(It turns out to be a dream sequence.) An actress writhes topless in a very ’60s, over-the-top go-go dance/strip tease.
Karloff later plays a funny scene in which he addresses the camera and spouts pseudo-scientific mumbo-jumbo. His employees Helga (Isela Vega), a rigid psychologist, and Roland (Yerye Beirute), a dimwitted expediter, have other ideas.Ĭomments: Karloff is an octogenarian Hjalmer Poelzig in the devil-cult scenes. But when one of the girls is killed - and the rock grows tentacles - Mantell seeks to terminate the operation. He also stages fake devil-cult human-sacrifice ceremonies to further frighten the girls. The rock thrives on blood from young women in the throes of terror, so naturally, Mantell and his staff - a curious mix of serious scientists and unsavory characters - create a “fear chamber” made of skeletons, snakes, bugs, blood baths and psychedelic lights in order to terrorize girls coaxed via phony job interviews. Synopsis: Elderly scientist Karl Mantell (Karloff) acquires a living rock that he believes holds, and can communicate, many secrets from the center of the Earth. Right: “Fear Chamber.” Note the tilted cross behind Karloff in both scenes. I did see it in the ’80s, but all I remember is a pretty blonde and the fact that a spaceship set was repurposed from the ornate mausoleum in “House of Evil.”) My thoughts, and research, follow.ĭevil cult scenes were in Karloff’s cinematic lineage. (Unfortunately, I don’t own a copy of “The Incredible Invasion.” Yet. (putting “Snake People” in a category with “Gone With the Wind,” “The Ten Commandments” and “The Sound of Music”). (Not Churubusco-Azteca? Aww.) “Isle of the Snake People” credits “general wardrobe” to the legendary Western Costume Co. They were co-written by Hill (in English) and producer Luis Enrique Vergara (the mastermind behind the whole scheme, whose 1971 death further slowed the films’ releases).Īccording to end credits on at least three of the films, the Hollywood scenes were shot at Dored Studios, and the Mexican scenes at Estudios America. The Mexican Karloffs were co-directed by Jack Hill (Karloff’s scenes) and Juan Ibanez (the followup in Mexico City), though Hill is not always officially credited. (I say “another” because Karloff passed a lot of torches in his final 10 years onscreen.)
Sometimes Karloff had the opportunity to burnish his stature as the screen’s bogeyman, such as in this chilling scene in “House of Evil.”ĭare I say, it feels like, in its small way, another passing of the torch. Script translations appear to have been carefully executed. And Karloff’s dialogue and delivery jibes with that of his (obviously dubbed) fellow cast members. We really are hearing Karloff’s distinct, mellifluous voice (unlike in his disappointing Italian excursion of 1955, “Il Mostro dell’Isola”). Thorough planning was clearly involved.Īlso, with Karloff speaking English and the rest of the cast speaking Mexican Spanish, you would expect some awkward, lost-in-translation exchanges. After all, the films were finished in Mexico City sets, lighting and even the Mexican actors’ appearances could have been much different between the Hollywood- and Mexico-shot scenes.
One might expect a patch-quilt, “Plan 9” flow. It beat sitting home with his aches and pains.Īnother nice surprise is that the films actually have decent continuity. As a result, four more titles were added to the 150-plus films of his 50-year-old filmography. Hey, the man wanted to work, and the Mexicans wanted him. Left: “Fear Chamber.” Right: “House of Evil.” The ancient, ill Karloff got near pyro and flames in these pre-CGI films. Flames surrounds him in the “House of Evil” climax. All kinds of dazzling pyro happens around him in one “Fear Chamber” scene, as he works calmly at a computer. It’s surprising how close the old man got to fire and pyrotechnics in these pre-CGI films. Karloff looks much healthier, and occasionally has better lines, than in his previous film, 1968’s “The Crimson Cult.” And, he’s getting around better there’s no wheelchair in these movies. Karloff is ancient and ill, unquestionably, but also energetic, charming, sometimes funny and, in a scene or two, he gets to burnish his stature as the screen’s bogeyman. Forgive the rough edges (and, yes, the occasional unintentional chuckles), and these can be darned okay horror films. But they should not be summarily dismissed. Granted, the movies have some weirdnesses owing to their production and budget challenges. If you ask me, that’s an easy, knee-jerk reaction. It’s usually said that the so-called “Mexican Karloffs” are awful and laughable. By Mark Voger, author, “Monster Mash: The Creepy, Kooky Monster Craze in America 1957-1972”Ī look at the final four movies of horror icon Boris Karloff, filmed for a Mexican studio less than a year before his death.
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