Terror in the Fog
Tied with the release of their recent Mabuse Lives! box set, the six films of producer Artur Brauner during the early sixties inspired by that particular character, Eureka’s Masters of Cinema collection returns to the vaults of Berlin’s CCC Filmkunst with a box entitled Terror in the Fog, five crime thrillers of the same period inspired by the works of the writer Bryan Edgar Wallace and his father Edgar Wallace.
Subtitled The Wallace Krimi at CCC, the term “krimi” is explored by film historian Tim Lucas who provides introductions to each film, considering the parallels with and distinctions between the American and British mysteries and thrillers of the time with which the genre shares much, filling the same cultural niche as did giallo in Italy, a unique identity in a broad field but obviously of the same family.
Opening Terror in the Fog is Der Fluch der gelben Schlange (The Curse of the Yellow Snake), directed by Franz Josef Gottlieb from a script co-written with Janne Furch, filmed in Berlin but set in England after a brief but murderous prelude in the Far East, businessman Clifford Lynn (Joachim Fuchsberger) arriving in London to meet debutante Joan Bray (Brigitte Grothum) and her frosty cousin Mabel Narth (Doris Kirchner).
A stranger to whom he is to be married in order to settle the debts of her uncle Stephan Narth (CCC regular Werner Peters), there are other forces in play, paths leading to Lynn’s half-brother Graham St. Clay (Pinkas Braun), also known as Fing-Su, leader of a cult called the Joyful Hands, seeking the titular stolen gold relic in order to benefit from the curse with which it is associated.
Released in February 1963 and based on Edgar Wallace’s 1926 novel The Yellow Snake, the film has not translated or aged well, with yellowface and women traded as objects, the overt racism clouding the story which lies beneath of arms dealing in the London docklands, the Joyful Hands a private army planning to seize power, though the principal distraction is strictly Caucasian, Eddi Arent as Lynn’s best friend and bumbling comic relief Samuel Carter.
Only four months later, June 1963 saw the reign of Der Würger von Schloß Blackmoor (The Strangler of Blackmoor Castle), directed by Harald Reinl from a script by Ladislas Fodor and Gustav Kampendonk based on Bryan Edgar Wallace’s novel of the same name, though lacking the definitive article, smarter, more coherent and more daring with even Walter Giller’s kilted comedy turn as Lord Edgar Blackmoor enjoyable.
Lucius Clark (Rudolf Fernau) announcing to his friends over dinner that he is to be knighted, the news will not hold off his creditors, nor the unknown party who holds him responsible for the murder of his former business partner Charles Manning and the theft of the diamonds he had in his possession, the threat placing Clark’s niece Claridge Dorsett (Karin Dor) in danger as the bodies pile up.
Splitting the action between the ostensibly English architecture of Schloß Blackmoor and the Old Scavenger Inn where hostess Judy (Ingmar Zeisberg) keeps Inspector Jeff Mitchell (Harry Riebauer) on the back foot and with Oskar Sala’s unusual soundtrack adding to the strangeness, the film is one of the best in the set, though the apparently limited lung capacity of the victims does seem to be a factor in facilitating swift asphyxiation.
Moving in a more immediately Gothic direction, Der Henker von London (known as The Mad Executioners, but more correctly The Executioner of London) again sees Scotland Yard baffled, Inspector Morel Smith (Wolfgang Preiss, Dr Mabuse himself) furious that a rope stolen from their museum has been used in the hanging of men believed to be responsible for crimes but unprosecuted, a panel of hooded men serving as judges, jury and executioners.
Directed by Edwin Zbonek from a script by Robert A. Stemmle and released in late 1963, there are parallels with Horrors of the Black Museum, but despite the twists and the flair it is less than the sum of its parts, the ostentatious horse-drawn funeral carriage of the cabal unlikely to go unnoticed in London, the police particularly inept and the payoff rushed as the parallel plotlines are tied together in an untidy knot.
Again directed by Zbonek from a script by Stemmle, Das Ungeheuer von London-City (The Monster of London City) was released in the summer of 1964, seeing Hansjörg Felmy as actor Richard Sand, appearing in a play inspired by the murders of Jack the Ripper three-quarters of a century before, a play the father of his girlfriend Ann Morlay (Marianne Koch) wishes to use his influence in Parliament to close when copycat killings begin in the city.
Sand himself the prime suspect, propmaster Horrlick (Walter Pfeil) has access to weapons and a criminal record and director Maylor (Kurd Pieritz) welcomes any publicity, while Sir George (Fritz Tillmann) conspicuously dresses the same as the killer on his nocturnal expeditions, but despite the visual style, the victims engulfed and consumed by the shadow of their unidentified stalker, the comedic tone intended to leaven the darkness is awkward.
Closing the set, Das siebente Opfer (The Seventh Victim, presented here under its alternative title of The Racetrack Murders) is directed by Gottlieb from his own adaptation of Bryan Edgar Wallace’s novel Murder is Not Enough, released in November 1964 and opening with a jockey being thrown from his horse, the first of many bizarre deaths which plague the family of Sir John Mont (Walter Rilla).
A prominent judge who has sent many criminals to prison or the gallows, his sister Lady Jenny Stratford (Alice Treff) looks down on it as a shocking inconvenience first when they are forced to curtail the party planned that evening, the affront amplified when a member of the band is murdered; she has no comment to make when she is pushed from the top of the stairs.
The bold titles reeking of sixties style, the film is a change of direction, the humour pervasive but savvy rather than slapstick, and well written, acted and staged it is another high point of Terror in the Fog box even if it does at times resemble a particularly grotesque Jilly Cooper with betting, revenge and blackmail amidst the killings by snake, pitchfork and harpoon gun and managing a shocking final twist.
All five films presented in 2K restorations of the original film elements as well as a sixth film in standard definition, Gottlieb’s Das Phantom von Soho (The Phantom of Soho) of 1964, all are supported by newly recorded audio commentaries and additional features include a new interview with’ CCC’s Alice Brauner and a video essay on the krimi genre and its influence on giallo and American slashers by Alexandra Heller-Nicholas.
Terror in the Fog will be available on Blu-ray from Eureka from Monday 26th May
