The Curse of the Living Corpse

Once upon a time, The Curse of the Living Corpse was a staple of local free broadcast television horror and all-night movie slots. Gone are the days.

Entertaining for a low budget outing with fairly good cinematography, in spite of the inclusion of a bumbling "Dr.Watson-type" assisting his superior in the investigation. I say spare the unneeded "comedy relief".

The story is an old-school "Ten Little Indians" drawing-room who-dun-it, with mayhem stalking about the mansion and the nearby forest, while the style of the movie is updated (for 1964) Gothic.

Roy Scheider is very good in his first outing and, though the film is not so much scary, it is gruesome to similar effect and may disturb sensitive viewers.

A reasonable diversion for fans of indie horror.

In the year of our Lord, 1964, the horror genre already underwent a metamorphosis. Films like "Psycho" and "Peeping Tom" gave a new meaning to terms like tension and terror, pioneers like Hershel Gordon-Lewis were experimenting with extreme splatter, and across the Atlantic Ocean geniuses, like Mario Bava were savagely butchering fashion models in the first Gialli. Why this little history lecture? Well, because "The Curse of the Living Corpse" was released in the same year, but it still looks and feels - deliberately - like a horror production of the 30s or early 40s.

Okay, admittedly, it's a more Grand Guignol than in the thirties, with severed girls' heads on a plate and close-ups of burned corpses, but "The Curse of the Living Corpse" is basically a standard "old dark house" chiller, and I expected Boris Karloff or Bela Lugosi to pop out from behind the curtain at any given moment. Everything else is there: the death of a rich but tyrannical patriarch, the atmospheric reading of the will, insufferably greedy relatives bickering with each other, eerie family vaults, peek-holes through the eyes of portraits, quicksand puddles, redundant comic relief characters, etc.

All this isn't criticism, you know. I love hammy guff like this, especially when the main characters are as loathsome as the Sinclair brothers, and when the death traps are sadistically linked to the victims' deepest fears. Director Del Tenney maintains a good pacing, the ensemble cast is more than amiable (including the debut performance of none other than Roy Scheider), the women are beautiful, and the end-twist is acceptable.

The film begins with a funeral for a rich old man. However, soon after the man is locked away in his crypt, family and servants are killed off or maimed and it appears as if the man is very much alive...or is he? Okay, folks,...I KNOW that this isn't a great film nor is it a great work of art. The acting by several of the "actors" is extremely poor and too many of the parts seem almost "cartoony" in their simplicity and one-dimensionality (such as the police man and the lady who gets beheaded). But despite the general cheesiness of the film and the very, very familiar plot (sort of like an "old dark house" style film), the overall effort is still fun and entertaining. Some of this is due to the good special effects but most of it is because even some of the dumb characters (such as the oldest son) are so funny and over-the-top that you can't help but watch.

Old Rufus Sinclair wasn't a nice man, so it's no surprise that when he dies, no one in his family mourns the loss. Rufus had a condition that made him appear to be clinically dead, so he was terrified of being buried alive; so much so that his will contained explicit instructions for his family to carry out--or they would each be killed by a method that frightened them the most.

Oldest son, Robert Milli, who looks like he's doing a seductive Rhett Butler imitation, is bad at gambling, but good at having his way with the maids and his brother (Roy Scheider)'s wife..he's pretty despicable..and Scheider isn't much better as the always inebriated Phillip, who thinks his dark sarcasm makes him the clever one. Rufus actually preferred his nephew, Dino Narizzano who is dull as dishwater. Scheider's wife, Margot Hartman is conniving, and Narizzano's girlfriend (Candace Hilligoss) is just plain vapid.

As promised, we see the coffin lid open...and then we see a figure in black, only his eyes visible. Rufus? Zorro? Hard to tell. The bodies stack up, and the police are called..and that's too bad. The police inspector and his assistant are comic relief in a picture where it just doesn't fit.

Is it awful? No, in fact, compared to most of the B-made for the drive-in set movies of the period, this one has some good points. It does have some thoughtful cinematography, and actually could pull off the Victorian horror if the buffoonery of the police hadn't put a halt to it. Except for a couple of actors, the performances were pretty amateurish, but I guess my low expectations were met. So so..but of course, you may be scared to death by it..don't believe me? Just watch the cheesy trailer!

Has the patriarch of a turn-of-the-century New England family actually returned from the dead to start murdering his relatives, one by one? Believe me, by the time you get to the end of this low-voltage horror film, you won't really care anymore. Of interest only as the film debut of Roy Scheider, as well as the second movie appearance by "Carnival of Souls" star Candace Hilligoss.