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And Now The Screaming Starts
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1973; color
Directed by Roy Ward Baker
Starring: Peter Cushing, Herbert Lom, Patrick Magee, Stephanie Beacham, Ian Ogilvy & Geoffrey Whitehead
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During a recent snowstorm, which turned out to be more of an ice storm, the Kommandant rented this movie, thinking it was a Giallo. Which it's not. (I think it was just misplaced on the shelf but in his defense the box cover does bear somewhat of a resemblance to that of Blood And Black Lace.) It is however a movie featuring Peter Cushing in a funny wig; not so random acts of sexual assault by a ghost; dudes with Dutch Boy haircuts and bloody eye sockets, a la Alice Cooper via Hank Von Helvete; and, most importantly, a murderous disembodied hand. Which explains how it ended up here. And, just in case you were wondering, And Now The Screaming Starts doesn't actually start with screaming. It starts with an innocent carriage ride and soothing, yet ominous, voice-over. But, not to worry, the screaming will start soon enough and continue throughout the rest of the movie. First, though, we'll have some character development. When we meet our heroine, Catherine, she is receiving her initial tour of what is soon to be her marital home, from her soon to be husband, Charles Fengriffin. Specifically, he is showing her his large assortment of dead relatives… or rather, the oil painting portraits depicting his dead relatives from the shoulders up. (As was the style of the time.) Almost immediately she feels a strange attraction to one portrait imparticular, that of Sir Henry Fengriffin, AKA her fiancee's grandfather. Charles tries to distract her with a portrait of his father but as soon as he turns away to go see if her bridal suite is ready, she returns to stand in front the creepy portrait and stare at it some more. Then some crazy loud music plays and a hand - possibly an imaginary hand - appears to bust through the painting and grasp in her direction. Naturally, she starts screaming (which, after this point, is her reaction to pretty much everything; thus the title) and, just as naturally, Charles comes running to her rescue - only to find nothing amiss at all. Save his screeching wigged out fiancee. Moments later, we see the now happily married couple clad in their wedding finery, bidding their guests adieu in a hurried fashion. Presumably so Charles can rush upstairs and consummate this marriage before the woman he just made his wife gets any crazier. As they make their way upstairs, the camera focuses in on the grandfatherly portrait again and then pans down to the floor, offering our first glimpse of the real star of this film, the disembodied hand. (Which could also be described at times throughout the film, particularly this time, as a crawling hand; but not to be confused with either the aptly titled film The Crawling Hand or the tribute song of the same name, penned by the Kommandant.) If you think any of what I've described above sounds strange to you, wait until you see the rest of the movie. I gather that Amicus Films was / is some sort of Hammer Studios rival and, who knows, maybe they gave them a run for their money back in the day. In retrospect, this doesn't hold up quite as well as say, any of the Hammer Frankenstein movies starring Peter Cushing. At least as far as horror movies go. On the other hand, if you focus in on the kitsch factor, this one is pretty memorable.
—Bunny
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