2026 marks the 140^th anniversary of the Gothic novella, Strange Case of Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde, written by Robert Louis Stevenson. First published in 1886, initially in the US and days later in the UK, it became an almost instant success selling about 40 thousand copies within six months of hitting the shelves.

To celebrate the anniversary of Stevenson’s mini-masterpiece we’re peering into its origins and taking a whistlestop tour of the four Hammer productions it inspired, each of the quartet as different as, well, Jekyll and Hyde.

On a fateful night in 1885, the American writer Fanny Stevenson was woken up by the anguished cries of her sleeping husband. ‘Thinking he had a nightmare,’ she later recalled, ‘I awakened him. He said angrily: “Why did you wake me? I was dreaming a fine bogey tale.” I had awakened him at the first transformation scene.’

Her husband, of course, was the Scottish author, Robert Louis Stevenson, and her memory of this dramatic event has led many to assume Jekyll and Hyde came to him in a dream. To be fair, the assumption is partially true. In A Chapter on Dreams, first published in 1888, he stated he’d very much wanted to write about ‘…that strong sense of man’s double being which must at times come in upon and overwhelm the mind of every thinking creature… For two days I went about racking my brains for a plot of any sort; and on the second night I dreamed the scene at the window, and a scene afterward split in two, in which Hyde, pursued for some crime, took the powder and underwent the change in the presence of his pursuers.’

However, he crucially added, ‘All the rest was made awake, and consciously…’

Eddie Izzard as one of Stevenson’s most famous creations, Doctor Jekyll.

Fanny’s influence on the story was profound and after she read early versions of key passages, she urged her husband to make the work more allegorical to help it transcend the status of mere story. The oft-repeated claim that he immediately burnt what he’d already written to begin anew, bearing in mind her criticism, and that he then scribbled down the entire novella as we now know it, in less than a week, can be considered slightly suspect.

As Steven Carver pointed out in Ainsworth and Friends, ‘…Stevenson’s correspondence shows that Jekyll and Hyde was written over about six weeks in the autumn of 1885 for the publisher Charles Longman, who had asked Stevenson for a ‘ghost story’ for the Christmas edition of Longman’s Magazine… He’d been kicking the idea around for a couple of years by then, as well, if not longer…’

It turned out the Christmas of 1885 was chocka with scary stories, so J&H was held over until the new year, finally released in early January. The initial trade reaction was lukewarm with many shops declining to stock it. A positive review in The Times on 25 January, 1886 changed everything and the book, appropriately enough, was transformed. This slim volume, born of a nightmare, swiftly became a publishing triumph and ultimately, a cultural phenomenon.

In 1887 the first official stage adaptation premiered in Boston, Massachusetts, crossing the pond to open in London the following year. By 1901 it was said that 250,000 copies of the book had been bought in the States alone, and at least half a dozen movie versions were produced in the first decade of the Twentieth Century. By the mid-1900s, Hammer were watching…

Bernard Bresslaw, who came so close to playing ‘The Creature’ in The Curse of Frankenstein, seen here as Henry in The Ugly Duckling.

In the 1950s Hammer redefined horror with The Curse of Frankenstein (1957) and Dracula (1958), two films based on seminal works of nineteenth century Gothic literature. So, the studio’s decision to produce a take on Stevenson’s tale was hardly unexpected. In fact, some might have called it inevitable. The surprise came with the genre chosen to accommodate the re-telling, and producer Michael Carreras’s claim that theirs represented the obvious narrative choice. In a November,1958 edition of The Kinematograph Weekly, he stated Hammer’s adaptation, The Ugly Duckling (1959), was, ‘A tailor made subject for Bernard Bresslaw. We believe it will be one of the year’s funniest comedies.’

A venerated, old classic that explored issues as deep as id, ego and superego, Darwinism, duality and even Scottish nationalism was going to play for the lolz. Who saw that coming?

To be fair, director Lance Comfort fully commits to the comedy brief with even the opening titles refusing to take themselves seriously. ‘Story by Sid Colin,’ the text informs us, followed by the honest acknowledgment: ‘With ideas stolen from Robert Louis Stevenson’.

It’s an entertaining, breezy caper of a film, although at times it feels as if it should have been a Norman Wisdom vehicle, with its underdog main character and scenes like the fashion show fiasco strongly redolent of comedies like Trouble in Store (1953). Instead, Bernard Bresslaw plays Henry Jeckle, distant relative of the ‘dastardly doctor’ in the original story. Our modern day Henry is a shy, naive and painfully inept type. Good hearted, but with all the social nous of an orangutan. He bemoans the fact that other people make jokes at his expense and we get a subtle clue to his loneliness when we see him chatting to a toy about his woes, just before hitting the hay.

