Curse of the Voodoo

A rare miss in the horror genre for famed British producer Richard Gordon, Voodoo Blood Death stars Bryant Haliday (The Projected Man) as Mike Stacey, a big game hunter who makes a huge mistake killing a sacred lion on Simbaza territory. So, as you may expect, a curse is placed on him that follows him back to England. While he imagines spooky faces haunting him - even chasing him - the wound he sustained during his African safari mysteriously won't heal.

Although the movie is made with general competence - the director is Lindsay Shonteff, whose credits also include Devil Doll and The Million Eyes of Sumuru - and tells a decent enough story, it's pretty much a wash when it comes to horror elements. Although Shonteff tries hard to create suspense, the movie just fails to be that interesting. For one thing, there's way too much padding, and for another, too much time is wasted on Stacey's dull domestic situation (he's trying to win back his estranged wife).

It's too bad; the score by Brian Fahey is good, and the capable supporting cast includes Dennis Price (Kind Hearts and Coronets), Lisa Daniely (The Vicious Circle), Mary Kerridge (Richard III), Ronald Leigh-Hunt (The Omen), and Danny D. Daniels (The Outing).

All in all, this has to rank as a disappointment.

Four out of 10.

Bryant Haliday is a world-weary professional hunter who kills a lion partially wounded by a member of his party. The rest of the film follows the effects of the curse put on him by the local tribe who worship lions. There is no voodoo as such and they should have kept to the original titles, The Lion Men, or Curse of Simba, but no doubt Mr Gordon reasoned these weren't strong enough for exploitation purposes. The tribesmen, presented as savages, do respect the lions which is more than the idiots today who pay huge sums of money to hunt these magnificent animals down. Somehow big-game hunting of the past doesn't seem so bad though.

The film moves at a leisurely pace when back in England and the attempts to emulate Lewton don't really come off. The original version under review runs for 82 minutes and it's understandable that some of the later footage of Haliday's inner torment was cut. Dennis Price is good but has to little to do and Beryl Cunningham's exotic dancing is certainly captivating. Brian Fahey provides a driving score even if it's used inappropriately in places.

Curse of the Voodoo (AKA Voodoo Blood Death) stars Bryant Haliday as hard-drinking big-game hunter Mike Stacey, who kills a lion in Simbaza territory, thus incurring a curse that slowly causes him to go mad. The only way for Mike to break the curse is to kill the man who placed it on him.

Having set up the basic premise, this dull film does very little of interest, with Mike - having returned to London - spending most of his time half-cut or hallucinating, while his estranged wife Janet (Lisa Daniely) looks concerned. Mike sees scary Simbaza tribesmen lurking around every corner, and is even chased across Hampstead Heath by a couple of them, but Lindsay Shonteff's lacklustre direction achieves very little in the way of suspense or excitement.

To pad out the run-time, we get a prolonged dance routine in a nightclub, Beryl Cunningham gyrating enthusiastically to some jungle rhythms, and we get to see Mike's doctor (Ronald Leigh-Hunt) meticulously arranging his medical bag, which kills some more time. There's also a spot of gratuitous skin from gorgeous Valli Newby as a lonely young woman who invites Mike back to her flat for some no-strings-attached nookie (however, while the lovely lady strips down to her undies, Mike passes out on her bed - the drunken fool!).

The pace is slow, and the script is dull. Dennis Price appears from time to time as Stacey's pal Major Lomas, adding some class to proceedings, but the film is largely a waste of time, with our thoroughly unlikable lion-killing 'hero' turning to murder to free himself of his curse.

3.5/10, rounded up to 4 for IMDb.

Now then, where to start.... I am a big fan of the ultimately rather tragic Dennis Price; he was superb in "Kind Hearts and Coronets" (1949) so thought I'd defy the reviews and give it a chance. Well, you know what - it's dreadful nonsense. Bryant Haliday is a big game hunter who commits the ultimate taboo for a local tribe of voodoo worshippers - he kills a Simla (not the one from the cartoon, you understand...). This is sacrilegious to the locals - and so when Haliday gets back home, suitably cursed, he begins to have hallucinations that he is being chased across rural England by spear-yielding warriors... Now anyone who has ever tried running through a grassy, thistle filled field clad only in a loincloth will appreciate just how difficult - decidedly jaggy and slippy, bestrewn with cow pats - it can be; and that's without a man in skintight white denim taking potshots at you; or indeed, pointing his jeep in your direction... The film is simply woeful; the action scenes filmed and edited as it were a jigsaw puzzle and the music was so interfering as to render the whole thing amongst the worst example of British cinema I have ever had the misfortune to watch.

This dull follow-up to producer Richard Gordon and director Lindsay Shonteff's DEVIL DOLL stars Bryant Haliday as a big game hunter in modern day Africa who bags a lion on Simbasa territory and is cursed by the tribe, who revere lions as gods. Although Haliday flees to London, he is wracked by unexplained fevers and is dogged (or is he?) by spectral Simbasa warriors who run him down on Hempstead Heath and peek in through his seedy hotel window. It's all pretty unexciting stuff; although the film begins and ends in the Dark Continent, the lion's share of the story takes place indoors - apart from a couple of exteriors and one ill-advised attempt at a "Lewton walk," where Haliday hears the growling of game cats while walking back to his hotel one night (this might have had some effect had not Shonteff overlaid Brian Fahey's bombastic score atop it, killing the atmosphere). 1965 matinee audiences must have been driven mad by this unrelentingly dull voodoo drama; seen now after the passage of thirty years, its racist underbelly destroys any possibility of enjoying the film on a kitsch level. British character actor Dennis Price brings class to the production, but he's wasted as Haliday's sage advisor.