Shot
back-to-back with Plague of the Zombies, The
Reptile was designed as a B feature, but like its Cornish
horror partner, has become one of the best-loved Hammer films
of the period. It’s also the first – and one of
only a few – Hammer horrors to be based on an entirely
original idea, rather than spinning off existing literary and
cinematic works or traditional monsters. So it’s great
to see the film emerging so early in the ongoing remastering
project for hammer’s classic titles.
Set in a small Cornish village – the type where locals
vacate the pub when a stranger arrives – the film sets
out its stall in the pre-credit sequence, as Charles Spaulding
is summoned to a large country house by a mysterious note, only
to be set upon by a mysterious assailant whose bite results
in blackening of the skin and foaming at the mouth before rapid
death. Watching this – with varying reactions –
are Dr Franklyn (noel Willman) and his sinister Malay servant
(Marne Maitland).
The film proper opens with Spaulding’s brother Harry (Ray
Barrett) and new bride Valerie (Jennifer Daniel) arriving to
take over his brother’s cottage, which they have inherited.
But it doesn’t take long before they are caught up in
the mystery of the Black Death that has been killing locals.
Central to this are Franklyn and his daughter Anna (Jacqueline
Pearce) – the former a severe tyrant given to angry outbursts,
the latter a strange and desperate figure. The pair are eventually
revealed to be the victims of a snake cult’s curse, Anna
transforming into a snake woman who is claiming victims as they
foolishly wander through the moors.
Tightly
paced and as well mounted as any Hammer film you can name, The
Reptile is a masterclass in economic filmmaking. There
is no time while watching to wonder about plot inconsistencies
(if the cold affects Snake-Anna so much, why is she wandering
around biting people outdoors?), as the story charges along,
with solid performances from most of the leads. Admittedly,
Barrett is stoic but dull and Daniel is perhaps a bit unemotive
– her reaction to seeing her husband stagger home after
being bitten, his skin blackening in the same way that she has
already seen kill people, is more one of mild concern than anything
– but Pearce is effectively otherworldly, with enough
ambiguity to make you wonder just how much of an unwilling victim
she is (her luring of people to the house suggests she’s
more in control than the story is implying). Willman is excellent
as the tightly wound doctor, the film’s real victim character,
and it’s good to see Hammer regular Michael Ripper elevated
to a full supporting role.
The snake woman make-up is effectively crude, while the ‘black
death’ visuals remain as gruesome now as ever, and like
most Hammer films of the time, the look of the movie belies
its small budget. The Retile remains a film that is hugely enjoyable
no matter how often you’ve seen it, and this new version
is welcome indeed.
The Blu-ray has few extras – a new documentary that is
mostly critic talking heads (you suspect that, much as with
The Reptile and Plague of the Zombies,
all these Hammer Blu-ray featurettes were shot back-to-back)
plus a World of Hammer episode. It would’ve been interesting
to see Pearce interviewed about the film, but I imagine to market
for these re-releases isn’t huge enough to really justify
extensive new extras.
Shot
back-to-back with Plague of the Zombies, The
Reptile was designed as a B feature, but like its Cornish
horror partner, has become one of the best-loved Hammer films
of the period. It’s also the first – and one of
only a few – Hammer horrors to be based on an entirely
original idea, rather than spinning off existing literary and
cinematic works or traditional monsters. So it’s great
to see the film emerging so early in the ongoing remastering
project for hammer’s classic titles.
Tightly
paced and as well mounted as any Hammer film you can name, The
Reptile is a masterclass in economic filmmaking. There
is no time while watching to wonder about plot inconsistencies
(if the cold affects Snake-Anna so much, why is she wandering
around biting people outdoors?), as the story charges along,
with solid performances from most of the leads. Admittedly,
Barrett is stoic but dull and Daniel is perhaps a bit unemotive
– her reaction to seeing her husband stagger home after
being bitten, his skin blackening in the same way that she has
already seen kill people, is more one of mild concern than anything
– but Pearce is effectively otherworldly, with enough
ambiguity to make you wonder just how much of an unwilling victim
she is (her luring of people to the house suggests she’s
more in control than the story is implying). Willman is excellent
as the tightly wound doctor, the film’s real victim character,
and it’s good to see Hammer regular Michael Ripper elevated
to a full supporting role.