Wednesday, October 19, 2011

A Single Moving Candle

The Tomb of Ligeia (1964)
directed by Roger Corman
rating: 3 out of 5 cravats
watched instantly on Netflix

The pleasures to be found in The Tomb of Ligeia are less sustained, I think, than those in Pit and the Pendulum. This is, at least initially, too self-conscious an effort at a "British" picture, filmed at Shepperton Studios and in the ruins of a real-life abbey, complete with fox hunts and glasses of sherry. But Elizabeth Shepherd is a much better match for Vincent Price than Luana Anders was, more of a masochist and much quicker in realizing the danger her passions expose her to.

The definitive scene is an act of hypnosis performed by Price on Shepherd. No confession of love could be more eloquently recited than this, and the effect of recalling Shepherd's buried memories of her mother is to mimic a seance, which results in a very subtle breaking of Shepherd's father's heart. Corman finds time to care about a man we've barely met, and the ensuing segue into possession seems even creepier for the emotion of the moment before.

Scares are Ligeia's great success. They fall faster and more frequently than in Pit and the Pendulum, in part because Price's descent into madness is less theatrical (he sometimes appears catatonic). A dream sequence involving a bleeding fox and the changing face of a chambermaid seems to anticipate some future scene, but moves so slowly it is as if something is wrong with the print. It does not drag so much as catch, and play out like that nightmare - well, you know the one.