And Now the Screaming Starts!

British film company Amicus were the masters of the horror anthology, but they also produced single plot movies, this being one. Here we have a delightfully Gothic tale about a curse, haunted paintings and a crawling, severed hand. The film is very well shot, has lovely sets and boasts a very fine cast. However it is not the "gory horror" that the newspaper TV guide described back in the 1980's when I first watched it, it is also slow at times. Perhaps this was a short story that has been stretched to 90 minutes, it sometimes feels like it. But is does have some effective horror moments, plus there is a rape scene which I found to be the most shocking part, so not suitable for kids. Many years ago when I was attending college one of the bus drivers was a spitting image of Silas the woodsman, we did chuckle about that! Certainly not one of the best Amicus movies but still an enjoyable late night horror.

Odd film, this. Not being the biggest fan of Hammer, I always felt Amicus a more competent stable (neither really produced a film that was actually frightening, but they could be entertaining, and Amicus were glossy and lurid.) This one is a little-known piece that always gets bad reviews but I happen to like it. Firstly, it has a splendid cast. Secondly, the camerawork is something to behold, the sickly lurid colours blending in with the gorgeous period costumes and attractive, dramatic locations. There is also a little more going on here than meets the eye. Perhaps a subtle nod to the Glamis Castle story...? There's a little bit of class war going on, and despite its vivid rape scene I can't help feeling this isn't quite the exploitation movie it appears. For an early 70s movie it does at least treat the issue seriously; the effect it has on the victim and the fact that no measures can atone for it are believable.

A word to the excellent music, beautiful but interspersed with a spooky zither. And Geoffrey Whitehead is very good. The graveyard climax is pretty powerful too, and the closing shot as a camera wanders an empty room to the Bible is a cut above what one expects from this genre. The bad points are the tacky severed hand, the occasional Grand Guignol hamminess and the fact that the film does rather overplay it's hand...it spends so long building up to its revelation that by then it will always be a let down.

And one other criticism...Catherine recovers from her wedding night ordeal ridiculously quickly, which totally contradicts the film's central premise. Still, the open window symbolism and the Malleus Mallificarum references are neat, as is the wonderful scene of Charles standing by the window as the snow falls and reading the lines from Milton's Comus. This film honestly isn't as bad as you may think and you could certainly do alot worse on a dark winter evening!

Even in 1973, there was not much new about a haunted mansion with a curse placed on the family who owns it, but this take on the genre still has a few things going for it. Beacham (stunningly appointed in a dazzling array of ornate hairpieces, hats and gowns with her bosom taking center stage) is a bride arriving at her groom's estate for the first time. On her wedding night (to Ogilvy), she is menaced by a ghastly figure with a stump for a hand and two blown out eyes. Or is she imagining the whole thing. She can't get anyone to tell her any details about the history of the house, chiefly during the time that Ogilvy's grandfather ran it, and any time someone relents and decides to fill her in, they are struck dead. Amazingly, Ogilvy is more concerned about his wife's mental state than the fact that people keep turning up dead at an alarming rate! Family physician Magee sends for noted psychologist Cushing, who tries his best to sort through the rubble of the mystery (while a hilarious severed hand watches ominously from under tables and behind boxes. Shouldn't this fella be at the Addams' house?) A lot of the film is a rehash of the, by now tiresome, "now it's there, now it's not" sort of thing and the standby, "But I can't tell you" line of dialogue. The pace is a little too leisurely to support such commonly seen material and storyline. However, the acting is excellent all around, so that, along with some creative direction and decent music, helps to keep the viewer interested for the most part. There are several striking bits of camera work in this movie. Cushing doesn't appear until halfway through the film at least. He gives his customarily strong performance, lending class and distinction to the film. Lom really should have had one of those cameo billings with his character name listed after as he only appears briefly (but effectively) near the very end of the film. Magee is appropriately musty as the old family doctor. Beacham is ravishing and gives a very solid performance. Though fourth-billed, it is really her story and she rises to the occasion beautifully with moments of radiance and terror. She has one memorably amusing faint and some riotously fun reactions to all the creepy goings-on. Ogilvy does well in a very underwritten and sketchy role. He and Beacham scarcely share any meaningful scenes together. The rest of the cast is made up of decent British character actors who give their roles a nice air of dread and flavor. The story isn't quite unique enough and the result isn't quite memorable enough for this to count as a horror classic, but it has plenty of merit nonetheless and isn't a bad way to while away a little time.

