Yeah, this blog generally covers movies, what with Kinematographically focused, but i hadn't added a review in a few days and had this one lying around. Sue me. No don't. Or, yeah, waste your time if you like, i've got sod all.
Ghoulish goings on gratis from Gatiss
As a long-time fan of British horror of the golden age, from the 1950s
to the 1970s, i have always has a special fondness for the
'portmanteau' form of storytelling. Usually comprising three to five
short stories interlinked by a framing story, this device was well used
by Amicus films in such gems as "Asylum", "The House That Dripped
Blood" and "From Beyond the Grave".
This BBC Christmas offering from a couple of years ago revived the
format that has, i suppose, lain dormant since '80s US revivals such as
"Creepshow" and "Tales from the Darkside". Written by actor and writer
Mark Gatiss - no slouch when it comes to knowledge of the sinister side
of the silver screen as his "History of Horror" documentaries proved -
this tells us three tales involving the history of the sinister Geap
Manor, relayed by a sinister museum curator (Gatiss) to a schoolteacher
(Lee Ingleby).
The first story is set in one of Gatiss' favourite historical periods
(at least going by League of Gentleman sketches and his Doctor Who
story "Phantasmagoria"): Georgian Regency England. Philip Jackson plays
the vile Bloxham, a mercenary capitalist who gets his comeuppance when
his cherished new wainscoting turns out to be made from the wood of
Tyburn gibbet and inhabited by the restless souls of hanged men. This
story generates a nice period atmosphere, helped by supporting
performances from Julian Rhind-Tutt and Andy Nyman, but not very much
fear despite the best efforts of Jackson and the sound designer - going
for a "The Haunting" type approach that sadly fails to come off.
The second story as far superior, some 1920s set whimsy at a party full
of Waughian "Vile Bodies"-style Bright Young Things that slowly creeps
into a tale of hushed family secrets, betrayal, and vengeance from
beyond the grave. The legendary Jean Marsh, no stranger to the time of
Charlestons and "Topping, what-what", appears as the grand dame of the
family. I must confess, however, that my own attention was distracted
somewhat by the gorgeous Anna Madeley as the haughty and snooty
Katherine in her Cleopatra outfit. Ding dong, filly.
The closing tale of this trilogy of terror is a continuation of the
wraparound story, as Ingleby's character finds his antique doorknocker,
having once adorned the threshold of Geap Manor, has turned the doorway
of his suburban Barratt Home into a portal into the past. Ingleby's
growing sense of fear and panic as the tale wears on is almost
palpable, and when the horrific Abomination appears in his front hall,
crouched in the shadows before advancing like a Fuseli nightmare sprung
to life, genuinely managed to spook this veteran of horror.
While the
revelation of the true nature of Gatiss' "caretaker" character and the
twist ending are quite workoutable (is that a word? It should be), it
is, as always, the journey that is important rather than the final
destination.
A cold collation to chill the cockles at Christmastime.
