Curtains for the critics!

THEATRE OF BLOOD (1973)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

Vincent Price was the Grand Guignol of cinema, the man with the snarling, exquisite voice that pronounced chilling, spine-tingling horrors. His charm and elegance left impressions of cold, remorseless evil, but with a smile. At his best, he remained true to this persona, fixating audiences with his stare and arched eyebrows and twirling mustache. Though his career was strewn with villainy, "Theater of Blood" was an attempt at showing audiences and critics that he could be a towering actor when it came to drama, if only someone had given him the chance.

Price plays Edward Lionheart, a hammy Shakesperean actor who has endured critical beatings in every one of his plays. He had been accused time and again of being over-the-top yet also as someone who could make a grand exit. Lionheart thought he would be bestowed with the prestigious Critic's Circle award for best actor in his last play when instead a young newcomer receives the award. Lionheart visits his critics at a gathering and lambasts them for ignoring his work, and supposedly commits suicide. A few years later, one critic after another is killed in grisly ways, and the murders ape the murders in the very Shakespeare plays Lionheart had appeared in. Nobody thinks of accusing Lionheart at first, considering he is supposed to be dead, but Lionheart's own daughter, Edwina (Diana Rigg), may have the answers to the culprit responsible.

All the critics are astounded at what is happening. Police protection is used, but the critics never realize the lengths to which this murderer aspires to. A wine tasting event turns sour. Fencing practice becomes a realistic duel. A cooking show turns into a Grand Guignol of tastelessness. A hairstyling dryer becomes an electrocution chamber. The best of these characters is the always colorful Robert Morley as Meredith, a critic who treats his poodles as if they were his own children. There is also the understated Ian Hendry as Peregrine, the youngest of the critics, who was most savage in his attacks agains Lionheart's acting, and possibly the most reasonable.

"Theatre of Blood" has an imaginative conceit at its core - the systematic execution of critics who rip apart actors's performances - but it is nothing more than Hammer horror delivered with a high body count. Yes, all the critics meet their maker (save for one, of course), but the gore is likely to turn off viewers who've enjoyed Price in the delicately strange surroundings of the "Dr. Phibes" movies. I could have lived without seeing blood spurting from decapitated bodies, electrical shock that turns a body into toast, poodles used as a delicacy on the order of "Titus Andronicus," and many other stabbings and mutilations. Yes, gore has gone to far more explicit extremes since 1973 to be sure, but this black comedy thinks gore in and of itself is funny - it is not. There is no maniacal glee or imagination in the killings - they look too much like leftovers from any Hammer horror film (note: I am no big fan of Hammer in general). We are obviously dealing with a demented actor who doesn't see how over-the-top and hysterical his acting has become, not to mention how killing his critics does not improve matters. Had the film concentrated on Lionheart's soulless charisma, it might have been a real winner. As it is, it is merely passable, wicked, crude fun.

Despite the bloody theatrics, "Theater of Blood" does have the towering presence of Vincent Price and he makes the most of his juicy role. He snaps, crackles, shouts and delivers with every bit of wickedness in his body - it is a bravura performance. Just imagine if he had been allowed to tackle Shakespeare in the any of the mentioned plays Lionheart performed in. We might have seen that Price's talent was not just horror.