THE WORLD OF THE VAMPIRES

 

It's classic Mexican horror time again as we visit THE WORLD OF THE VAMPIRES (original Spanish title EL MUNDO DE LOS VAMPIROS). This 1961 Gothic tale is a very effective story of the undead, with plenty of twists on the expected vampiric tropes. 

The movie details the efforts of one Count Subotai (Guillermo Murray) to get revenge on the modern descendants of the Colmans, a Hungarian family that hundreds of years ago stopped the Count's wicked depredations. Subotai (of course) resides in an old, out-of-the-way castle that happens to have huge caverns underneath, with enough room for all the various coffins belonging to the Count's personal army of the undead. (The caverns are literally Subotai's own Bat Cave.) The Count awakens these demonic looking fiends by playing mysterious tunes on his organ, a device festooned with bones and skulls (see picture above). The film's opening sequence details the Count's surroundings and his undead brood, and it's the best thing in the picture. 

The surviving members of the Colman family (who just happen to live nearby) consist of two young women, Martha (Silvia Fournier) and Leonore (Erna Martha Bauman), and their middle-aged uncle (Jose Baviera). Martha is the prim, innocent type, while Leonore is interested in the Count, who has no problem seducing her over to the dark side with his hypnotic powers. Subotai turns Leonore into a creature of the night, and has plans to do the same thing to Martha, but the young girl has a protector in musical expert Rodolfo (Mauricio Garces). Rodolfo winds up getting bitten by Leonore, but he manages to keep his wits about him for enough of a time to fight Subotai and attempt to save the rest of the Colman family. 

Many of the names involved behind the scenes of THE WORLD OF THE VAMPIRES had a long history with classic Mexican fantastic cinema. The producer was Abel Salazar, the director was Alfonso Corona Blake, and two of the writers were Alfredo Salazar (Abel's brother) and Ramon Obon. Like most of the south of the border horrors made during this period, THE WORLD OF THE VAMPIRES is set in contemporary times, but it has plenty of spooky black & white atmosphere. 

Guillermo Murray is a decent enough lead vampire, but he lacks the dynamic intensity of El Vampiro, German Robles. Speaking of Robles, one has to wonder if THE WORLD OF THE VAMPIRES was originally meant to be another El Vampiro outing (writer Ramon Obon worked on both of the films that featured that character). Murray is decked out in full Lugosi mode, but the collar on his cape is so large that it winds up being unintentionally funny. Murray gets the usual extreme close-ups of his eyes, but Erna Martha Bauman's Leonore in her vampiric state is the undead creature that the viewer remembers. Count Subotai makes a speech in which he details his plans to take over the world, which causes one to ask why, with all his undead help, he can't even properly deal with two young women and their harmless uncle. The Count also has a dimwitted mute hunchback who doesn't contribute much. 

The Colman family is assisted by Rodolfo, who not only plays the piano, but also happens to know a Transylvanian folk tune that scares off vampires! (This means that Rodolfo is more Van Cliburn than Van Helsing.) In an interesting plot element, after Rodolfo is bitten by Leonore, he becomes aware that he's slowly turning into one of the undead. Rodolfo also takes on Subotai in hand-to-hand combat--this sequence goes on so long that it resembles one of Santo's knock-out brawls. Rodolfo also gets a drag-out match with the hunchback, but it's his musical abilities that make the most difference in the climax. 

Both the Spanish and English language versions of THE WORLD OF THE VAMPIRES are available on YouTube. I wouldn't rate the film among the very best of the classic Mexican Gothics, but it's perfect late night viewing. It's also a movie that cries out for an official remastered home video release. I can imagine how fantastic Count Subotai's underground lair would look in restored HD. 

IN A COLT'S SHADOW

 

This is a 1965 Euro Western, an early example of the genre that isn't as flamboyant as later, more famous entries. I viewed a fantastic-looking uncut widescreen version of this on YouTube. 

