970s London (he's helped along by cinematographer Wolfgang Suschitzky, whose favoring of wide-angle lenses and colorful contrasts enlivens the movie considerably).

Still, when I watch Theater of Blood today, I am bowled over by Vincent Price's performance; it looms over everything else in the movie. Decked out in a myriad of inventive costumes (by Michael Baldwin) and make-up applications (by the deft George Blackler), his Edward Lionheart is at once dramatically compelling, darkly hilarious, and easy to love. The film must have appealed to him on so many levels (Price got to explore his Anglophilia, his acting roots, his love of good food and wine, and he even gets to murder his wife, actress Coral Browne, on screen). It's a terrific film. I'm so glad to have met Mr. Price, and to have agreed with him, for that one wonderful moment, that Theater of Blood provided him with his greatest screen triumph.

Friday, May 27, was the 100th anniversary of Mr. Price's birth. I celebrate it here, but also at The Flaming Nose, where I delve into his many television appearances, and deeper into the man's charming personality.

Film #5: The Conqueror Worm a.k.a. Witchfinder General

Among the horror genre’s most criminally overlooked classics, 1968’s The Conqueror Worm, which was US distributor American International's Corman-esque way of linking the film to the classic, long dead horror writer Edgar Allen Poe. Poe was then a big box office draw, the inspiration of many Hammer horror vehicles like The Pit and the Pendulum, House of Usher, The Raven, and The Tomb of Ligeia, among many more, though the author's connection to this film is tenuous at best; his words are repped only as some snatches of opening and closing poetry. Better known in the U.K. as Witchfinder General (the Poe-less title under which it was eventually released on an MGM Blu-Ray box set including the Poe-connected anthology film Tales of Terror, the raucous two-film Dr. Phibes series, and the superb, Shakespeare-tinged horror black comedy Theater of Blood).

Reeves' version of this extraordinarily downbeat tale is a jaw-dropper. Despite its low budget, it succeeds in placing viewer right in this life-cheapening era. It, of course, stars Vincent Price as Matthew Hopkins, the real-life henchman for Cromwell's war-torn 17th century Britain who's assigned to locate and prosecute witches hidden within the country’s tiny townships. He’s an intriguing character because, with his obvious intelligence, he should be able to mitigate his dark side with common decency. Yet Hopkins is so consumed with lust and power that he can’t help but take advantage of the vulnerable, especially in a time where almost everyone was mad with fear and ignorance.

Rest assured, Price plays all this to the hilt in one of his very finest non-tongue-in-cheek horror performances. Without even the briefest moment of relief from the terror gripping the UK in this period of its history, the film is smartly helmed by the long-depressed director/co-writer Reeves, who spearheaded two dire, similarly-flavored pictures (The She-Beast and The Sorcerers) before accidentally overdosing in 1969. In keeping with his previous unsparing works, The Conqueror Worm is disturbingly set in a Hell where all moral boundaries have been violently erased, and all subjugated characters are capable of atrocities against even their closest confidants. It's no walk in the park, but it is frankly unforgettable.