The Snake Woman
The village of Bellingham on the bleak moors of Northumberland in November 1890, the turn of the century and the villagers cling to the old ways, suspicious of herpetologist Horace Addison and his collection of reptiles which he observes and studies to the exclusion of all else, a man obsessed with his work and convinced the therapy he has forced on his bedridden pregnant wife has improved her condition.
Her insanity “cured” by regular injections of snake venom, superstitious midwife Aggie Harker is convinced the baby is evil, born cold and with staring eyes, her proof that Martha died the moment she first saw her own child who was then taken and hidden by Doctor Murton moments before the villagers arrived to burn down the house, the child almost forgotten for twenty years other than in the fearful tales of the locals.
Released in 1961 and running to just over an hour of monochrome mystery and ophidiophobia, The Snake Woman was directed by Doctor Blood’s Coffin’s Sidney J Furie in only six days using many of the same crew and released in some territories as the opener on a double bill with that marginally more prestigious production which had the advantages of a contemporary setting, a larger budget and being shot in colour.
Also known as The Terror of the Snake Woman, somewhat overselling the presence of reclusive nocturnal Atheris (Susan Travers), at the request of Colonel Clyde Wynborn (Geoffrey Denton), a veteran of India where he witnessed many snake bites, Scotland Yard sends Charles Prentice (John McCarthy) north to investigate the high rate of deaths from venomous bites, focused on facts but swiftly capitulating when Aggie (Elsie Wagstaff) demands a symbolic doll is destroyed.
Atheris the wronged innocent, an ethereal victim of pre-natal malpractice hounded from birth and abandoned for two decades in the care of a shepherd when Doctor Murton (Arnold Marlé) left for Africa the following morning without checking on her, despite the supposed authority of his position Prentice’s sympathy for her lacks any standing as he stumbles through the murky woods improvising Bizet’s Carmen on a borrowed pungi.
Orville H Hampton’s script offering little in the way of action beyond the opening scenes, largely characters repeating folk tales instilled in them rather than debating any rational theories, the mob who burned the house down led by the local constable and barkeep certainly not held in any way responsible, Hammer’s new 2K restoration of The Snake Woman is supported by a commentary by Heidi Honeycutt and Sarah Morgan, an image gallery and the original trailer.
The Snake Woman is available on Blu-ray from Hammer now