Riding to his latest job, gun-for-hire Steve Blaine (Stephen Forsyth) proclaims that he wants to put away his gun, settle down, and become a farmer. As soon as he says this, you just know circumstances won't allow this to happen. Steve and his older partner Duke (Cornado San Martin) are tasked with defending a Mexican village from bandits. In the confrontation with the villains Duke is shot and seriously wounded, and he has to stay behind and recuperate. Steve is in love with Duke's daughter Susan (Anna Marie Polani), and he plans to use his earnings to marry the girl and buy a farm. Duke doesn't believe that Steve can quit his gun slinging ways, and warns him that if he marries Susan, he will hunt him down and kill him. Steve goes off and meets up with Susan anyway, and they travel to a town called Providence. The town is run by powerful bankers Jackson (Franco Ressel) and Burns (Franco Lantieri), and Steve immediately gets into trouble with them. Instead of leaving, Steve is determined to buy a local farm and live how he wants to with Susan, despite the efforts of Jackson & Burns to chase him away and the fact that Duke will confront him eventually. 

IN A COLT'S SHADOW is more laid back than the typical Spaghetti Western. There isn't all that much action, and the characters are not particularly outrageous or outlandish. The climatic gunfight does feature some very nasty looking falls from rooftops (the stuntmen had their work cut out for them in this sequence). Director and co-writer Giovanni Grimaldi makes nice use of the Spanish landscapes, but considering all the things that Steve is up against, the overall tone isn't very dramatic. 

Stephen Forsyth's Steve has a very clean-cut look to him for being a rugged pistolero. Forsyth actually has more of a bad guy presence than that of a leading man-hero type--he was well cast as a murderous psycho in Mario Bava's HATCHET FOR THE HONEYMOON. One wonders why Steve doesn't just leave Providence, avoid all the trouble, and take Susan somewhere else (mainly because there would be no story if he did). One also wonders why Duke is so dead set against his trusted partner marrying his daughter (Duke has plenty of opportunities to eliminate Steve in the beginning if he really was afraid he'd marry Susan). 

The supporting cast is made up of a number of actors who would become familiar faces in the Euro Western cycle. Franco Ressel would go on to play plenty of bad guys in movies like SABATA. Providence's surprisingly honest sheriff is portrayed by Jose Calvo, who was Clint Eastwood's only friend in A FISTFUL OF DOLLARS. Genre legend Aldo Sambrell makes a very brief appearance as a bandit, but he's only onscreen for less than a minute before he bites the dust. 

The sultry Euro Cult fave Helga Line makes a big impression as a saloon hostess who happens to be Duke's love interest. She also desires Steve, and her jealousy over his relationship with Susan leads her to betray the couple. Line is so striking in the role that poor Anna Marie Polani as the innocent Susan gets overwhelmed in comparison. 

Mention needs to be made of Nico Fidenco's relentless music score, because it tries to out-Morricone Morricone. The gun and horse sound effects are the same as used in A FISTFUL OF DOLLARS, and the main square of Providence is also the same used for San Miguel in Sergio Leone's breakthrough feature. 

IN A COLT'S SHADOW isn't a great Euro Western, but it's a decent enough film with some notable cast members. 

COCKEYED CAVALIERS

 

COCKEYED CAVALIERS is a 1934 RKO comedy starring Bert Wheeler & Robert Woolsey. The team of Wheeler & Woolsey were featured in a number of RKO pictures in the 1930s, but very few are familiar with the duo today. 

Wheeler & Woolsey's comedies are filled with silly puns, double entendres, and Pre-Code suggestiveness. The weirdness of the films stick out more than the duo themselves. Robert Woolsey was the more assertive of the pair, and the best way I can describe him is that he was a combination of George Burns and Groucho Marx. (Woolsey wore glasses and was almost always smoking a cigar.) Woolsey usually played a fast-talking con artist, while his partner Bert Wheeler was a naive whiny-voiced dolt who didn't really have any major personality traits, other than constantly having a puzzled expression on his face. The two often sang and performed funny dances in their outings. They managed to be popular enough to star in numerous features, but I expect if viewers were to come across them for the first time in 2025, they would be scratching their heads wondering why the pair were the top comedians at a major Hollywood studio. 

