In this short afterword, Russ Hunter, Senior Lecturer in Film and Television at the University of Northumbria, offers some reflections on Peter Hutchings’ career. He notes Hutchings’ incisive intelligence and scholarly rigour, but also his kindness and generosity. Besides making major academic contributions in the form of Hammer and Beyond and his Historical Dictionary of Horror Cinema, he was also an excellent mentor to aspiring scholars. Above all else, he was driven by a love for cinema, a love that defined the course of his life.
Richard Matheson’s I Am Legend and Hammer’s The Night Creatures
In 1957 Hammer commissioned American author Richard Matheson to write a screenplay based on his vampire novella, I Am Legend. The screenplay (retitling the story as The Night Creatures), however, went unmade. This chapter examines the project in relation to the following questions. Why was Hammer interested in the I Am Legend project in the first place? Why did it go to the trouble of bringing Matheson over from the United States? What does this suggest about the pattern of production in the company during the late 1950s and, more broadly, about the relation between British and American models of horror and indeed between horror literature and horror cinema? Such questions direct us to I Am Legend as a commercial property as well as an innovative horror text, and a consideration of the circumstances of its acquisition and development by Hammer can enhance our understanding of the relation between these two distinct aspects of its existence.
Of all the British ﬁlm companies that sought to emulate Hammer’s success in the horror genre throughout the 1960s and early 1970s, Amicus was one of the most proliﬁc and distinctive. Between 1964 and 1974 it produced fourteen horror ﬁlms; these included both portmanteau/anthology films and single-plot dramas. The predominantly British casts and settings of Amicus horrors, the presence in many of them of the British horror stars Peter Cushing and Christopher Lee, and the fact that they were all directed by British directors working with British crews in British studios suggest that Amicus should be seen as an integral part of the British horror movement of the 1960s and 1970s. Despite this, Amicus horror ﬁlms have not played any signiﬁcant role in the critical re-evaluation of British horror that was inaugurated by David Pirie’s groundbreaking book A Heritage of Horror in 1973. In particular, the Amicus ﬁlms do not sit easily with those critical accounts that have sought to identify British horror as a purely indigenous cultural phenomenon. This chapter is therefore interested instead in the precise nature of the company’s dependence on American-sourced material and the extent to which this material is reworked within a British context of production. Such an approach can potentially highlight aspects of British horror that are obscured by those accounts which have centred on Hammer.
The conclusion briefly reflects on subsequent developments in British horror following Hammer’s ‘demise’ in the late 1970s. Brief consideration is given to such films as The Wicker Man (1973) and Hellraiser (1987) and Hammer’s newfound ‘respectability’.
Horror is often a problem for critics. The all too visible stress in many horror films on morbid themes and acts of violence; the openly exploitative nature of much horror; the association of the genre with a predominantly adolescent audience: all these factors militate against the horror genre being viewed in anything but the most derogatory or patronising of terms. So much is this the case that even those critics who want to argue for the worth of these films sometimes find themselves negotiating what appears to be inhospitable terrain, with their work taking on an accordingly defensive tone. This unease is evident in the various critical responses provoked by British horror cinema over the years. From the outraged to the laudatory, these responses are part of the baggage which British horror inevitably brings with it to any critical discussion. If we are to move beyond some of the less helpful long-standing assumptions about horror and towards a more systematic understanding of this sector of British film production, we need to consider this legacy of criticism. The chapter explores the various responses to and readings of British horror since the 1950s and concludes by attempting to identify what it is that makes the horror film so distinctive and important a part of British cinema.
Frankenstein (or the monster that often goes under his name) and Dracula are without doubt the two ‘stars’ of the horror genre as well as being the most influential and widely known products of literary gothic. This raises the question of how Hammer’s Frankenstein and Dracula cycles relate to the earlier novels and films which originated and developed these figures. To put it another way, how can one conceive of Frankenstein’s and Dracula’s historical passage from their nineteenth-century literary origins to their entrance into British cinema in the 1950s? This chapter considers the ways in which Hammer established its own versions of the Baron and the Count, how it differentiated them from earlier versions, and how these figures were developed throughout the cycles in which they featured. As far as the latter is concerned, one often finds – particularly in the Frankenstein cycle – that there is rather more innovation and rethinking than one might have supposed.
The introductory chapter is written to help position the reader regarding the academic climate that saw the first edition of Hammer and Beyond materialise, to consider some of the book’s omissions, and to assess the state of British horror in the years immediately leading up to, and following, its publication.
The marginalisation of both Count Dracula and Baron Frankenstein in British horror cinema of the 1970s was only one part of a much wider rejection and casting out of those male authority figures who had been so important in earlier Hammer horrors. At the same time the question of the woman’s desire became a more pressing and unavoidable issue in 1970s horror, with this sometimes having surprising consequences for the sorts of films actually produced. Clearly an important factor in this disruption of male authority, one that impinged on horror from outside, was the historical challenge delivered by the feminist movement of the early 1970s. But this needs to be linked with other influential factors, both within and beyond the film industry. For instance, one can point to the increasingly politicised and rebellious youth culture of this period (youth, of course, being the principal target audience of British horror), with its vociferous dissatisfaction with and alienation from many of society’s traditions and institutions and the often paternal authority embodied by these. The chapter examines these issues in relation to case studies such as The Vampire Lovers (1970), Blood from the Mummy’s Tomb (1971) and Hands of the Ripper (1971).
The introduction to the first edition sets out the book’s cultural-historical perspective, and explains how it traces the changing nature of British horror from the mid-1940s to the early 1990s, as it constantly sought to redefine itself in the face of social change. Hutchings explains how films of some distinction are identified and discussed through the work. But the worth of British horror does not reside entirely, or even perhaps mainly, in such films. Instead, the genre, or movement if you prefer, the possibilities it offers and all the films it comprises can be seen in total as offering a rich, fascinating and multifaceted response to life in Britain.
Exclusions and exchanges in the history of European horror
This chapter seeks to identify and characterise the relationship between British horror cinema and European horror cinema. In so doing it also explores a particular and influential critical understanding of European horror: ‘Eurohorror’, from which British horror films are typically excluded. It argues that the complexities associated with this relationship, such as it was in the past or is now, connect not just to the historical development of various national horror cinemas in Europe but also, perhaps more importantly, to how European horror cinema has been discussed, defined and discursively shaped since the 1980s. Throughout this period, the ways in which a wide range of European horror films have been circulated, received, interpreted and valued have undergone significant transformation.