I am not a Roger Corman aficionado, but I’ve seen a few Corman directorial and/or production efforts over the years, with Creature from the Haunted Sea (1961) being the last, which both horrified and made my Arts Editor and I laugh, so recently going into The Tomb of Ligeia (1964) , my main concern was lasting long enough to make an honest effort of writing the review.
Was I ever wrong.
At first, I was willing to give Vincent Price all the credit for the initial willingness to continue on. But as we made it further into the jungle of the plot, we had to admit that this film was hitting on just about all cylinders: an intriguing story (why does the coffin have a glass plate? Wait, why did the corpse open her eyes just then?) about a man and, more importantly, his wife, who considers herself his wife even when she’s dead, and how this can really creep everyone out; excellent acting from the entire cast, including the (uncredited) black cat; filmed quite nicely on location at a gorgeous English ruin, with creative cinematography. I particularly enjoyed Roger’s work with flames, with the last sequence making me think of the fires of Hell.
However, the special effects that made the black cat into some sort of supernatural demon were horrible, as I think they resorted to getting a stuffed black cat and throwing it at the actors with abandon. And it must be said that this movie does not have an up-tempo ending, as a remake might indulge in today. It’s very measured, building on anticipation, relaxing, then creating the tension again. It’s an older style that might bore a younger, inexperienced audience, but delight those who’ve studied story-telling and appreciate this relative rarity. But then, the film is based on a short work by Edgar Allen Poe, so we would expect a high level of craft from the plot. And this retelling of the story does not disappoint.
The climax was unforeseen and quite invigorating, as Vincent dances through fire once and again, a puppet to his wife’s needs. Who will live, who will die? Will Vincent once again burn, as in The Fall of the House of Usher (1960)? But what terrible deed did he commit in this one to deserve such a fate? And isn’t there any legal recourse attached to the vow of “until death do us part”?
If you like Vincent Price, see this. He does some fine work.
(With Deb White)
