The Curse of the Wraydons

Manifestly melodramatic maniac, Tod Slaughter remains one of the more, how shall I put it?, 'esoteric' fear figures in the glorious pantheon of classic British horror. All too many disdainfully regard his unhinged 'murder in the barn-storming' performances as, perhaps, being of a singularly 'acquired' taste. Sadly, masters of bravura acting eccentricity are rare, and arguably one of the more unfiltered examples of a serially scenery-chewing actor would be that towering, taste-tottering titan of vintage Gothic grisliness, Tod Slaughter!

Slaughter is on mesmerisingly melodramatic form in this creepy-creaky, cobwebbed Gothic plot-boiler. Turgidly directed by, Victor M. Gover, this remains an undeniably stagy, musty film artefact, it is then no small testament to the hyperbolic mannerisms of the estimable, triple-glazed terror Thespian, Tod Slaughter who almost manages to revivify this otherwise moth-eared melodrama. The multifarious double-dealing, chivalrous duels, perfidious murder plots are wickedly energised by the unconscionable devilry of Slaughter's despicably murderous cad 'the Chief'. Wherein no tottering scenery is safe from that tenacious terror termite, Tod Slaughter as he gluttonously consumes all available celluloid as though desperately breaking an extended fast! Good films are very rarely as entertaining the really bad ones, and this is undeniably poor, but, by Jove! Its objective 'badness' proves subjectively entertaining! Depending on ones mood, 'The Curse of The Wraydons' is a not infrequently hilarious, deliciously camp vintage creepshow!

The Curse of the Wraydons was made in 1946 but feels like it was made in 1934, such is the creaky pace, static scenes and slow, exaggerated acting on display throughout the yarn. The film is slow, but the day is saved by the majestic turn of Tod Slaughter as the fiendish Chief, an arch villain in the employ of Napoleon, who murders, schemes and plots aplenty. Tod is always lurking in the shadows, laughing maniacally (often at nothing in particular), and is prone to nodding to himself repeatedly when spying through various windows. Yet, while there is scarcely an inch of the scenery that is left unchewed, Tod Slaughter really animates every scene he is in with his unrelentingly evil antics, as he was a unique acting talent in his dogged adherence and revival of the classic elements of the penny dreadful tradition and I truly love his work. So, there is much talk of the exploits of Spring-Heeled Jack, but no heel-springing is ever evident, but there are secret passages, a proto trash compactor, duels, braces of pistols, French spies, and Tod watching and anticipating torture with hand-rubbing glee. So, the film is not as fun as the other Tod Slaughter films, but there are still melodramatic larks galore.

Madness runs in some families, in the Wraydons it practically gallops in this poky but generally good-looking pre-Victorian melodrama that marked everyone's favourite wicked uncle's return to the big screen after being obliged to confine his villainy to the stage for the duration of the War by official discouragement of horror films (although his thirties vehicles had continued to do the rounds in cinemas).

A whiskerless Tod Slaughter is only Spring Heeled Jack in name, since he skulks about rather than leaps and the action is actually set against the backdrop of the Napoleonic wars, over thirty years before the first alleged sightings of the 'historical' Jack in 1837.

The Lord Chamberlain's Department in Britain actively discouraged Tod Slaughter's usual type of film during WWII, so it was not until this little costume melodrama that he was able to return from exile on the stage. It's the usual hammy stuff; only this time the setting is Napoleonic and we are smuggling information not brandy. The "Wraydon" family are meant to be a little bit bonkers - well rest assured, you are left in no doubt as our tale of camp espionage gathers pace. We've got spies, duels and treason a-plenty to keep us entertained for a slightly over-long hour and forty. Lovely to watch with a cup of tea on a dreich afternoon...

THE CURSE OF THE WRAYDONS is another murky potboiler that comes to us courtesy of Tod Slaughter, the era's top ham actor. This Napoleonic-era story tells of traitors working for the French against the English, mixing it in with a Gothic-style story of family curses and inherent madness.

Of course, it's all just a vehicle for Slaughter to show off his undeniable talents, which consist of playing up his role theatrically. He's a villain prone to uncontrollable laughter, murky mannerisms, and outlandish facial expressions. His acting belongs on a Victorian stage, but here he was, starring in sensation films for over a decade, and aren't they a lot of fun!

THE CURSE OF THE WRAYDONS is a mixed bag of a film and certainly not perfect by anybody's measure. It's overlong, it feels very staged, and it's also incredibly slow with lots of added on dialogue scenes that go nowhere. However, scenes of Slaughter and his comrades plotting and committing murder are worth watching for, and the Grand Guignol-style climax has to be seen to be believed. There are some references to the legendary figure Spring-Heeled Jack here, but sadly no actual springing - the budget wasn't big enough for that.