aka Die Schlangengrube und das Pendel, aka The Torture Chamber of Dr. Sadism, aka The Snake Pit and the Pendulum, aka Blood Demon

• Directed by Harold Reinl
• Written by Manfred R. Kohler
• Starring
  • Lex Barker
  • Christopher Lee
  • Karin Dor
  • Vladimir Medar

Since Hammer was a pretty successful studio for quite a while there (especially when compared against other European outfits of the time), it’s no wonder that imitators would spring up. This movie was made in Germany in very conscious imitation of that Hammer atmosphere, and despite the fact that it really makes very little sense, individual scenes show a love for the gothic horror genre that verges on worship. (I should also note that director Harold Reinl died in 1986 on the end of a knife held by his wife; you may insert your own joke here about taking devotion to the art form a liiiiiiiiiiiittle too far.)

We open with a man being led to his execution in Germany in… the 1700s? Surely not as far back as the 1600s, but maybe the 1800s. Anyway, he’s to be executed by unusual means, at least for the movies: He’s getting drawn and quartered. And as if that weren’t enough novelty, he’s also got a gold smiley-face mask on (trust those Germans to make execution a jovial occasion). Our necessary expository dialogue lets us know that he’s the murderer of twelve young virgins, with the thirteenth having escaped and brought the smack down on him. And once we’re convinced that yes, he’s a terrible baddie, the horses are given the switch and –

Gray skies are gonna clear uuuup,
put on a happy faaaace…

– we leap ahead, in quite an effective transition, to a one-legged storyteller relating the tale on the street corner, with crude but enthusiastic drawings as visual aids. The murderer’s name was Count Regula, by the way, the execution happened thirty-five years ago, and the storyteller’s more than he appears, he’s actually tracking down a man named Roger Mont Elise (Lex Barker), a grown-up orphan who knows nothing of his parentage, but just happens to be the spitting image of the judge presiding at Regula’s execution. (Just so you don’t miss that, you know, that might be important.) The storyteller finds Roger later and gives him a letter inviting him to the Castle Andomai, where answers about his inheritance will be revealed — signed, Count Regula! (Though Roger missed the story earlier and has never heard of Regula.)

As Roger starts his travels, the storyteller journeys to another town and encounters Lilian von Brabant (Karin Dor, apparently Barbara Steele’s long-lost twin), who just happens to be the spitting image of the young woman who escaped Regula’s clutches! (That might be important too, maybe.)

Near the end of the road, Roger has trouble finding anyone who will tell him of the Castle Andomai. He finally gets the goods on Regula and the castle from a scraggly-bearded holy man carrying a balsa-wood cross (a little girl said the holy man’s a saint, but since that’s impossible because he’s still alive, I think the girl should be declared a heretic and burned at the stake). Roger also picks up a hitchhiker, a burly priest named Fabian (Vladimir Medar, who thinks he’s Brian Blessed). They set out for the ruins of Andomai despite the wimpy coachman’s misgivings; halfway through the woods, the come upon black-clad horsemen setting on another carriage. They drive them off, rescuing Lilian, whom we’ve met before, and her maidservant Babette. (No, nothing was stolen — although Lilian then mentions off-handedly that their driver was taken. This off-handed attitude toward the hired help is not a singular occurrence, as we shall see.) And since they’re going the same way, they all share Roger’s carriage.

It’s the Heisenberg compensators again, Captain!

Of course, it’s cozy and companionable in the carriage. The poor coachman, however, gets instead to see some of the great images of the movie: He starts seeing body parts sticking out of trees, like you’d expect after a bizarre transporter malfunction. (Then he hears three black crows call, and this being Good Friday, he takes it as a bad omen, stops the carriage, and tells the passengers about the crows. Not a word about, “And by the way, there are freakin’ body parts sticking out of trees!”)

It doesn’t get any better for the poor man as they journey into night, for them he starts driving over bodies in the road, and seeing hanging corpses from all the tree limbs. In a fright, he dies of a heart attack. And it’s only then, when the menfolk get out to examine him, that they say, “Hey! What’s up with all the corpses?”

While Roger and Fabian are investigating the corpses, a spooky old geezer sneaks up and hijacks the carriage with the women aboard. (Call him Anathol, because that’s his name, as we’ll find out later.) Notably, Roger cries out, “Lilian!” Did I mention something about disregarding the hired help?

“Good evening. My name is Anathol, and can I interest you fine people in any of these quality Amway products? No?”

The menfolk cut overland, following the sound of a ringing bell, through the end-all be-all of gothic graveyards (where the grave of Regula himself yawns emptily), and to the ruins of the castle itself, where a trapdoor creaks open for them. Likea couple of dunces, they just can’t wait to trap themselves in the dungeon beneath the ruins, where rising and dropping portcullises lead them like rats through a maze to a chamber decorated with frescoes of Bosch’s Garden of Earthly Delights (specifically visible are the chick-headed figure eating a man, and the man with the flute shoved up his anus). There they discover Anathol, now dressed as the butler, and Lilian, who’s completely off her rocker. Anathol explains that he gave her a mild soothing drug to calm her after her experiences, but if this is mild, then the strong mix would probably vaporize your skull, because she’s babbling on about how nice it is to have visitors, and doesn’t recognize Roger or Fabian at all. (It only takes five minutes for Roger to remember to ask after Babette too — in case you’re wondering, Anathol has pressed her into service as the other household servant.) Lilian finally snaps out of it, but she’s still none too stable, and finding a painting under a drapery with her and Roger’s faces in it doesn’t settle her any. No, it’s not actually her and Roger; it’s her mom and his dad, who were the crucial instigators of Regula’s demise. Is anyone not getting this yet?

