El coleccionista de cadáveres

There are a few things that do save Cauldron of Blood from total doom. The scenery is very picturesque then again this is Spain we're talking about, the animated title sequence is brilliant and the best scene of the film easily(sadly also one that deserved a much better film), Boris Karloff's presence is still magnetic despite his health and Viveca Lindfors is wonderfully nasty and in a rather scary way. In the acting stakes though Karloff and Lindfors are the only ones that come off as remotely well. Jean-Pierre Aumont looks thoroughly disengaged and as though he didn't want to be there, and others like Rosenda Monteros and Ruben Rojo over-compensate wildly and painfully. Cauldron of Blood is devoid of tension, suspense and chills, mainly because of how cheaply rendered the atmosphere is and also because of the appallingly cornball script- if you get any chills it will be from this component alone, the writing really is that bad- and how much the weirdly constructed story drags, to the extent that the only feeling you get from watching Cauldron of Blood is boredom. The pacing is erratic, on the ponderous side rather than rushed mostly, and the ending is anti-climatic and poorly resolved. Apart from the scenery and animated sequence, Cauldron of Blood is not a well-made film at all, the effects are hokey and the camera work is as erratic as the pacing but worst of all is the editing which is all-over-the-place, slow and choppy in feel and look and it was clear that the making of the film was spread out over a few years which seriously affects the continuity. The music is more strident and over-bearing than stylish and atmospheric. So overall, not Karloff's worst film, it's much better than those wretched Mexican films he made in a similar time frame to this( especially Fear Chamber, though one of them- The Incredible Invasion- made for one of the worst final films of any actor), but it is far from one of his best. If we were to just exclude the Mexican films for a brief second, Cauldron of Blood is still down there with The Invisible Menace and Voodoo Island as one of his weakest. A very generous 4/10. Bethany Cox

A woman turning into an animated skeleton, a title constructed from bones, credits written in a 'dripping blood' typeface, a cauldron bubbling with dry ice, and a skull lit with garish colours: the schlocky ingredients that make up the opening credits set the tone for this trashy, somewhat psychedelic 70s euro-horror starring an aged Boris Karloff in one of his last screen roles.

Karloff plays blind sculptor Franz Badulescu, who creates his masterpieces—3D representations of figures from old masters—using real skeletons as armatures, unaware that the bones come from the unfortunate victims of his wicked wife Tania (Viveca Lindfors) and her murderous lover Pablo. French journalist Claude Marchand (Jean-Pierre Aumont) is in town to interview Badulescu for a magazine; when his girlfriend Valerie stumbles upon the body of Pablo's latest victim and she is abducted, he must rush to her rescue before she too is stripped of her flesh in Tania's acid-filled cauldron.

I'm going to go against popular opinion and declare Cauldron of Blood a very enjoyable slice of lurid Euro-nonsense, the cheeze factor so high, and the competence so low that I couldn't fail to have a good time: Lindfors (Aunt Bedelia from Creepshow) makes for a terrific villainess, hamming it up big time. There's a cool, jazzy, brassy score with ridiculously urgent wailing trumpets for the action scenes. Male viewers are treated to some quality eye candy in the form of tasty blonde Elga (Dyanik Zurakowska) and mute housemaid Pilar (Jacqui Speed). The frantic finale is utterly daft yet surprisingly tense, and delivers a nifty bit of gore when Lindfors has her arm plunged into her own acid bath. And for those still left wanting, there's a redundant sub-plot about Claude investing in beach property, plus a few random shots of birds of prey and a big crab for good measure.

6.5 out of 10, rounded up to 7 for IMDb.

A bad movie and a mediocre one coexist under the same title: first, a bland story of a horny French journalist turned tourist promoter, courting a blank Spanish girl, who falls prey of a sadistic bitch; and second, a horror tale involving a blind sculptor and his crazy wife, who kills animals and people with her lover's assistance to provide real bone structures for her husband's 3-D evocations of famous paintings. Characters go back and forth from A to B for 97 endless minutes. Pity is that both Lindfords and Karloff try hard to make any sense of the whole affair. Not a bad idea, but poorly executed, with dreadful music and silly special effects and nightmares. Be warned.

Watching the film on videotape, I got to wondering about the incredibly meandering plot and how many of the characters don't really have anything to do with each other. Then it hit me-- this flick was assembled over a period of years! The original movie centered on Karloff but his ill health left that section far too short. Over the next couple years, it looks like the producers added to the flick whenever there was cast and money available. And of course as movies got more explicit, they added more scenes to make this stew commercially viable (like the lesbian model scene).

I guess I am the odd man out here. I rather thought this film - a troubled production that took years to complete and finally hit the screen - was rather entertaining in a sick, undeniably twisted, bad way. Yes, it has some lamentable aspects. Karloff is ancient and it shows. The story has lots of continuity problems(remember it was completed over several years and was not released till a couple years after Karloff's death). It has a very perverse story line about Karloff, a great artist living in Spain, and his demented, tormenting wife, played with zeal by Viveca Lindfors, needing bodies for his sculptures. You see, even though he is blind, he still can sculpt based on armatures based on real remains. Karloff believes his wife is getting them one way, and she is definitely getting them another way. French photographer Jean Pierre Aumont smugs for the camera saying silently, "God, don't I look so charming." He isn't, but he is an adequate leading man if nothing else. The girls in the story, particularly the girl playing Elga and Rosenda Monteros as Valerie are lovely creatures at the very least. And what about Karloff? He is still good and still one of the best things about this film(though my greater inclination is to side with one of the nastiest female portrayals in film I've seen in some time by Ms. Lindfors). Karloff still has a commanding voice and presence, and this film role is much meatier than any of that garbage he did for Mexico at the very end of his life. This movie has much greater continuity and story line than any of those four horror stories of film. Cauldron of Blood is by no means a great film - nor a good film, but I did find it reasonably entertaining and I, for one, was never bored watching it. Really, how can you go wrong with King Karloff, Viveca Lindfors wearing a Nazi-like uniform with riding crop and nylon netting under her eyes having flashbacks of her youth as a pig-tailed blonde no less, a cauldron of acid that burns the flesh off of any carcass, and a fight scene in the dark with a blind man and his hateful wife. As Karloff's character says to his wife, having just accused her of causing him to be blind, "Till death do we part I suppose." Nobody ever said a line like Boris!