Tuesday, August 23, 2011

Horrors of the Black Museum (1959)

Pretty woman receives a pair of binoculars as a gift from an anonymous admirer. When she puts them to her eyes, metal spikes spring out and pierce her brain. We all scream in horror as we watch ... her friend scream in horror.

Police are stumped by the murders. The foppish Bancroft (Michael Gough) and his curly haired boyfriend enjoy lording over the police with their haughty, condescending attitudes. It seems Bancroft is a murder writer and the killings make great fodder for his work. He has his own subterranean dungeon replete with implements of torture. I wonder ...

The culprit (whoever that is) starts having to commit murders not for his writing career (if that's what he, or she, did for a living) but to cover his (or her) tracks. When his (or her) girlfriend gets mouthy he (or she) is left with no alternative but to ... ok, ok, Alfred the Butler is the murderer. There, I said it. Not that it was much of a mystery.

Despite having the same Victorian feel as The Fly, Horrors is set in the modern day. Unlike The Fly, it has no staying power. The first of the murders is the most clever and there are few mysteries for the viewer to unravel. I suppose I'm glad I watched it. The production quality wasn't bad but was a little boring in parts. I'll be a little generous. AMRU 3.
"No woman can hold her tongue. They're a vicious, unreliable breed!"

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