COCKEYED CAVALIERS sees them placed in what appears to be late 17th Century--early 18th Century England. The pair are on the run, due to Bert being a kleptomaniac (he has the magical ability to steal anything from anyone at any time). W & W come across a young woman (Dorothy Lee) running away from a forced marriage. (Dorothy has disguised herself as a young boy, which only makes her look more feminine.) The now trio wind up at the manor of a portly Duke (Robert Grieg), who needs medical attention. Robert pretends to be the King's physician, with Bert as his assistant. Staying with the Duke is his gorgeous niece, Lady Genevieve (Thelma Todd). Bob does his best to cozy up to the flirty Lady, who is married to a Baron (Noah Beery) who spends most of his time hunting, while Dorothy tries to stay inconspicuous, since the Duke is the one she is supposed to marry. 

The plot of COCKEYED CAVALIERS doesn't really matter--it's just an excuse to involve W & W in some goofy antics taking place in Merrie Olde England. Dorothy Lee starred in most of the W & W films (so many she was basically the third member of the team). As usual, Lee and Bert Wheeler become a romantic couple, at least when he finally figures out that she is a she (the fact that W & W actually believe Dorothy's posing as a boy shows how dopey these guys are). Dorothy Lee provided the W & W movies with beauty and spunk, although one has to wonder why her characters would be interested in someone as nondescript as Bert. 

The best parts of this film involve the scenes between Robert Woolsey and Thelma Todd. Thelma had already appeared with W & W in HIPS HIPS HOORAY (the duo's best feature), and she and Woolsey continue the comic rapport they had developed in that picture. Thelma had also already played a very similar role to Lady Genevieve in Laurel & Hardy's FRA DIAVOLO/THE DEVIL'S BROTHER--in that one she's another flirty aristocratic wife married to a nobleman (James Finlayson). Todd is devastatingly lovely as always, and the impressive period costumes she wears show off plenty of cleavage. 

COCKEYED CAVALIERS was directed by Mark Sandrich, who had already worked with W & W on HIPS HIPS HOORAY. Sandrich would go on to direct a number of the famed Fred Astaire/Ginger Rogers musicals, and COCKEYED CAVALIERS is an example of his ability to weave musical numbers and dances into a smoothly-running main story. At a point during one of W & W's silly dance routines, the action is presented in slow-motion--a very unique choice for 1934. 

The frantic climax of COCKEYED CAVALIERS comes off as too rushed--nearly the entire sequence is sped up, and the movie ends quite abruptly. One wonders if some RKO executives felt the movie needed trimming. (The climax might also annoy animal lovers--it involves a wild boar, and it's obvious that in most of the sequence an actual boar was used, even in close proximity to W & W.) 

Wheeler & Woolsey are certainly an acquired taste, but COCKEYED CAVALIERS benefits from Thelma Todd's presence. It also has cameos by Franklin Pangborn, Billy Gilbert, and Charlie Hall. It's more amusing than laugh out loud funny--I personally believe that Wheeler & Woolsey worked far better in a modern American Pre-Code environment. 

ABILENE TOWN

 

This is a 1946 black & white Western, starring Randolph Scott as Dan Mitchell, the town marshal of Abilene, Kansas. Dan has plenty of issues on his hands, what with having to deal with rowdy trail hands, shopkeepers, and homesteaders. Mitchell tries to keep peace among the various factions trying to decide what the future of Abilene will be, and he eventually takes the side of the many new homesteaders who have moved into the area. 

ABILENE TOWN is a good, solid Western. It's very predictable, and there's nothing in it that I would call game-changing, but it gives you 90 minutes of decent entertainment. The movie gives Randolph Scott the type of role he would play for most of the rest of his film career--an amiable fellow who can get tough when he has to, someone who exudes honesty and integrity. His Dan Mitchell is a law officer who would rather use his wits than his fists or his gun, but he's definitely someone you don't want to mess with. 

One main highlight of ABILENE TOWN is Ann Dvorak as saloon queen Rita. Dvorak is essentially playing the Marlene Dietrich role from DESTRY RIDES AGAIN, but she brings plenty of spunk and glamour to it. Dvorak fans will be happy to know she gets to sing and dance multiple times, and she fills out her showgirl costumes most admirably. Dvorak starred at Warner Bros. in the early 1930s, but her independent nature got her into trouble with the studio, and she was never able to become a major leading lady. It's disappointing that she didn't have a bigger presence in Hollywood--she's far more interesting onscreen than most actresses who are now better remembered. 

