FANTASIA OBSCURA: It’s Time Critics Finally Get What They Deserve! Wait, What?
There are some fantasy, science fiction, and horror films that not every fan has caught. Not every film ever made has been seen by the audience that lives for such fare. Some of these deserve another look because sometimes not every film should remain obscure.
Sometimes, it’s a real hoot when this too too solid flesh would melt, thaw and resolve itself into a dew…
Theater of Blood (1973)
Distributed by United Artists
Directed by Douglas Hickox
Never let it be said that we leave you unsatisfied here.
When we discussed The Abominable Dr. Phibes in a prior column, we mentioned that Vincent Price and A-I Pictures just could not come to terms on a third picture in that series. Frustrated, Price reached out to a few friends and colleagues and put something together to scratch the Phibes itch.
And like his inspiration doth said, to do a great right, his character did a little wrong.
Please note:
- Some of the visual materials located in this piece may be considered graphic by select readers; discretion is advised
- Unavoidable spoilers are discussed in the piece
Our film starts on March 15, 1972 (a date that becomes important as the film unspools), when George Maxwell (Michael Hordern) is summoned by constables to give a good speaking to some squatters on a property he owns. He does his part as asked by the police; the crowd turns on Maxwell and stabs him, however, as the cops just stand and watch.
As Maxwell dies, one of the officers pulls off his disguise as he recites lines from Shakespeare’s Julius Caesar, followed by Marc Anthony’s soliloquy to a decrepit theater with crazed indigents who can’t focus on the performance. The “theater manager,” who bears a close resemblance to Jeff Lynne at that time, tries to bring order as the murderous mastermind performs, to no avail.
Meanwhile, we discover that Maxwell was a member of a group of theater critics who meet regularly and together decide on the winner of the Critics Circle Award. Two years earlier, in 1970, they awarded their Best Actor award to an up-and-comer, which ticked off Edward Lionheart (Price), who had done a season of Shakespeare plays that he felt he should have won for.
Lionheart confronts the critics at the apartment of the leader of the group, Peregrine Devlin (Ian Hendry), but is snapped out of his rage by his daughter, Edwina (Diana Rigg). Confronted with critical scorn, Lionheart commits suicide, diving off the balcony into the Thames.
Then, two years after that suicide, other members of the Critics Circle end up dead. Hector Snipe (Dennis Price) is impaled on a spear and dragged by a horse, as was Hector in Trolius and Cressida. Horace Sprout (Arthur Lowe) has his head removed, the fate suffered by Cloten in Cymbeline. Trevor Dickman (Harry Andrews) loses a pound of flesh, which was supposed to happen to Antonio in The Merchant of Venice, but when you’re following a theme in order to kill a bunch of folks, sometimes you improvise.
The pattern soon leads Devlin and Inspector Booth of Scotland Yard (Milo O’Shea) to the inevitable conclusion: that Lionheart did not kill himself, but spent the last two years meticulously and carefully plotting revenge and is using the cycle of plays that he performed two years earlier to set up grisly ends for the critics that snubbed him.
Such ends include the recreating of the burning of Joan of Arc from Henry VI, Part I, which is inflicted on Chloe Moon (Coral Browne):
Followed by the close approximation of the feeding of Chiron and Demetrius to Tamora from Titus Andronicus, inflicted on Meredith Meridew (Robert Morley, right before beginning his long term as the face of British Airways in the US):
The sheer glee Price brings to the role of Lionheart just radiates off of him in every frame. Having spent most of his career being kept from doing anything considered “serious” by critics, he gets a chance to go through most of Shakespeare’s oeuvre, hitting some obscure works as well as the better-known pieces. There’s a sheer joy he takes in performing the Bard as well as the murders in this film.
Equally enjoying herself is Rigg as Edwina, Lionheart’s devoted daughter. She spends a good deal of the production playing the stage manager, passing as a man in many scenes as well as a duplicitous femme fatale in others. In fact, it’s hard to think of any other role between her Emma Peel in The Avengers and Olenna Tyrell in Game of Thrones where she looks like she’s enjoying herself as much as she does here.
Perhaps a large part of the glee comes from the general premise of the picture: that no one likes a critic. Yes, there’s a madman murdering people, but all the victims are theater critics, whose pans of the actor are quoted by him before he does them in. And as many of them are vain and haughty, and some are boozers, skirt chasers, and out-and-out neurotic to a fault, our natural tendency to dislike this group is reinforced by every actor we see enjoy their romps lampooning the critical community, taking it out on critics as much as Price and Rigg do.
Hating critics… yes, well; right then…
In the end, Theater of Blood is like a jolly party, a tribute to the Bard, and a release valve for those who felt their work in and love of genre product was looked down upon. Even today, with the decline of the professional critical community in favor of Rotten Tomatoes’ score system making the premise seem out of date, there’s a sense of satisfaction in watching the smugly pompous being done away with by a creative hand.
And such a creative hand. The great irony of the film is, Lionheart was supposed to be a bad actor because he’d never stretch himself as a thespian, and yet he perfectly takes on these roles that allow him to get in close to his victims. At least he showed enough range post mortem that maybe he was worthy of the award after all.
And if nothing else, he’s at least keeping up the motif in playing many parts in his time.
NEXT TIME: As Kurt Russell gets to be part of another genre film franchise, we look back at his earlier run in a franchise. No, not that one… earlier.