This little-seen film blends together a myriad of classic horror themes, such as ghosts, crawling hands, wrong doings and curses. It's a classic example of British horror, set in a standard haunted house (there's even a graveyard nearby). Early '70s fashions are sadly non-existent here, as it's a period piece and all the costumes are of the historical variety, although there's nothing wrong with that. While the plot for the film is a typical (and dare I say clichéd) one, it has plenty of incident to keep it moving and loads of different ingredients to make it enjoyable. However, the winning formula for this film is the cast.

Ian Ogilvy (WITCHFINDER GENERAL), Stephanie Beacham (INSEMINOID), Patrick Magee (DEMENTIA 13), and Herbert Lom (ASYLUM) all act convincingly and enjoyably in their roles. Ogilvy doesn't get to do much but look haunted as the husband, but Beacham is on top form here, giving it her all as the screaming victim. Magee is fine as usual, while the fantastic Lom adds yet another cruel character to his resumé. As soon as Peter Cushing arrives, playing a doctor with a dodgy toupee, the fun really begins and things get even better. Cushing's performance is as usual, excellent, but all performances from a cast well familiar to the horror fan are varied and good.

The sheer diversity of different ingredients in this film make it work, and I advise you to sit it through in order to witness a most amusing moment at the end, when Ian Ogilvy dashes Herbert Lom's skeleton apart against his tomb - serve him right, the nasty old man. You also get the classic "crawling hand" prop, which was reused by various studios throughout the 60's and 70's - spotting it is half the fun! AND NOW THE SCREAMING STARTS may not break any new boundaries in the horror genre but it's a good, solid, old-fashioned ghost story and it's very entertaining, with exactly the same quaint and brooding atmosphere as a quality Hammer horror piece.

Amicus and Hammer studios were very much in the same market, even to the point of competing for the same stars and directors. A quick glance at the cast, crew and plot summary of `And Now the Screaming Starts' could mislead one to believe it was a Hammer production: Roy Ward Baker, Peter Cushing, Herbert Lom and Patrick Magee were all known for their contributions to Hammer history, and the Gothic premise of a late 18th century ghost story fits their profile well. Nevertheless, certain elements tag this as distinctive from the Hammer cycle, and make it of note to horror completists, although perhaps of less interest to general audiences.

The film was originally based on an obscure novella entitled `Fengriffin,' after the name of the cursed family line around which the story centers. Of course, a movie called `Fengriffin' would have been a weak seller in any market, particularly the lurid horror market of the early 1970's, (`Texas Chainsaw Massacre' came out only two years after), so it was inevitable that a splashier title would be selected. In choosing `And Now the Screaming Starts', the producers assured their film cult status and greatly embarrassed most of the actors, who had thought they were working on a more `serious' film. The title seems to fit well, however, as lovely Stephanie Beacham demonstrates her lung capacity often, particularly in the first third of the film.

The story follows a standard plot of Gothic decadence: a noble family is cursed for the libertine debauches of an ancestor, and the young generation pays the price. This is typical of a period in literature in which wistful nostalgia for the aristocracy was combined with growing class resentment and a sense that the nobility had `failed' in their responsibilities as leaders. Amicus updates this by including an axe murder, a rotten corpse-ghost with no eyes, a severed hand, and a somewhat overly subtle rape scene by said ghost. The rape is particularly typical of Amicus' approach to the genre, as compared to Hammer's. At the time, Hammer was doling out overt doses of sex alongside their blood, and frontal nudity was not uncommon. Amicus, however, shied away from nudity or sex almost prudishly, and refused to allow its stars to be seen as compromised. Why they would select a story that hinges on a rape they refused to show (or even imply effectively) is perhaps the greatest mystery.

The true star of this movie is the female victim, often the case in well produced Gothic drama. Top-billed Peter Cushing appears 47 minutes into the movie as her doctor, an `ahead-of-his-time' psychiatrist who wants to prove that the supernatural elements are all in her head. The filmmakers have given us a few too many clues at this point for there to be any real doubt, but watching him methodically seek a rational answer (and his excellent downplayed performance) gives the plot a new lease on life after it begins to drag a bit. Patrick Magee as the eccentric country doctor and Herbert Lom as the decadent ancestor are also excellent. A bit less convincing are Ian Ogilvy as the concerned husband and Geoffrey Whitehead as the outraged peasant.

Overall, the film is directed well, nicely photographed, and has beautiful sets and good effects, considering the low budget. Nevertheless, it seems to lack `something' that would make it worthy of repeat viewings. The sense of dread one associates with the best of Gothic drama is undermined somewhat by the romantic, upbeat score. Perhaps there are too many scenes shot in daylight, or the castle isn't quite gloomy and decrepit enough to transmit the sense of the curse. Whatever it may be, I recommend this more as a curiosity than a great film.