Ann Dvorak in ABILENE TOWN

Rhonda Fleming plays the nice-girl equivalent to Rita, a shopkeeper's daughter who has eyes for the Marshal. Rita also has an interest in the lawman (in her own sardonic way). Edgar Buchanan is the cowardly county sheriff, and Lloyd Bridges is the leader of the homesteaders. The main bad guys are played by long-time tough types Jack Lambert and Dick Curtis. 

ABILENE TOWN was directed by veteran Edwin L. Marin, who would wind up working with Randolph Scott a number of times. One can easily surmise why Scott would want Marin as a director. Marin's films are not fancy or out-of-the-ordinary, but they stick to the basics and they give audiences what they expect. There probably wasn't a lot of money spent on ABILENE TOWN, but the movie has above-average production values and it moves along in a crisp, efficient manner. One reason why the film comes off so well is the cinematography of Archie Stout. 

There's a saying that if you've seen one Randolph Scott Western, you've seen them all (except for the ones directed by Budd Boetticher). That's not really true, but even if many Scott Westerns resemble each other, I haven't come across one yet that isn't at least a very good, well-made title. 

RASPUTIN--DEMON WITH WOMEN

 

One aspect of Conrad Veidt's film career that doesn't get discussed enough is the number of times he played historical figures. The actor played Ivan the Terrible, Cesare Borgia, Horatio Nelson, Louis XI of France, and Prince Metternich. He also appeared as the notorious Grigori Rasputin in a 1932 German production called RASPUTIN--DEMON WITH WOMEN, which can be found on YouTube. 

One would assume that Veidt's Rasputin is a larger-than-life out-and-out villain. Surprisingly this isn't the case at all. Veidt is more subtle and quietly menacing than flamboyant--he relies on his penetrating gaze instead of hammy histrionics. This Rasputin is an opportunistic ladies man who worms his way into the Russian royal court, but he's more interested in having a good time and living the high life instead of craving absolute power and dominating the upper classes. 

The subtitle DEMON WITH WOMEN is a bit of a misnomer as well. Veidt's Rasputin certainly enjoys as many ladies as possible, but these women go out of their way to fling themselves at him (as soon as Rasputin enters a room, all the women start swooning). Rasputin winds up having plenty of enemies--but in this version of his story, it's not because he's a threat to the stability of the Russian Empire. It's more because various officials are jealous of his way with the females and his being a "peasant". (Veidt's Rasputin is actually against Russia entering WWI, because he accurately predicts that it will bring about the downfall of the Czar and his family.) 

Most of the other movie versions of Rasputin's life play up the man's supposed powers to heal the sick and influence others. This version downplays that aspect of Rasputin's character--instead of having an almost supernatural aura, he uses guile and cunning to take advantage of the superstitious and weak-minded. 

RASPUTIN--DEMON WITH WOMEN was directed by one Adolf Trotz. The movie isn't a spectacular epic--it only runs about 80 minutes and there's no large-scale battle or crowd sequences. It is a well-mounted production, and it has a few expressionistic touches, such as rapid-fire editing during a few scenes to increase the dramatic effect. 

Every film version of Rasputin's life has to have a notable sequence showcasing his death, but here even this extraordinary event is toned down. One almost feels sorry for the mad monk as he's coldly done away with. When other movie Rasputins meet their end there's usually all sorts of spectacular antics, but once again Veidt goes against the grain by showing a man who is genuinely shocked at his betrayal. 

I suspect some might be disappointed that RASPUTIN--DEMON WITH WOMEN isn't a wild, salacious expose of an infamous historical personality's intimate exploits. I found it to be another fine example of Conrad Veidt's brilliant technique. His Rasputin is a person that one could believe actually existed. 

By the way, Christopher Lee idolized Conrad Veidt, and Lee himself played Rasputin in Hammer Films' RASPUTIN THE MAD MONK. Lee's portrayal was much more the larger-than-life, legendary persona that most people think of the man than Veidt's version. 

THE STRANGLER OF BLACKMOOR CASTLE

 

Another German crime film, or Krimi, from 1963. This one is based not on an Edgar Wallace story, but one by his son, Bryan Edgar Wallace. This movie was produced by Artur Brauner and CCC Film--the company made a series of black & white krimis based on the works of Bryan Edgar Wallace to compete with Rialto's "official" Edgar Wallace series. (If the Rialto Edgar Wallace films are the equivalent of Hammer, then CCC could be compared with Amicus.) 

