Sunday, January 28, 2024

Review: 'The Terror'/'The Little Shop of Horrors' Blu-ray

Jack Nicholson is a lieutenant in Napoleon’s army who tracks ghostly Sandra Knight to Boris Karloff’s decrepit castle. 

It took two writers to compose a script that clearly just instructed, “Jack walks down hall and opens door” for pages and pages on end. Roger Corman commissioned that script for no other reason than to get his every penny’s worth from the sets he used for The Raven and take advantage of the three extra days Karloff agreed to make himself available. 

No wonder Corman wanted to keep shooting on the castle sets: they’re magnificent. Consequently, The Terror looks great, and that cast— which also includes Dick Miller, Jonathan Haze, and Dorothy Neumann— is impressive too. However, the desperation of this production, with its patchy story further confused by four different directors (including Nicholson, co-screenwriter Jack Hill, Monte Hellman, and Francis Ford Coppola) tacking additional scenes willy nilly onto Corman’s footage, is impossible to ignore. Of that cast, only Neumann rises above the perfunctory to give an enjoyably camp performance as an old witch. 

The Terror is not as bad as its infamous reputation suggests, but the only scene that makes good on its terrifying title is the one in which Haze gets his eyes pecked out by a hawk…well, that is unless you think the image of Sandra Knight with honey on her face is particularly terrifying.

Now, if you want to see a Corman picture without a single perfunctory performance, check out the rightfully celebrated Little Shop of HorrorsThe story goes that he shot it in just two days (not including reshoots) in order to beat new film industry rules giving actors more equitable contracts and pay— a sleazy motive, but one that allowed him to make his films on minuscule schedules and budgets. 

Whatever the reality of its production, The Little Shop of Horrors is a brilliant specimen of B-movie making with man-eating Venus flytrap Audrey Junior growing to massive proportions on a diet of local folks. Charles B. Griffith, the writer responsible for some of Corman’s best horror/comedies, whipped up a script rippling with absurd situations and priceless shtick. The movie’s most famous performance is that of young Nicholson as an enthusiastically masochistic dental patient, but Jonathan Haze as Audrey’s keeper/slave, Jackie Joseph as his girlfriend, Mel Welles as his boss, and Corman-fave Dick Miller as a flower-munching customer are just as memorable. Still very funny with some charming craft-shop special effects, The Little Shop of Horrors is wonderfully entertaining and wonderful inspiration for fledgling filmmakers. 

Considering its superiority to The Terror, and the cachet of its musical theater and cinematic remakes, The Little Shop of Horrors really should have been the A-feature of Film Masters' new double-feature Blu-ray set. Maybe they thought a more prominent role for superstar Nicholson and the similar marquee power of Karloff might make The Terror the more marketable movie, but I guess it doesn't matter which movie gets top billing, just as long as they're both included.

Perhaps it was also the superior restoration of The Terror that put it on the cover. This is a film cobbled together from various sources, and the stock footage doesn't look good, but the dedicated shots look fabulous, with natural grain, vibrant color, and unenhanced sharpness. The Little Shop of Horrors looks overly grainy and insufficiently contrasty in comparison, but considering the way it was shot, it actually looks better than it usually does in Film Masters' widescreen presentation.

Both discs include a nice selection of bonuses. On the Terror disc, there's a commentary from film historians Steve Haberman and C. Courtney Joyner (who also supplies a text essay that focuses more on Karloff's past in Poe movies than this set's lackluster feature film), a neat 44-minute visual essay on Corman as filmmaker with a main focus on The Terror, and a trailer. On the Little Shop disc, there's a commentary with Jonathan Haze and writer Justin Humphreys, a 17 minute documentary on Corman's Filmgroup production company, and a trailer. Overall, it's a juicy package, though it's the inclusion of Little Shop of Horrors that makes it essential.

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