L'effroyable secret du Dr. Hichcock

Gorgeously filmed, totally insane Gothic pastiche from Riccardo Freda holds its marvelously overwrought tone through to the fiery climax. At the center of it is Barbara Steele's Cynthia, the neurotic second wife of the eponymous Dr. Hichcock, who, from the second she arrives in her husband's creaky and apparently haunted mansion, is picturesquely threatened by the hostile maid, by a mysterious figure in white, purported to be the maid's sister, and by her own increasingly mad husband, who was already predisposed to pseudo-necrophilia, but who really starts to tip over the brink as he begins to believe his first wife has come back from the grave. It's all both lavish and ludicrous, and profits from Steele's incredible screen presence and the weight of its own images. Spectacular use of color, as well. Essential viewing.

London, 1885. Respected Dr. Hichcock (Robert Flemyng) has had a rough day at work. He goes home to his wife Margarets' (Teresa Fitzgerald) piano recital. She plays badly enough for friends to whisper comments. After she's through playing, she pleads a headache and the attendees quickly leave. The doctor then mixes up a medicine to knock out the Mrs., so he can have sex with her as though she was dead. A few days later, the doctor puts too much barbiturate into his formula and kills his wife for real. After her funeral, he leaves London for twelve years.

Fast forward to 1897. The doctor has married Cynthia (Barbara Steele), who was a mental patient of his and has no idea of his past. They return to London and Hichcock's old house. Strange events start to happen.

The film looks expensive and fussily Victorian. Director Riccardo Freda has all of the music a note or so off key, to suggest things aren't right in the characters minds and that things aren't as placid as they may seem. The film utilizes most of the old cliches successfully; a dark and stormy night, a window banging, a piano playing by itself, etc. The film owes a lot to Alfred Hitchcock, and steals some ideas from his films. There's even a direct copy of one of his most famous shots, the glass of milk from "Suspicion" (1941).

Steele was a underrated actress, and is at her best here. Flemyng is good as a man struggling not to become totally crazy.

THE TERROR OF DR.HICHCOCK (L'ORRIBILE SEGRETO DEL DR.HICHCOCK is a masterpiece! It seems I have come to appreciate this picture more with each viewing. Whereas NIGHTMARE CASTLE is focused on generating an atmosphere of ugliness and treachery capped with a satisfying supernatural pay-off, HICHCOCK goes for more and immerses the viewer in a suffocating fog of loathsomeness and horror. Robert Flemyng as Bernard Hichcock is marvelous. He perfectly calibrates his performance so as to expose his character's slow descent into unbridled derangement. The film opens with Hichcock practicing necrophilia, but we soon see that the Doctor, while obviously demented, is quite capable of protecting the secret of his awful desires. But, as the story unfolds, it becomes apparent that his abominable passions are slowly overtaking his intellect and his ability to maintain the appearance of normality. Much of the film's horror stems from this powerful presentation of the insidious and irresistibly intensifying nature of sexual psychosis. It also seems this film holds the ultimate moment of horror in Barbara Steele's exceptional career as a genre actress. The scene as her character, Cynthia, wakes from a drugged sleep is stunning. Cynthia finds herself strapped to a cot and watches as her husband materializes out of the darkness and menacingly advances upon her. To her full horror she stares wide-eyed as Hichcock's face distorts into a misshapen, glowing red mask of malignancy and evil. This magnificent shot was achieved with the use of surrealistic, nightmarish lighting and facial bladders attached to Flemyng's face, which, as they were slowly inflated, dreadfully perverted the actor's features.

One of the major contributing factors to this film's impact is the sumptuous score by Roman Vlad. Vlad produced a lush tapestry of fully-formed themes and motifs. Most noticeable is the superb piano concerto elegantly performed by Hichcock's first wife, the ill-fated Margherita Hichcock. Simultaneously beautiful and unsettling, I have no qualms about favorably comparing Vlad's fine effort with that other exalted "gothic horror film" composition for solo piano, James Bernard's Vampire Rhapsody from KISS OF THE VAMPIRE. Vlad also composed what I will call Hichcock's Theme; a superlative example of emblematic impressionism. The piece effectively advances a fresh orchestral paraphrase for things dark and depraved, and does so without being prosaic or overwrought. Oddly, Vlad refrained from employing any of these principal themes in the opening titles. THE TERROR OF DR.HICHCOCK is just as shocking today as it was 40 years ago. Don't miss it!