Blackmoor Castle, located somewhere near London, is being rented by esteemed government official Lucius Clark (Rudolf Fernau). Clark is going to be knighted very soon, but he's also been threatened by a mysterious black-gloved hooded figure. It turns out that years ago Clark came into possession of some stolen diamonds, and this figure--known as the Strangler--wants the stones. The Strangler also threatens to expose Clark's past and to bring harm to his young niece (Karin Dor). A stalwart Inspector from Scotland Yard (Harry Riebauer) is on the case, but there's plenty of murder and mayhem before the Strangler is revealed. 

THE STRANGLER OF BLACKMOOR CASTLE has most of the requisite elements one expects from a 1960s Krimi, including the usual sneaky suspects, red herrings, secret passages, and greedy folks who will do anything to get their hands on the cache of diamonds. This entry is a bit more gruesome than most, with the Strangler not only choking his victims, but cutting off the heads of a couple of them as well, and then carving an "M" into their foreheads. 

Among the suspects are Dieter Eppler as Clark's butler, who really enjoys his actual work as a diamond cutter, Ingmar Zeisberg as a duplicitous barmaid, and Hans Nielsen as the silly-ass Lord Blackmoor. The Lord has had to rent out most of the castle to pay off a tax debt, and he now spends his time wandering the grounds studying birds. The kilt-wearing Lord is fitted out with a ridiculous pair of whiskers, and if Rialto had made this film, there's no doubt their comedy relief regular Eddi Arent would have been cast in this role. 

BLACKMOOR CASTLE benefits from having the Queen of Krimi, Karin Dor, in the lead female role. She was constantly being chased around and put in danger in this type of picture, but she was still able to make her characters appealing and realistic. At the time this film was made Dor was married to its director, Harald Reinl. Reinl helmed the very first film in the entire German Edgar Wallace cycle, THE FACE OF THE FROG. Reinl directs BLACKMOOR CASTLE effectively and efficiently, but I felt he might have gotten more atmosphere out of the title location. One of the scriptwriters on this project was Ladislas Fodor, who had worked in Hollywood for a few years. 

The Strangler of Blackmoor Castle and Karin Dor

The German Krimis are collectively known for their unusual music scores, and BLACKMOOR CASTLE has one of the strangest, courtesy of Oskar Sala. For most of the running time Sala uses a number of weird tonalities that seem to be borrowed from the FORBIDDEN PLANET soundtrack--it's as if the composer was expecting a flying saucer to show up. 

THE STRANGLER OF BLACKMOOR CASTLE is one of the better entries in the non-Rialto group of German Krimis. It's also one of the many titles in this genre that sorely needs a proper restoration and North American home video release. Ironically a few years after this movie was made Rialto would produce an Edgar Wallace film titled THE HOUND OF BLACKWOOD CASTLE. 

THE SPANISH MAIN On Blu-ray From Warner Archive

 

Warner Archive brings out another fantastic restoration of a Technicolor classic with its Blu-ray release of the 1945 RKO pirate adventure THE SPANISH MAIN. 

Paul Henreid plays Laurent Van Horn, a 17th Century sea captain who is transporting immigrants to the New World. Van Horn's ship is caught in a hurricane and winds up wrecked at Cartagena, where the bullying local Spanish governor (Walter Slezak) insults him and throws him in jail. Van Horn escapes, and in a few years time, becomes known as "The Barracuda", a notorious pirate who preys upon the Spanish fleet. When the daughter of the viceroy of Mexico (Maureen O'Hara) is being transported to Cartagena in order to marry the governor, Van Horn sees this as another opportunity to get his revenge against the Spanish, but things become more complicated when he starts to fall for the proud lady. 

THE SPANISH MAIN gets shown fairly often on TCM, but seeing it the way it is presented on this Blu-ray is a revelation. The colors are bold, bright, and sharp, and one realizes that this was a major production for RKO at the time. The sets, costumes, and production design are all top notch, and it's easy to understand why George Barnes' cinematography was nominated for an Academy Award. The sound quality is impressive also, highlighting Hanns Eisler's epic score. 

