Le Peuple des abîmes

THE LOST CONTINENT is from a novel by Dennis Wheatley, a prolific writer whose books were a compilation of badly written prose, cardboard characters and often inaccurate details. They also happened to be enormous best sellers.

The movie captures his style. We are introduced to characters whose personalities change during the movie for apparent reason and plot threads that start promisingly then go nowhere.

Ben Carruthers is an almost cartoon-like sleazeball and good actors like Eric Porter, Jimmy Hanley and Hildegarde Kneff somehow manage to keep straight faces throughout.

The music is weird; from the opening crooning of a completely inappropriate title song it seems throughout to have been written for a different movie, having no connection with the mood of the scenes.

With it's painted sets and general air of cheapness it should have been a complete disaster but somehow in the end it all becomes strangely likeable.

One for those yahoo evenings with beer and popcorn.

First time I saw it, there was a scene where Porter hears Neff's life story (she was mistress of a banana republic dictator and has a son somewhere). He (I think) says he'll impound her passport unless she sleeps with him. He goes to her cabin to find Ricaldi (played by Benito Carruthers and whatever happened to him?) emerging and buttoning his jacket in a lewd way. Porter opens Neff's door to find her naked on the bunk. He throws her passport at her and exits. I watch this movie every time it's screened and have never seen this scene again. In a scene that's still present, Neff agreed to give Carruthers sexual favours if he'll let her keep the securities she's stolen from the dictator. But the absence of this key scene makes nonsense of the conversation between the three of them in the lifeboat... See this film anyway, it's a gem. xxxxxxxxxxxxx xxxxxxx

Michael Carreras often attempted to broaden Hammer's repertoire during his terms there and most of the company's artistic triumphs, and interesting misfires, can be laid at his feet. THE TWO FACES OF DR JEKYLL was a serious attempt to move the Gothics beyond the traditional limits expected of Hammer that failed due to the gap between intention and execution. Having pioneered SHE and ONE MILLIONS YEARS BC and put Hammer into the Summer family crowd pleaser market - and anticipating the modern Hollywood blockbuster - Carreras took advantage of hammer's relationship with Dennis Wheatley not to churn out another Black magic Chiller but a curious mish-mash of soap-opera, disaster movie, nautical adventure and sci-fantasy.

Eric Porter was hotter than a murder weapon at the time with his portrayal of the tormented, cuckolded Soames Forsyth on the BBC (and had become something of a sex symbol in the process - despite, or because of, his rough treatment of his capricious wife, Irene) so Hammer thought it worth taking a chance on him as leading man material - as they had Peter Cushing - instead of Christopher Lee or a fading American star. Porter was a top drawer classical actor - I had the good fortune to see his Malvolio in TWELFTH NIGHT at Stratford - and he has a convincingly craggy sea-faring face and a natural authority, and ain't half-bad as a man of action at the climax. His captain could give Cushing's Baron Frankenstein a few lessons in monomania - he fails to tell his crew (including, inevitably, Michael Ripper) about the dangerous cargo of Phophor B they carry. Having been beaten to the punch by Benito Carruther's sleazy character to sleep with Hildegard Knef, he cares very little when the man is carried off by an octopus. I doubt whether Porter lingered too long over the film on his CV but he's a first-rate lead and although he made an excellent Moriarity in the Granada series, might have been an intriguing Holmes. The women characters are unusually complex for Hammer. Hildegard Knef looked every inch a MILF and conveys the weary melancholy of a beaten-down woman who's had to compromise herself in the name of survival. Suzanne Leigh is one of Hammer's finest and most underrated bitches - look at the smirk she gives her hated father Nigel Stock when Porter berates him - and opens her thighs for anything with a pulse including the Sparks, Benito, and on-the-wagon Harry. Sadly, both fade from centre-stage at the climax - but there is compensation in the form of Dana Gillespie. We've suffered enough childish double-entendres with those gas balloons she wears for now, but she is a striking beauty and, as Hammer weren't overly concerned with the thespian ability of their ladies, it seems strange she never made another one for them - Christopher Lee could have sunk his fangs into her certainly. I suspect she's dubbed, but she certainly takes Harry's mind off the booze.

The plot structure is oddly similar to FROM DUSK TIL DAWN with the plot starting off as one genre and taking an unexpected detour in fantasy-land. Nonetheless, it remains a curio in Hammer's output (and an indication of what ZEPPELINS VS PTEROCATYLS might have looked like had it been made) and remains the guiltiest of pleasures.

When I saw this as a kid, I thought it was cool, because it had creepy monsters and a theme song that sounded like Andy Williams in some lounge. A group of forlorn passengers on board an unseaworthy steamship, which happens to be carrying high explosives, set sail for South America. They get caught in a hurricane, the crew mutinies, they get in a lifeboat, man-eating seaweed tries to eat the captain, then they find their ship again and go back on board. that's when the fun begins. The evil seaweed pulls the ship into the Sargasso Sea, where it is chow-time for all the creepy sea creatures that attack and devour the ship's passengers. Also on hand are a bunch of Spaniards who think it's the 1500's. They have managed to peacefully co-exist with these slimy creatures. They are ruled by a petulant boy-king who tries to seize the ship and it's supplies. Our heroes must battle the Spaniards and the monsters and get home.

Perhaps the strangest film to come out of Hammer Studios, The Lost Continent is literally like watching two movies in one. Similar in format to Tarantino's From Dusk 'til Dawn, the film shifts from a taut "mutiny on the bounty" type nautical drama play (with a little funky late sixties weirdness thrown in) to a whacked out sci-fi freak show complete with corny monsters, strange & hostile plants, an unnaturally large breasted woman, a child King, an oddball religious cult, and balloon-type thingies to keep the characters afloat on the marshy alien wetlands! Whew! Talk about your shift in gears! A must see for fans of oddball cinema. And to think it came out of Great Britain . . .