Many people, like me, will see The Terror of Dr Hitchcock purely for it's cult value. This is the best reason to see the film, as the value outside of it's cult status isn't exactly vast; but the film does offer other reasons that makes viewing worthwhile. First and foremost is the fact that it stars 'The Queen of Horror' Barbara Steele. Steele is an odd beauty, and her looks always ensure that she serves whatever film she's in well. She stars alongside Robert Flemyng, who takes the title role as Dr Hitchcock. Given that the film is supposed to be about him, I was surprised to find that most of the screen time focuses on Barbara Steele's character. This is either the result of Steele's status within the genre, or the fact that Flemyng's character is actually quite boring. This is the film's main problem. The themes on offer are intriguing and often make for great horror movies; but because the central character never really gets a chance to let his motives and desires shine through the performance; it's difficult to really connect with him or the film.

The story follows the aforementioned doctor. Dr Hitchcock is into necrophilia, and when his game that involves drugging his wife goes wrong and she winds up dead, Hitchcock is unable to let go and keeps her body in the cellar. He remarries and plans to use the blood of his new wife to bring back his old one. Like most Italian horror films from this period; the cinematography is awesome, and this is brought about by lavish sets and excellent use of lighting. A lot of the running time is spent on watching Steele run about the various rooms of the castle, and this would be quite boring if the film wasn't so beautiful to look at. The cinematography isn't enough to save the film, however, as a lot of what goes on does look suspiciously like padding for an otherwise thin plot. The film starts off slowly, and the pacing does pick up towards the end where the film is at it's most interesting. The Terror of Dr Hitchcock isn't a great film, or even a great genre film; but it's an interesting little flick that is best remembered for it's beautiful cinematography and the fact that it stars one of horror cinema's great actresses.

Actually what I have on VHS (recorded off the TV) is the full-length version of the film, released in the U.K. as THE TERROR OF DR. HICHCOCK (in the U.S. it was cut by 10 mins. and retitled).

From the little I have watched of 'Euro Horror', this is definitely one of the highlights; most critics place it at the top of Freda's canon and it's easy to see why. Visually the film is stunning (even if the print I have watched has seen better days) with any number of striking images that are not easily forgotten.

Still, the film's greatest coup, perhaps, is its unabashed (but not sensationalistic) treatment of necrophilia, a theme that was pretty much taboo at the time - and probably still is! (I urge you all to read Glenn M. Erickson's excellent and highly perceptive essay on the film on the 'Images Journal' website - incidentally, you will find a whole section here devoted to Italian horror films.) In this respect, THE TERROR OF DR. HICHCOCK would make a fine companion piece to Mario Bava's LA FRUSTA E IL CORPO/THE WHIP AND THE BODY (1963), another unhinged (and extremely personal) Gothic masterwork!

The exemplary cast is headed by Barbara Steele and Robert Flemyng. Steele is pretty good in what she has to do (though never quite scaling the heights of LA MASCHERA DEL DEMONIO/THE MASK OF Satan [1960]) but is overshadowed by Flemyng as Dr. Bernard Hichcock (an inspired choice for a name!) who is utterly credible in all the various facets of manic lust his character has to go through. Indeed, this doctor would not have been amiss in a Poe story and, much as I love Vincent Price in the AIP/Corman adaptations, Flemyng here emerges a far more sinister figure - without ever resorting to camp!

Finally, I wonder how this film's follow-up LO SPETTRO/THE GHOST (1963), which I have never watched, compares with the original. Hopefully both films will one day be adequately represented on DVD, possibly released as a double-feature.