Paul Henreid is a rather unlikely choice to play a swashbuckling adventurer, but it was the actor himself who instigated this project (he wanted to get away from usually being cast as suave romantic types). Henreid is better than one would expect--he's obviously having fun, and what actor wouldn't? (The increased visual detail on this Blu-ray does reveal that Henreid was doubled by a stuntman for a number of scenes.) 

If any actress was perfect for Technicolor, it was Maureen O'Hara. She's an absolute knockout on this Blu-ray, and her appearance is accentuated by the many gorgeous costumes she gets to wear. Her role in THE SPANISH MAIN is very much like the one she played in THE BLACK SWAN (another pirate adventure that sorely deserves a Blu-ray restoration). There's no way you can believe that O'Hara is the daughter of a Spanish nobleman, but THE SPANISH MAIN is so fun and entertaining it's not that big of a deal. The supporting cast has plenty of faces familiar to film buffs, with Binnie Barnes deserving mention for her performance as legendary pirate Anne Bonney. Walter Slezak is a decent enough villain, but he's too much of a strutting buffoon to be in the same dastardly class as a Basil Rathbone or a Claude Rains. 

Director Frank Borzage was as unlikely to helm a story about buccaneers on the Caribbean as Paul Henried was to star in it, but Borzage handles all the action elements quite well, and he gives the tale the sweep and rhythm it needs. 

The only extras on this Warner Archive Blu-ray are a couple of pirate-influenced Looney Tunes, and a original trailer for THE SPANISH MAIN that has not been restored and shows in comparison how magnificent the movie looks on this disc. 

Warner Archive once again shows how much life there is in classic Hollywood features when they are restored and presented in such an amazing fashion as THE SPANISH MAIN is on this Blu-ray. 

THE BELOVED ROGUE On Blu-ray From Kino

 

The latest title in Kino's excellent series of classic silent movie Blu-ray releases is THE BELOVED ROGUE, a 1927 historical adventure starring John Barrymore and Conrad Veidt. 

THE BELOVED ROGUE is set in 15th Century France, where vagabond poet Francois Villon (John Barrymore) gets involved in thwarting a plot by the Duke of Burgundy to usurp the throne from King Louis XI (Conrad Veidt). During his various antics Villon still finds time to woo Charlotte (Marceline Day), a member of the royal court. 

This is a movie which has John Barrymore's attempt to play a Douglas Fairbanks-type of role. Barrymore highlights Villon's love of wine, women, and fun, and tones down the swashbuckling elements. (Villon defeats his foes using wits and pluck instead of athletic prowess.) There's no doubt that Barrymore had a lot of fun playing Villon as a raggedy rascal. In the later part of the film, when Villon gains the favor of the king and is "cleaned up", the poet spends a lot of time romancing Charlotte, and these scenes are the weakest in the picture. 

Barrymore almost gets upstaged by Conrad Veidt (making his American film debut) as the grotesque King Louis. Veidt portrays the king as a living gargoyle (his eyes literally gleam with madness). It's great watching Barrymore and Veidt hamming it up in their scenes together. (It's a sure bet that Barrymore probably wished that he could have played Louis XI.) 

One example of the lightheartedness of this film's approach is the fact that two of Villon's closest companions are played by comedy veterans Mack Swain and Slim Summerville, and another is played by Angelo Rossitto as "Beppo the Dwarf". There's also a number of stunts and gags that wouldn't be out of place in a Harold Lloyd picture. 

The movie may be silly at times, but the production values are top notch. The legendary William Cameron Menzies was involved in the design elements of this feature, and the various sets, shot compositions, and costumes are consistently eye-catching. What makes this film even more notable is that most of the action takes place in a snowy, wind-swept Paris (one almost never sees winter shown in a classic historical epic, especially during the silent era). Universal's silent THE HUNCHBACK OF NOTRE DAME was also set in 15th Century France, but while that film was stodgy and slow, THE BELOVED ROGUE has an energy and a sweep to it. 

As expected, Kino's release of THE BELOVED ROGUE looks magnificent visually. The picture quality is very sharp, and the movie is augmented with plenty of dramatic tinting. This release features a rousing music score by Robert Israel that perfectly matches the film's tone (the score is available in either 2.0 stereo or 5.1 surround). 