When he stumbles across the notes of his ‘great-great-great grandfather’ we can be pretty certain what’s about to unfold, especially as Jekyll’s writings reveals he believes a ‘bold, wild and fearless’ person dwells in even the timidest individual. Sure enough, Jeckle recreates the notorious potion, has a quick slurp and metamorphizes into ‘Teddy Hide’, a roguishly attractive tough guy who inadvertently begins wreaking revenge on those who’ve previously wronged him.

Aside from all this alter ego shenanigans, there’s more than one romantic subplot thrown in, plus a heist, social friction between youth and the establishment, and just in case that wasn’t enough, a coming-of-age parable. In the end (is a spoiler alert really necessary?) our hero is transformed, but not by his ancestor’s chemical cocktail. Henry’s love interest tells him, ‘You can do anything Teddy Hide can do! Don’t you see that when you were Teddy Hide, that was you!’ He finally twigs! Thus emboldened, Henry foils the crooks, gets the girl and a sense of rhythm, literally dancing his way off screen as the credits roll.

Bernard Bresslaw as Henry’s alternative self – the menacing Mr Hide.

Upon its release, some reviewers were decidedly sniffy. As if under oath, The Monthly Film Bulletin conceded it was, ‘moderately amusing’, whilst The Daily Cinema complained the comedy was, ‘Little more than a peg on which to hang a series of slapstick gags’, which feels a little like castigating Citizen Kane (1941) for being little more than a peg on which to hang the story of a fictitious media baron. Yes, to an extent it is, but that’s the whole point. The Ugly Duckling is happy enough to reel off obvious gags, (‘Let’s just say he isn’t himself tonight,’ Henry’s brother ruefully reflects at one point) and relentlessly exploit the concept of self-transformation for comic effect.

Contemporary critics have been kinder and more aware of the film’s aims. For example, Rachel Bellwoar called it, ‘A horror comedy that balances jokes with scares’, praised its ‘warmth’ and saluted the leading man. ‘What immediately sticks out about Bresslaw’s performance is how sincere he plays it,’ she noted in a recent review. ‘Instead of going for laughs, the humor comes from empathizing with his predicament, and there’s an immediate kinship with his character.’

Would Stevenson have approved? Who knows? But who cares? This little zinger has the great Jon Pertwee on fine form as Victor Hyde, an underdog-triumphing-against-the-odds narrative plus a cool (or ‘cold’ as Henry would say…) score that even includes bursts of James Bernard’s Dracula theme. What’s not to love?

Yes, this Henry Jeckle is leagues away from literature’s Henry Jekyll, but to (almost) quote Carry On Screaming (1966), the change did him good…

Even before The Ugly Duckling swam into cinemas during the long, hot summer of ’59, Hammer had announced they were making a ‘straight’ adaptation of Strange Case of Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde. This turned out to be The Two Faces of Dr. Jekyll (1960), known in the US as House of Fright.

Set in roughly the same period as the source material, this feels much more faithful to it, although after The Ugly Duckling, anything even further removed from the novella would have been difficult to imagine. And in fact, despite the setting and seriousness of The Two Faces of Dr. Jekyll, it’s light years away from the original tale. Stevenson’s work is primarily a gothic mystery; this adaptation, directed by Terence Fisher, emerges as a horror/thriller with a higher body count, racier subplots and considerably less interest in the metaphysical musings that Stevenson gave so much time to.

It goes without saying that this second stab at Jekyll & Hyde feels much more of a Hammer film. If you’re after an adaptation of a Victorian classic that adds murders, killer snakes, extramarital affairs and an exotic dance sequence that gives Goldfinger (1964) a run for its money, this is the flick for you. It’s even got a pre-lycanthropic Oliver Reed, and Christopher Lee, for once in a Hammer horror playing a roguish but sincere (‘I don’t deserve you, Kitty!’) peach of a character. He later revealed the role of Paul Allen had been one of his favourites and he excels as the velvet-voiced cad. Terence Fisher’s direction is as sure-footed as ever, and as critic Richard Scheib observed, ‘The Hammer production team are certainly on good form.’

