#166: The Abominable Dr. Phibes
Silly seventies serial killer thriller with style
This review was originally posted to Twitter on August 24, 2019.
Initial release: Spring 1971
Director: Robert Fuest
By the end of his career, Vincent Price has been in over a hundred films of all kinds; as such he’s remembered for a lot of roles — but few are as delightfully campy as his serial killing, wax-faced organist, in this early precursor to the Saw franchise.
It’s 1925 and doctors around London are turning up dead in a series of bizarre murders, seemingly modeled after the Biblical ten plagues of Egypt. As the bodies pile up, an intrepid detective finds a connection: all the victims were doctors who botched an operation on the wife of one Dr. Phibes, previously thought dead following a car accident but having turned up alive, but horribly scared and unable to speak. Like a villainous Darkman, Phibes uses makeup, prosthetics and acoustics to reconstruct himself, and enacts a years-long plot to take revenge on the doctors whose neglect led to his wife’s death.
For an early seventies flick by American International Pictures, this is a surprisingly smart, well-constructed horror comedy that revels in the insane ways that the titular Dr. Phibes kills his victims, each one weirder than the last, all while Scotland Yard scrambles to catch up. As this is an American International Pictures film, you can expect a certain campy style, and the film does remain true to it for the most part, yet it’s still a bit of a step forward from the workmanlike productions that were common in Hollywood genre film in the 1960s.
Fuest’s camera work won’t wow anyone, but it’s still a cut above for the average AIP flick, and he does surprise you sometimes with a particularly inspired shot; the special effects aren’t great either (bottled blood looks more like cherry cough syrup) but they get the job done.
The set design, however, now that deserves a mention — the interiors for Dr. Phibes’ creepy manor is done up in a gloriously garish 1920s art deco-on-acid theme that’s complemented by a great score, ostensibly being played by a clockwork orchestra (who are obviously guys in costume.) Price himself is entertaining as always, and in fact he’s working extra hard for the character given that Phibe’s face is essentially a mask and Price is forced to gesture more. The additional theatricality really plays to the strength of an actor for whom theatricality is lifeblood. Opposite him is Peter Jeffrey as Inspector Trout (a running gag is that nobody can remember which fish he’s named after) and the legendary Joseph Cotten, as one of Phibes’ planned victims and the chief surgeon on the operation that failed to save Phibes’ wife.
While the early part of the film seems like it might play things with a straight face in spite of how goofy it all is, it doesn’t take long for things to take on a darkly comedic vibe, especially with the antics of Scotland Yard. This is a schlocky, campy horror romp that refuses to take itself seriously, and Price shows, once and for all, that he’s still got what it takes to be a memorable film villain, even at 61. It’s proof that American International Pictures still had some life, even after the fame that Roger Corman’s Poe Cycle brought them had faded. The silly murder methods and the disfigured but brilliant killer are reminiscent of the much later Saw series, though this is far less serious (and all the better for it.) If you like fun early 70s schlocky horror, Dr. Phibes has what you need.
