“Cube” to “Cyrano de Bergerac”
Cube (1997) Oftentimes the best things come in little packages. This small-budget cult-thriller is such a jewel. Nothing is really explained, like those onscreen, awakened in their deathtrap, we must figure it out for ourselves. A small Canadian film, it has no stars; but it is to the films betterment. It is Agatha Christie, Kafka, and is extremely Biblical. Do not be intimidated! Soon as someone, either protagonist or viewer, thinks something sort of makes sense boom! (Watch out squeamish ones!) Get the popcorn, sodas and friends together and have a blast! (KWR)
Cul-De-Sac (1966) Repulsion made his reputation in the West but Roman Polanski really only came of age with this, his second England-language movie. Filmed on the windswept Northumberland coast and featuring an intriguingly ambiguous plot, the movie depends for much of its atmosphere on Donald Pleasance and Jack MacGowan’s effortless mastery of a macabre script. (KT)
The Curse of Frankenstein (1956) A color zeitgeist smashes its way into the previously formulaic and monochrome world of the English gothic cinema. After this, things would never be the same again for Hammer, or for anyone else working within the genre. There’s remarkably little gore in the film and rather too much talk, although Terence Fisher’s experimental use of vivid reds and garish greens was revolutionary for its time. The first half of the narrative, for all the melodramatic dialogue and stilted romantic subplot, is brilliantly carried by Cushing’s impressively foppish, Byronesque Victor. From the point where the creature is raised, however (a breathtaking sequence), Lee takes over. His shambling, pathetic monster is a cunning mixture of pathos and naked aggression and is utterly riveting to watch. Curse whether it realized it or not was part of a cultural movement that helped to shake Britain from its dreary post-war lethargy and push it, perhaps unwillingly, towards a bright new era. It is not, entirely, without foundation to suggest that the 1960s, in all of its varied forms, started here. (KT)
The Curse of the Werewolf (1960) Weeping eyes fill the screen at the beginning of Terence Fisher’s beautifully designed film and set the visual agenda for what follows dramatically. A huge influence on future Lycanthrope movies, The Curse of the Werewolf’s cluttered script, sexually aggressive conceits and, occasionally, inelegant stubs at outré visual forms conspire to exact a heavy price. Nevertheless, there is much to admire in Curse’s doomed romance subplot and, best of all, Oliver Reed’s tortured central performance. The plot includes much subtle socio-political observation, via the cruel oppression of the peasantry (note, also, that only men seem to have been invited to the Marques’ wedding celebrations so it’s a patriarchal world as well as a capitalist one). The movie is also immeasurably aided by Roy Ashton’s fabulous make-up job on Reed. One of Hammer’s finest. (KT)
Cyrano de Bergerac (1950) There were earlier versions, and others have made this story since, but absolutely nothing comes close to matching the power and intensity of Jose Ferrer’s performance or the other splendors of this film. Snappy dialogue, edge of your seat action you want to see it in a period adventure story, this picture delivers! (KCL)
Originally published in Raspberry World – Volume 2, Issue 1 (June/July 2007)