The script was by BAFTA-winner Wolf Mankowitz, a versatile writer who could turn his hand to seemingly anything. James Bond screenplays? Check. A magical novel about Petticoat Lane’s working-class community? Check – in the form of A Kid for Two Farthings. Poetry, journalism and (wait for it) a musical based on the life of Doctor Crippen? Check, check, check. Little wonder Richard Burton considered him to be, ‘A Renaissance man’ and novelist Anthony Burgess hailed Mankowitz, ‘A sort of East End [James] Joyce.’

His script for The Two Faces of Dr. Jekyll ensures a full-throated horror that has vibes of two Hammer productions Fisher had completed the previous year - The Man Who Could Cheat Death (1959) and to a lesser extent, The Hound of the Baskervilles (1959). On its release, Variety delivered a positive review, praising Paul Massie for his eponymous dual role, and singling out cinematographer Jack Asher for his ‘colorful and sure’ camerawork.

The After Movie Diner was spot on when calling the film, ‘a lot of fun’ and wryly commented, ‘…the thing about The Two Faces of Dr. Jekyll is you can’t help admire a Jekyll and Hyde story that makes Hyde the handsome leading man.’

And so for the second time, Hammer produced a work that Stevenson would have had trouble recognising, but again, it could be argued that doesn’t really matter when the adaptation in question is so engrossing. As Films from Beyond the Time Barrier declared, ‘Hammer's master craftsman Terence Fisher directs a typically sumptuous looking production… [and] Paul Massie chews the scenery outrageously as Hyde, but then, if ever there was a character that called for scenery-chewing, this is it.’

Hammer paid a third house call to Doctor Jekyll in the 70s, creating the iteration that most people are familiar with, Dr. Jekyll and Sister Hyde (1971). In 2010 its writer, Brian Clemens, was a surprise guest at a British film festival, and a Cine-Excess review of the event included the eye-catching info that, ‘…Clemens revealed that Dr Jekyll and Sister Hyde started as a joke to Hammer executives; asked if he would like to meet to develop the ‘joke’ the following week, Clemens was stunned to find the completed artwork adorning the elevator, promoting the film he had yet to write!’

Say what you like about Hammer execs, they had a nose for great material and Clemens’s light-hearted suggestion evolved into one of the studio’s best-known and widely enjoyed movies. If one word could be said to encapsulate it, that word must be audacious. Brian Horace Clemens was one of the creatives who gave the world Captain Kronos, Bodie and Doyle, and Joanna Lumley’s iconic Purdey. He even recalled co-writing Hot Ice, the pilot episode of a little show called The Avengers. All of which tells us he had a knack of generating characters and universes that never felt real, but always felt exciting and must-see.

Clemens specialised in stories that conjured up the fantastic, the heroic and the thrilling, yet there was nothing whimsical about his approach. Indeed, asked about working with Hammer during an interview with Wheeler Winston Dixon, his first response illustrates his pragmatism. ‘It was fine,’ he recalled, adding pointedly, ‘as long as you stayed on schedule…’

The central conceit of Dr. Jekyll and Sister Hyde is that Henry Jekyll (Ralph Bates) transforms into Edwina Hyde (Martine Beswick), but there’s much more to it than gender fluidity. This macabre piece of horror tells a story which – credit where it’s due – involves Stevenson’s central idea but also incorporates the search for an ‘elixir of life’, the Whitechapel murders and even (gleefully unseated from their actual time), the real-life serial killers, Burke and Hare. Some posters promised audiences, ‘Shock after Shock after Shock!’ and another simply announced, ‘Hammer Strikes Again’. Both straplines feel equally fair.

‘City ordinance 132R prohibits begging…’

The casting of Jekyll and Hyde helps make the premise work without ever becoming jarring. Talking to Fangoria about the film, director Roy Ward Baker admitted, ‘Nobody realised how much Ralph and Martine looked alike until they arrived on the set. It certainly helped to externalize Jekyll’s narcissism.’ But aside from her appearance, Beswick’s nuanced and thoughtful approach pays dividends, and she clearly had a positive view of the adaptation’s narrative core. ‘The picture had a very interesting premise,’ she opined in Filmfax. ‘…the male and female in each of us. I was serious about what I was doing.’

Pretty much everyone plays it straight in Dr. Jekyll and Sister Hyde meaning even the most outrageous plot points pass muster. Variety was impressed: ‘…Roy Ward Baker has set a good pace, built tension nicely and played it straight so that all seems credible. He tops chills and gruesome murders with quite a lot of subtle fun.’ The publication even added, ‘Bates and Beswick, strong, attractive personalities, bear a strange resemblance to each other making the transitions entirely believable.’

