Theater of Blood (1973)

Movie: Theater of Blood (1973), directed by Douglas Hickox

Watched on: Shudder

Ran: 6.67 miles, 8’21”/mile, 55:44 (quick run)

 

And now a public service announcement from Running Scared: a varied diet is the key to a healthy constitution! Splatter, zombies, giallo, torture porn, possession, found footage—there’s lots of diversity across the horror spectrum, and chances are you know what you like and you chow down accordingly. But even if you’re careful to enjoy a hearty mix of genres, are you getting your recommended number of servings of… classics? I know, I know, some may consider them the Brussels sprouts of horror films—rich in context and good for you, but tough to choke down. That’s not necessarily true, though! After all, there are horror classics of all types out there, so unless your tastes keep to an extremely narrow lane, the odds are good you’ll find some nourishing classics that taste great too.

 

For example, may I recommend Theater of Blood? It’s a serial killer/revenge flick for the drama nerd set: someone is bumping off the theater critics of London in tremendously colorful fashion, and before too long, the head of the Critic’s Circle notices that each murder appears to be taken straight from a Shakespeare play. Even more intriguing, the order of the deaths matches the order of the plays in the final repertory season of the notoriously overacting Edward Lionheart, who, when snubbed by the Circle at an awards ceremony two years prior, took his own life by leaping into the Thames (after reciting a Hamlet soliloquy, of course). Could his grieving daughter Edwina be the culprit? Or is there a very good reason why Edward’s body was never recovered?

 

The first thing I have to praise is a stellar cast—I plead ignorance of most of the ’70s-era heavy-hitters in this extremely British film, but the headliners are known to all. No less a horror god than Vincent Price himself is the aggrieved ham Lionheart, and since Price is one of those actors who only ever really plays himself, it’s nice that the role fits him like a skin-tight catsuit. Speaking of catsuits, the always-luminescent Diana Rigg plays his devoted daughter Edwina and kicks as much butt as you would expect of an ex-Avenger—no, not those Avengers, though Black Widow does owe much to Emma Peel and her wardrobe. Ms. Rigg passed away just last month, so there’s another reason to watch what was reportedly what she thought was the best of the many films she made. (The only other actor I recognized was Milo O’Shea as Inspector Boot; he was Durand Durand in Barbarella, and I guess those really WERE his eyebrows.)

 

But there is so much more to like here than just the acting. The premise is simple and engaging, the cinematography is weirdly lush, and the writing is sharp as the many, many blades that appear onscreen. Overall, the single word that best fits the film is “wicked.” If you’re a fan of modern movies with elaborate and gnarly themed murders, like Se7en or the Saw flicks, you might well consider this an ancestor, as each murder fits the victim and is also a modernized twist on deaths culled from the dramatic works of Shakespeare—which also means that most of the deaths are gory and disturbing because, in case you didn’t know, Shakespeare was frickin’ metal, dude. We’re talking drowning in wine, electrocution by hair curlers (as a stand-in for burnings at the stake), being force-fed one’s own beloved dogs, etc.

 

While the murders are grisly, they aren’t especially scary, as Theater of Blood is so camp that Jason Voorhees keeps watching it looking for counselors to machete. The bright colors and the overall tone remind me of a Hanna Barbera cartoon, you’ll see the most bumbling police outside of a Keystone Kops number, there’s a homing device with a big red button that’s straight out of a ’60s-era Batman TV episode, and if you never realized that you NEED to see Vincent Price portray Bob Ross from an alternative timeline in which he’s a gay hairdresser instead of an oil painter, trust me: 1) you absolutely do; and 2) congratulations, you’ve come to the right place.

 

So no, Theater of Blood is unlikely to send much of a shiver up your spine; if anything, it’s more of a ’70s parody of horror films than a horror film itself. And why is that a bad thing? Sure, the sheer joy of everyone involved just drips off the screen—I haven’t even mentioned the FENCING DUEL on TRAMPOLINES—but still, I say any movie with Vincent Price holding aloft a visibly steaming human heart he’s just cut from the chest of his enemy qualifies as horror, and I’ll fight anyone who says otherwise. Plus, where else are you ever gonna see Vincent Price do Shakespeare?

 

Give it a try. And mix in some other classics while you’re at it. It’ll do you a world of good. 

 

This has been a public service announcement.