The Curse of Frankenstein (1957)

In the same way that Dr. Frankenstein reanimated human tissue to bring the dead back to life, 1957’s The Curse of Frankenstein resurrected the dead genre of the gothic horror film. The Universal Frankenstein series had run fallow after Abbott and Costello Meet Frankenstein (1948), and American theaters and drive-ins of the 1950s were filled with more modern fare, like teenage delinquents, flying saucers, and giant atomic insects. When Hammer Studios’ low-budget reimagining of Mary Shelley’s public domain horror classic reached cinemas on both sides of the pond, audiences were shocked, thrilled, and delighted to see blood in living color, but they were even more titillated by the surprisingly subversive strain of cruelty and sexual permissiveness that made it onto the screen.

The writer, producer, and director of The Curse of Frankenstein were forced to work under a number of limitations. Money was tight at the low budget studio, so mobs of angry villagers and expensive special effects were out of the question. Also anything resembling the plot or monster makeup design from the Universal Frankenstein series would likely result in a lawsuit. However, as is often the case, imposed limitations simply led to greater creativity and a better end product. Instead of focusing on the monster, the Jimmy Sangster script focused on the Baron, and made him more inhuman than the reanimated corpse that he brought to life. Gone was the boring, conflicted Dr. Frankenstein of old. Instead, The Curse of Frankenstein gave us a doctor that was a conceded, atheistic sociopath, and Hammer Studios wisely hired Peter Cushing (the best actor to ever become a horror icon) to embody the creep.

Hammer’s version of the story begins with Baron Victor Frankenstein (Peter Cushing) being visited in a prison cell by a priest on the eve of his execution. To pass the time, Victor tells the cleric the events of his life that have led him to this low end. In flashback, the film tells how the teenage Baron was tutored in science by Paul Krempe (Robert Urquhart). As an adult, Victor pushes the boundaries of medical science, first bringing a puppy back to life and then attempting to create life from the reassembled parts of multiple cadavers (and some unwilling victims). Victor’s depravity is not diminished when his fiancée, Elizabeth (Hazel Court), comes to live with him or when Paul Krempe becomes squeamish about the enterprise. Victor’s acts to bring his creation to life become more rash and bloody, while he simultaneously carries on an affair with the chambermaid. Unfortunately for Victor, his reanimated creature (Christopher Lee) is more difficult to control than he imagined.

The so-called monster doesn’t show up until 50-minutes into the 83-minute narrative, but he isn’t missed, because Cushing’s Dr. Frankenstein is such an interesting, amoral shit. Of course, it was fortuitous that Hammer also had the luck to hire a 6’5” bit player by the name of Christopher Lee to play the creature. The then-unknown was a much better actor than anyone anticipated, and Lee gave the monster a humanity that wasn’t in the screenplay. The surprise sensation caused by The Curse of Frankenstein made both Cushing and Lee fixtures of Hammer Studios for the next 15 years.

In fact, almost everyone involved in the film, including director Terence Fisher, cinematographer Jack Asher, and composer James Bernard went on to long associations with the studio, continuing to produce fine Hammer product into the early 1970s. Frankenstein also became a Hammer staple. Unlike the Universal Frankenstein series, which followed a near-indestructible creature, the Hammer Frankenstein series followed the Baron, as he escaped the guillotine to try (and fail) again and again to create a controllable creature. Peter Cushing reprised the role five more times, in the most consistent, highest quality series that Hammer produced.

After The Curse of Frankenstein, gothic horror returned in a big way. It not only ushered in an era of color horrors from Hammer Studios. The Curse of Frankenstein also encouraged competitors to try to match Hammer’s success, leading to the Roger Corman/Vincent Price collaborations at AIP and the horror anthologies of Amicus. Happily, over 60 years later, the movie that reinvigorated the gothic horror continues to enthrall audiences.  If you haven’t seen The Curse of Frankenstein, it comes highly recommended (as does the new Warner Archive Blu-ray, which is detailed below).

 

UK/C-83m./Dir: Terence Fisher/Wr: Jimmy Sangster/Cast: Peter Cushing, Robert Urquhart, Hazel Court, Christopher Lee, Melvyn Hayes, Valerie Gaunt, Paul Hardtmuth

For Fans of: The Curse of Frankenstein sits at the mid-way point between the atmospheric, classic monster movies of Universal Studios and the more explicit scarefests of today.  Consequently, it tends to appeal to fans of both types of horror.  If you like horror films, you’ll almost certainly want to add The Curse of Frankenstein to your home library.

