Hammer House of… Christmas
There’s a rich tradition of Yuletide horror movies, stretching back to cinema’s silent era and classics like Körkarlen (1921), a remarkably pacy Swedish production that still retains the power to chill.
And although It’s a Wonderful Life (1946) is often pigeon-holed as a piece of seasonal sentimentality, there’s a definite sense of horror to what its hero, George Bailey, endures - trapped in a bleak, alternative world where his brother drowned in childhood and his friends and family are consigned to lives of unimaginable hardship. Look at the lingering close-ups director Frank Capra gives us of James Stewart’s face, forcing the audience to share his terror and disbelief as he reels from his holiday in hell. It may be sugar-coated, but it’s horror.
So, what does Hammer bring to the (Christmas) party?
‘He's one of those rare fellows who have the ability to make the air move around them.’ – Orson Welles on Oliver Reed
The Curse of the Werewolf (1961) is one of the studio’s few films to exploit Christmas as a plot point, although as you’d expect, it’s not exactly Love, Actually. In most stories, a child being born on December 25th would offer a source of delight. In The Curse of the Werewolf, giving birth on Christmas Day invokes an ancient hex that means the baby, Leon, will become a lycanthrope. For added tragedy, his mother dies before she can hold him, and he evolves into a secret shapeshifter even before hitting his teens.
If you feel guilty for over-indulging this Christmas, spare a thought for young Leon. ‘I picked it up and tried to kiss it better,’ the toddler tells his uncle, recounting an incident involving an injured squirrel, ‘…I kissed it, and I tasted something warm. It must have been the blood, but it tasted sweet. I wanted to keep on tasting it… I did wrong, didn’t I, uncle?’
The BFI praised Reed’s performance as one of ‘masterful brooding intensity’
Directed by Hammer favourite Terence Fisher, the film (the first werewolf movie shot in colour) has a lot going for it. Oliver Reed is on scowling, howling and growling duties in this, his debut big screen starring role. But he quietly delivers in terms of Leon’s inner turmoil and profound sorrow.
The script is by ‘John Elder’, a nom de plume of Anthony ‘Tony’ Hinds, a powerhouse of a producer and a prolific writer who was one of Hammer Film Productions’ driving forces throughout the 50s and 60s. He ensures The Curse of the Werewolf zips along and delivers a great finale that mixes genuine poignancy with a pleasingly old-fashioned ‘angry-peasants-chasing-the-monster’ climax that Universal Pictures specialised in throughout the 1930s.
Catherine Feller as the good-hearted, but ultimately forlorn, Cristina.
But if that feels a little grim for festive viewing, a taut crime thriller with unexpected heart may be worth considering…
Cash on Demand (1961) is not only one of Hammer’s most underrated films, it boasts one of the studio’s most underrated villains. Played by André Morell (here credited as Andre Morell), Colonel Gore Hepburn is a professional thief who very nearly steals every scene he’s in. Like many memorable screen antagonists, from Harry Lime to Hannibal Lecter, Hepburn is an out-and-out criminal, but his charisma, kindness and humour prove seductive. He’s likeable. We warm to him much more than we do to Peter Cushing’s Harry Fordyce, a man so prim, so self-important, so cruel to his staff, that he makes his fellow fictional bank manager, Captain Mainwaring, look like a genial, laid-back loafer.
As Cushing observed, ‘I don't mean he’s evil, he is simply a martinet, a man who lacks charity and warmth.’
Morell and Cushing on irresistible form in Cash on Demand.
The story is a simple one. Two days before Christmas, ‘Colonel’ Gore Hepburn cons his way into Fordyce’s inner sanctum, pretending to be from ‘head office’. He soon proves he’s holding the manager’s wife and son hostage, revealing that failure to comply with his wishes will have nasty consequences for both of them. Fordyce is mortified, but goes along with the Colonel’s commands because, as he movingly admits towards the end of proceedings, ‘My family are all I’ve got. I have no friends. Nobody…They’re all I’ve got!’
It’s debatable whether the audience cares about the money Hepburn is hoping to lift. But it’s hard not to care about the relationship the two main characters are locked in. How it develops and how it changes Fordyce are central to the film’s appeal.
Leonard Maltin called the film, ‘…a taut, well-acted British thriller that stands out due to its clever plot, minimal violence, and strong performances’.
That’s partly because Cash on Demand is essentially Hammer’s A Christmas Carol. Fordyce is Scrooge, a mean and miserly banker who has no interest in festive cheer or offering any outward show of humanity. Early on he chastises a staff member for having a cluster of Christmas cards on her desk (‘Miss Pringle, do you feel it really necessary to make such a display of your popularity?’), threatens to end a subordinate’s career during the season of goodwill, and it’s clear the prospect of him attending the office party is as remote as his branch offering zero per cent interest on loans over a fiver.