Entirely believable? Maybe that was pushing it, but the accolade speaks volumes of the central performances and the director’s ingenuity.

As with all the best Hammer horrors, it mortified the British Board of Film Censors (BBFC) who didn’t mince words when expressing their disapproval. One comment read, ‘this is clearly disgusting and should be removed,’ but after some light edits, the board’s Secretary, Stephen Murphy, passed it as an X, and on 7 November, 1971 it was released alongside Blood from the Mummy’s Tomb (1971).

Decades later, it continues to enthral. Writing for Frame Rated in 2018, Frank Collins summed up the feelings of many: ‘Though it may not have been a financial success, Dr Jekyll and Sister Hyde remains a witty and insouciant concoction.’

‘…thanks to some brilliant acting and a great script, Doctor Jekyll is a rollicking brilliant time.’ – Sarah Cook, HeyUGuys

Hammer’s most recent return to the Strange Case came in the form of Doctor Jekyll (2023), directed by Joe Stephenson, written by Dan Kelly-Mulhern and starring Eddie Izzard as the central character, or characters, depending on your point of view. It’s typical of the studio insofar as it’s an atmospheric, scary movie with great performances all round. A production that seeks primarily to entertain.

‘We’re dealing with someone with two personalities’ director Joe Stephenson reasoned. ‘So, isn’t it fun to engage the audience in a game of, Wait! Who am I talking to? Is one pretending to be the other? And not quite knowing until the big reveal…’

Doctor Jekyll may be one of the most imaginative retellings of the original novella, but it’s not the movie many expected. ‘It’s a trans version of it [Strange Case of Doctor Jekyll and Mr Hyde],’ Izzard explained at the premiere, ‘but that isn’t actually the thing. The character just happens to be trans, and I happen to be a trans person. But it’s more the fact, when they change from Jekyll to Hyde, you can’t tell… Normally they’ll be a massive change and they look like completely different people… I deliberately decided not to look through all the different versions, [but to] just read the story and take my imagination from that…’

The film had its world premiere at FrightFest on 25 August, 2023 and was released in the UK two months later, on the eve of Hallowe’en. Critics were quick to appreciate the work, with The iPaper enthusing, ‘Eddie Izzard is magnetic and menacing in this revamped Hammer Horror... first as the kindly, elegant doctor with a secret agenda, and then as her grandiose, whisky-loving, evil alter-ego Hyde.’

Empire agreed, calling Izzard ‘great value’ and noting the work’s ‘thundering melodrama score’.

As a relatively recent release we’ll avoid spoilers for this one, except to say, expect twists, expect scares and expect to be entertained.

Whilst The Ugly Duckling was in production, Hammer supremo James Carreras spoke to The Daily Cinema and was open about his organisation’s way of doing things. ‘We make exploitable pictures,’ he commented, meaning the films they produced were there to be enjoyed by audiences everywhere. Over 60 years later that credo remained intact, as Doctor Jekyll’s director acknowledged during its launch: ‘We are having fun here!’ he declared. ‘We have this ‘wink’ to the camera that perhaps other Jekylls haven’t… We wanted to have fun, and so hopefully it’s a popcorn movie that you can go [and see] and have a laugh, have a scare and have a jump!’

And so this Strange Case lives on, in hundreds of iterations including four from Hammer that continue to bring excited dread and delight. The story may have started with Robert Louis Stevenson having a nightmare, but for filmmakers and audiences ever since, it’s been an absolute dream.

Dr. Jekyll And Sister Hyde is available on Blu-ray and comes with the featurette, Ladykiller: Inside Dr Jekyll And Sister Hyde. You can order a copy now.

Doctor Jekyll is also available and boasts a raft of additional material including a commentary with Joe Stephenson and actor Scott Chambers, a number of sequences not featured in the final cut and Hammer A.D. 2023, a special programme that looks back across Hammer’s extraordinary legacy. You can pick up the release from the online store.

It also comes with a featurette in which composer Blair Mowat discusses that ‘thundering’ score for Doctor Jekyll and his love of classic Hammer Horror soundtracks. Talking of which, the Limited Edition Doctor Jekyll Coloured Vinyl LP – Exclusive to Hammer Films – is also available now!

Want more music? Simply head on over to Hammer’s online store and check out all the latest releases!