The main extra is a new audio commentary by Anthony Slide. He goes into the background of the production, such as William Cameron Menzies' effect on it, but he spends most of his time giving biographical info on the cast & crew and reciting the names of films those people were involved with. There's also an introduction to the film by Orson Welles that was produced for TV in the 1970s. 

I wouldn't put THE BELOVED ROGUE on the same level as the best Douglas Fairbanks silent epics, but it's still very entertaining. It's worth seeing mainly for the work of John Barrymore, Conrad Veidt, and William Cameron Menzies. 

DANGER MAN--"The Man On The Beach"

 

My buddy Michael Eugene Wilson happens to be the biggest Barbara Steele fan I know. (Mike has his own blog: michaelsmovieworld.blogspot.com.) He recently sent me a YouTube link for an episode of the 1960s British TV spy series DANGER MAN, in which Steele was a guest star. The title of the episode was "The Man On The Beach", and it was originally broadcast in 1966.

In the episode British agent John Drake (Patrick McGoohan) is sent to Jamaica under secret orders to ferret out a double agent. Drake winds up being accused of being a double agent himself, and while trying to avoid his own superiors, attempts to discover who has set him up. During the mission he encounters the slinky Cleo (Barbara Steele), a mysterious woman who goes out of her way to attract his attention. 

I haven't seen very many episodes of DANGER MAN. It has never played in syndication on any of the channels I've had access to over the years. Watching "The Man On The Beach", I can see why the show doesn't have the lasting cult status of, say, THE MAN FROM UNCLE or THE AVENGERS. DANGER MAN is a more dramatic and lower-key look as espionage--it's far from James Bond territory. Patrick McGoohan's John Drake isn't a charming, heroic ladies man--he's quirky, acerbic, somewhat insolent, and he manages to rub just about everyone he meets the wrong way. (According to some sources, McGoohan had those attributes in real life.) DANGER MAN deals with the grubby, non-glamorous world of intelligence gathering. (In America, the show was retitled SECRET AGENT MAN, and the title sequence was changed to include Bobby Rivers' song, which is probably more well-known now in the U.S. than the program it inspired.) 

Patrick McGoohan and Barbara Steele

Barbara Steele's best attribute was her unique screen presence, and "The Man On The Beach" makes full use of it. We first see her sitting at a hotel bar, languidly smoking a cigarette, the epitome of the exotic, intriguing woman. Steele's Cleo doesn't waste time making herself known to Drake--but her interest in him has more to do with espionage than romance. (Patrick McGoohan, a married man who took his personal life very seriously, didn't want John Drake to be the typical bed-hopping secret agent.) 

Seeing Steele in this episode makes one realize how gorgeous she was in contemporary clothes--the actress didn't get any chances to wear modern-day fashions during her many Italian Gothic horror stints. Viewers watching this episode will also get the opportunity to hear Steele's actual voice, which is always a plus. I wish Steele had gotten more to do in the episode, but she did get main guest star billing, which was important back in 1960s television. 

Unfortunately Steele's character isn't around for the last segment of the story, and I have to say my interest waned a bit without her presence. (This episode of DANGER MAN was an hour long, and one can tell that there was some padding added to the main story to fill out the running time.) The plot of "The Man On The Beach" was diverting enough, although it's quite obvious the episode was shot on indoor sets in Britain instead of outdoor Jamaican locations. Director Peter Yates (who would go on to helm features such as BULLITT) goes out of his way to bring some visual vitality to the story, despite the low budget and the studio sets. There are a couple fight scenes, but these are presented in a realistic manner, and after them Drake is shown as worn out and disheveled--he doesn't come out of them with perfect hair and clothes. 

Considering how well Barbara Steele fit into this episode, and considering how much time she spent in Italy in the 1960s, one wonders why she wasn't involved in the many 007 Eurospy kncok-offs made during the same period. (Perhaps she was approached to be in some of them, and she turned them down for whatever reason?) With her exotic, almost mystical quality, Steele would have perfect as a Bond lady or a femme fatale involved in international intrigue. "The Man On The Beach" proved that Barbara Steele could do much more than Euro Gothic.