Fordyce’s first appearance has vague echoes of the door knocker scene in A Christmas Carol.
Even Dickens’s portrait of Scrooge, ‘Hard and sharp as flint… secret, and self-contained’ could be a description of Cushing’s Fordyce when we first encounter him.
Gore Hepburn is the Ghost of Christmas Past, Present and Future rolled into one. He seems to know everything about everyone’s personal history (‘Sanderson… Of course! You were runner-up in the regional chess competition…’), possesses an intimate knowledge of matters as they stand, including Fordyce’s familial issues, and displays a detailed awareness of the way things will presumably pan out.
Even his name, Hepburn, means ‘high burial ground’ which hints at something as spectral as Dickens’s three spirits. Tellingly, his presence alone, even before his villainy is uncovered, disturbs Fordyce as much as any ghost ever could. Director Quentin Lawrence treats us to several wonderful reaction shots showing the previously unflappable bank manager thoroughly ruffled by the stranger’s innate command.
He may be there on the take, but Hepburn is happy to give, dropping pearls of wisdom relating to generosity and the value of appreciating others. The twists in the final act are underplayed but appropriate. Fordyce never asks for his staff’s forgiveness, yet there’s redemption and a sense of rapprochement, of moving forward.
‘Snow had fallen, snow on snow…’
The Yuletide motifs in Cash On Demand are used sparingly but effectively by Lawrence who’d previously directed a television version of the story for ATV’s anthology series, Theatre 70. During one high tension scene where Hepburn’s scheme may be derailed, Wilfred Josephs’ unobtrusive score gives us a marvellously sinister take on The First Noel. The piece is counterpointed by a more traditional, upbeat version of the same refrain at the film’s close.
We also have a Santa with an unconvincing beard, snow that’s more of a hindrance than a pretty embellishment, and we meet a bank clerk strapped for cash because of the season’s financial demands. In short, this is a Christmas we can all relate to. Fordyce is a universally familiar figure, and his staff, with their small, earnest ambitions are known and authentic. The City and Colonial Bank (Haversham Branch) may be fictional, but we’ve all been there.
Time Out hailed it, ‘The best Sherlock Holmes film ever made, and one of Hammer's finest movies.’
Of course, films don’t have to be set at Christmas to have a Christmas feel to them. Another Hammer classic, The Hound of the Baskervilles (1959), again starring Peter Cushing and André Morell, seems perfect for the long December nights. Cushing was a fan of the source material by Arthur Conan Doyle and incorporated several touches to nudge his Holmes closer to the original. His take on the Great Detective is dour but compelling, and he reprised the role for the BBC and much later, inThe Masks of Death(1984), a TV movie co-written by Anthony Hinds and directed by Hammer veteran, Roy Ward Baker.
In his fascinating book, Sherlock Holmes on Screen, Alan Barnes calls The Hound of the Baskervilles‘ …sumptuous, sweeping, hugely entertaining and beyond camp… a synthesis of many talents, swathed in a very lovely colour.’ If that doesn’t make it perfect festive fayre, what would?
Rasputin: The Mad Monk (1966) just about inches into the category of ‘Christmassy’. There’s a smattering of snow, ill-judged dancing, people foolishly drinking to excess and gifts that cost way too much, which somehow combine to make it feel like a British Christmas. Christopher Lee, who played the title role, actually met Rasputin’s daughter in 1976. ‘She was charming,’ he recalled, adding that she’d told him he shared her father’s expression. ‘I didn’t pursue that,’ he admitted, demonstrating an aptitude for diplomacy, if nothing else.
Christopher Lee as Rasputin, Russia’s greatest… You know the rest.
Want Hammer with humour? Man About the House(1974) was released 50 years ago this Christmas. A big screen version of the popular sitcom that ran from 1973-76, it features Richard O'Sullivan, Paula Wilcox and Sally Thomsett. But as with the TV original, Brian Murphy and Yootha Joyce as George and Mildred emerge as the real stars. A big hit for the studio back in the mid-70s, it’s a safe option for the after-dinner malaise hours on Christmas Day. Starburst Magazine called it, ‘…(an) entirely predictable comedy but none the worse for it.’ which feels about right.
If none of these films sets your Christmas pudding ablaze, literally dozens of other classics are available to watch now. At the online Hammer shop you’ll find DVDs, Blu-rays, CDs, LPs and even themed clothing, meaning if you’re stuck for gift ideas, this is the site to save you. And, of course, it’s the place to peruse if you fancy giving yourself a treat for getting through another year… You know you deserve it!
But whatever your plans for the festive season, stay safe, enjoy the break and have a Happy Hammer Christmas!
