Crucible of Horror
The household of which Walter Eastwood is the head is an efficient if not a happy one, the patriarch fastidious, cruel and not given to forgiveness, with no hint of kindness for his wife Edith or encouragement for their daughter Jane, the only opinions which matter at the dinner table his own and those of his son Rupert, following his father’s footsteps into a career in banking while Jane is mocked for even suggesting she find a job.
Her father disdainful of any move towards independence, rage the only emotion he can express towards her, when he is humiliated by an accusation that she stole money from the golf club Walter beats her mercilessly; Edith doing nothing to intervene, all resistance stifled years before, throwing herself into angry art rather than making a stand, Jane is unsympathetic to her mother but is her accomplice when it is suggested they divest themselves of their burden permanently.
The plot to murder Water Eastwood the driving force of Crucible of Horror, it is poorly executed, but treated like servants neither Edith nor Jane (Yvonne Mitchell and Sharon Gurney) have time to plan and prepare, the opportunity of the man they hate spending a weekend at their country home hunting, travelling with his rifle propped up in the front seat, providing an opportunity to act without observation and the thought of further delay unbearable to them.
Starring Horrors of the Black Museum’s Michael Gough as Walter, his twisted relationship with Jane built on suspicion and his own jealousy, patting her still-warm bicycle seat after she alights, he is a monster of traditional English righteousness, Secret Army’s Viktors Ritelis directing Olaf Pooley’s screenplay with frosty Pinteresque sparseness, yet there are lurid nightmare sequences reminiscent of Corman’s Poe sequence which fascinate yet seem out of place in a film otherwise devoid of the fantastical.
Shot in 1969 as The Velvet House but not released until 1971 where it made its debut as Crucible of Horror in America, finally returning home to Britain as The Corpse the following year, with Gough’s own son Simon as Rupert and Pooley himself in a supporting role as country neighbour Reid, it is a fractured film, the pieces in place but not quite coming together, Les Diaboliques played by downtrodden women in the winter rain of the home counties with mugs of tea the only comfort.
Produced for only £55,000 by Abacus but now remastered from the original negatives by Hammer as part of their ongoing programme of reviewing and restoring their archives, the new Blu-ray edition of Crucible of Horror is supported by a commentary by William Fowler and Vic Pratt, curators of the BFI’s Flipside series, an interview with horror expert Jonathan Rigby, the original theatrical trailer and artwork reflecting both the release titles.
Crucible of Horror will be available on Blu-ray from Hammer from Monday 20th April