Video: Prior to the Warner Archive Collection’s new Blu-ray release of The Curse of Frankenstein, the film had looked washed out and damaged on home video (and even in repertory theatrical screenings). The Warner Archive Collection has gone back to the original separation masters and scanned them at 4K 16 bit, before performing full digital restoration and color correction. The results are a huge improvement over prior home video releases, with a sharper, more colorful image and no visible scratches or speckles. Of course, viewers should not expect miracles, as the original negatives were printed to death. While the pallet of the film still feels a bit muted versus later Hammer horrors that would follow, some of the scenes look rich and sumptuous, with vibrant reds and greens. Overall, the image looks very nice, which could not be said about earlier releases. Hammer-heads should not hesitate to pick up the Warner Archive Blu-ray, as it is doubtful the film will ever look better.

I know there has been some debate as to which aspect ratio is correct for the film, but Warner has accommodated every taste by providing the restoration in 1:85:1 (for those that like their full TV screen filled), 1:66:1 (which is probably the most accurate to original theatrical screenings), and 1:37:1 (open matte, which reveals more of the matte paintings and set dressing). I watched the film in 166:1 for this review, but I sampled all of the offerings, and they were all equally sharp an colorful.

The two-disc Blu-ray set also has an impressive group of special features.  Here’s the full list of extras:

  • New feature commentary by screenwriter/film historian Steve Haberman and filmmaker/film historian Constantine Nasr — This is a terrific discussion of the merits of the film, with a lot of behind-the-scenes detail. The pair had access to multiple versions of the screenplay, so they discuss scenes that were planned but excised at the filming stage.
  • The Resurrection Men: Hammer, Frankenstein and the Rebirth of the Horror Film — Richard Klemensen, the publisher of the Hammer-centric magazine Little Shoppe of Horrors, gives an entertaining and informative overview of the making of The Curse of Frankenstein and its incredible influence on the horror film genre. This is a great featurette, but I do have one nitpick. Klemensen describes the film as the first color horror film, which is nonsense. It may have been the first British color horror, but the U.S. produced several color horrors earlier, including Doctor X (1932), Mystery of the Wax Museum (1933), Doctor Cyclops (1940), Phantom of the Opera (1943), and House of Wax (1953).  Even the 1925 silent film version of The Phantom of the Opera had color sequences.
  • Hideous Progeny: The Curse of Frankenstein and the English Gothic Tradition — Sir Christopher Frayling discusses gothic novels, art, and where Hammer films fit into the tradition. This is a wonderfully erudite and fun featurette.
  • Torrents of Light: The Art of Jack Asher — I gained a greater appreciation of the lighting and photography in The Curse of Frankenstein through this featurette hosted by cinematographer David J. Miller.
  • Diabolus in Musica: James Bernard and the Sound of Hammer Horror — Finally, composer Christopher Drake gives us an expert’s assessment of the score by James Bernard in the fourth featurette.
  • Original Theatrical Trailer (HD)
  • Optional English SDH subtitles for the main feature

You can purchase the disc directly from the Warner Archive or from other online retailers (Amazon link below).

Streaming: At the time of this review, The Curse of Frankenstein was streaming HBO Max. It is also available for purchase or rental through multiple digital retailers, but it is unlikely that they will provide the new restoration.

More to Explore: Unlike Hammer’s Dracula series, most of the sequels that followed The Curse of Frankenstein equaled (and at times surpassed) the quality of the original. This is because four of the sequels, Revenge of Frankenstein (1958), Frankenstein Created Woman (1967), Frankenstein Must Be Destroyed (1969), and Frankenstein and the Monster From Hell (1974), reteamed actor Peter Cushing and director Terence Fisher. Cushing also starred in Evil of Frankenstein (1964), directed by Freddie Francis, which doesn’t quite fit in the continuity of the other films. The one Hammer Frankenstein without Peter Cushing, The Horror of Frankenstein (1970) is the least of the Hammer films with “Frankenstein” in the title.

Trivia: Reportedly, Robert Urquhart was one of the audience members that was truly disgusted by The Curse of Frankenstein. Consequently, he did not appear in future Hammer productions, and he also avoided horror films for the remainder of his career.

For More Info: Little Shoppe of Horrors magazine dedicated issue #21 to an in-depth examination of the making of The Curse of Frankenstein, which includes interviews with director Terence Fisher, first assistant director Derek Whitehurst, star Peter Cushing, and producer Anthony Hinds. There are also several excellent histories of Hammer Studios in book form.  Best of all, but out-of-print, are Wayne Kinsey’s two volumes, Hammer Films: The Bray Studio Years and Hammer Films: The Elstree Studio Years. In addition, Hammer Films: An Exhaustive Filmography by Tom Johnson and Deborah Del Vecchio is a excellent film guide.

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