Fabian, who has along the way revealed himself to be a gun-toting highwayman instead of a priest, leads them out through a conveniently open portcullis, to rescue Babette. (Yup, she was abducted and put on a torture rack while no one was paying attention to her.) But then they have to go through a passageway lined with skulls, and Babette freaks and runs off. (You know, if the writer was so intent on having her miss so much of the action, he probably should have killed her off back when the ladies’ carriage was attacked.) Fabian goes after her and runs into Anathol, who manages to absorb two bullets without ill effects — because he’s already dead! Boogah boogah!

Fabian rejoins Roger and Lilian (“Gee, couldn’t find Babette, hope she’ll do okay on her own”), and led by an ominous voice, they join Anathol in the Mad Science Lounge (a pretty cool one, actually — in addition the dungeon decor, there are enough alembics and pelican flasks and whatnot to run a mid-sized alchemical university), where the body of Count Regula is displayed, in pieces, in a glass case. After dismissing Fabian to another dungeon room because he has a cross on his person, Fabian slits his own wrist to let green goo drip on the glass. Regula’s limbs jump back together, he sits up, Anathol removes his mask — and it’s Christopher Lee with dead guy greasepaint on his face!

Roger, Fabian, and Lilian in the Hall of Skulls (available in kit form at Home Depot).

Now, for some explanation, see. Regula had discovered the secret of life eternal, which naturally requires the blood of thirteen girls to concoct (and they have to die in fear, under torture). Lilian’s mother, by escaping, had kind of put the kibosh on that, but Regula had a powerful enough mix that it could revive him now — first to take revenge on the son of the judge who put him away, and then to use Lilian to complete the formula! Oh no!

So Roger ends up tied to the floor of another faux-Bosch-painted room, and what should descend from the ceiling? A big ol’ swinging pendulum, that’s what. (We even get a shot of rats scurrying around in the corner — not that they actually figure in the scene, but it’s as if the filmmakers just wanted to tell the audience, “Yes, we know exactly what we’re ripping off.”) Lilian, meanwhile, is sent on a quest to free him — the idea being that the horrors she encounters will whip her into the necessary state of frenzied fear for the formula’s efficacy. Thus, she encounters scorpions, spiders, lizards, vultures eating a mangled corpse (we actually saw this earlier, but that was when big strong Roger was there for support), and such, until ending up on a plank over a pit of snakes — and the plank slowly retracts. At the last possible moment (and thus the greatest level of fear), Anathol snatches her off the plank to drain her blood.

Christopher Lee as Count Regula. There’s no joke here; you don’t laugh at Christopher Lee unless he wants you to.

But wait! Roger has escaped his fate by prying a stone from the floor and throwing it at the swinging pendulum, causing it to swing off-kilter and slice across his bonds instead of his gut. And Fabian has also escaped, so they high-tail it to the lab, where the presence of Fabian’s cross keeps everything in the beakers from fizzing. No! Regula’s foiled by a piece of jewelry! He tries to attack Roger with an axe, but at that moment, the hourglass which shows how much time he has before he needs the formula runs out, and both he and Anathol collapse to the ground in a claymation dissolution much like at the end of The Evil Dead. Then, as required in the Mad Scientist Engineering Code, the castle collapses around them — leaving Roger and Lilian standing in the midst of the ruins as the sky lightens with dawn. And there comes Fabian around the corner with the carriage — and Babette beside him! (Had you forgotten her yet?) The other two climb aboard, and they ride off into the sunrise.

Now. I don’t usually do such an in-depth play-by-play, but I wanted to do so to point out two things in particular:

A) This movie has got some great visuals. I’ve already pointed out the transition from the execution at the beginning, and the forest o’bodies later on. The scenes with vultures chowing down on unidentified body parts are also memorable, and the character of Anathol is so perfect one wonders if the actor weren’t born to play an undead henchman/manservant. The dungeon set is fun, both bright and dingy (you figure it out). And of course, Christopher Lee always has fun with his roles.

B) Not a damned thing here makes sense. What the hell is with the bodies all through the forest, anyway? And what’s the point of that whole drugged “Welcome to my humble abode” thing Lilian does? Why is the holy man carrying a balsa wood cross? Who were the riders in black? Why the hell didn’t Anathol get the cross physically removed or confined, instead of letting it drift around like a bad check? Why have the bodies of the other twelve victims stayed in a state of perfect preservation, only to fade away when Regula dies? What the hell was up with Babette playing peek-a-boo with the plot?

The most disheartening thing about the movie, in looking back, is that even the good parts are in no way original. That’s telegraphed to us from the moment someone mentions that Christopher Lee is playing “Count Regula.”

Oh, and I haven’t mentioned the music that hang around this movie like a Burrito Grande fart in an elevator. Half of it sounds like it belongs in a “weepie” contemporary to the production; the other half is swiped right from Scooby-Doo.

Watch it for the forest of corpses, and for the split-second view of the über-gothic cemetery. But if it’s Hammer you’re hankering for, remember: Only real Hammer is real Hammer.

Some Notable Totables:

• body count: 5 (not counting all the ones that qualify as “set dressing”)
• breasts: 0
• explosions: 1
• dream sequences: 0, I think
• ominous thunderstorms: 0
• actors who’ve appeared on Star Trek: 0