And Then... There’s THEATRE OF DEATH (1966)

Another film that feels like a natural branch on the Christopher Lee/Edmond T. Gréville tree (but, to all evidence, isn’t) is Samuel Gallu’s THEATRE OF DEATH (1966). Still in need of a high-definition release, this curio was shot in October 1965 at Elstree Studios in London but is a contemporary story set in Paris, in and around the Theâtre de Mort, very much based on the by-then-defunct Theâtre du Grand Guignol. Lee stars as Philippe Darvas, a forceful second-generation writer-director at the playhouse who takes under his satanic wing a young newcomer, Nicole Chappell (Jenny Till), to the annoyance of its ascending star Dani Gireaux (Lelia Goldoni, SHADOWS). Dr. Charles Marquis (QUATERMASS AND THE PIT’s Julian Glover), a police surgeon recovering from what seems a pointlessly symbolic hand wound, starts to date Dani and forms a fascination with the theater's dramatic goings on - onstage and backstage - which unfold at the same time he is investigating a series of “vampire” murders performed with a knife-like instrument that leaves a triangular puncture mark. 

 

Written by Ellis Kadison (who is given a most unusual “by” credit on the film’s title card), this is a most unusual film, deserving of “collector’s item” status among the genre’s most epicurean palates despite its inability to be “read” or studied as an auteur piece. It’s gorgeously photographed in Bavaesque color widescreen by Gil Taylor (DR STRANGELOVE, REPULSION), effectively scored by Elizabeth Lutyens and one or two library tracks, and it wears its affection for the genre on its sleeve to such an extent that the viewer may fail to note right away what a radical turn it’s taking in regard to its modern day vampire content - years before COUNT YORGA, VAMPIRE (1970) or THE NIGHT STALKER (1973) but showing some awareness of Leslie H. Whitten’s novel PROGENY OF THE ADDER (1965). The script is co-authored by Roger Marshall, an alumnus of THE EDGAR WALLACE MYSTERY THEATRE and 15+ episodes of THE AVENGERS, whose thumb on the scale would seem to outweigh anything contributed by Kadison, whose other credits peak with RICHARD DIAMOND, PRIVATE DETECTIVE, THE GNOME-MOBILE and THE BANANA SPLITS ADVENTURE HOUR. 

At the film’s heart is a dominant Lee performance that takes his idol Conrad Veidt very much to heart; as a modern-day Shakespeare of Stage Slaughter, he’s absolutely convincing as a director, both nurturing and abusive, and there is a wonderful private moment in which we see him girding himself to pen a new work by immersing himself in the imagery of the horror cinema of the past. Another thing: this appears to be the first of what might be called Lee’s post-modern film appearances, by which I mean that he seems to have been cast in awareness of his newfound legacy as a horror star - and, at this point in his career, we can see that such recognition still pleased him. There is also something self-reflexive in the film’s use of a portrait painted after Lee’s character in Bava’s THE WHIP AND THE BODY (1963), which we’re never quite sure is meant to be Philippe Darvas or his father but keeps us immersed in thoughts of the horror genre as a legacy.

However, something happens around the midpoint as one of the more important characters is abruptly killed off - and it’s one of the film’s peculiarities that we only see the stage murders; the real murders either black out just shy of the death blow or are blacked out altogether. It’s an unusually effective death because it happens much as it does in life, catching the viewer off-balance, left questioning the facts (and the death) as it has its destabilizing effect on the other cast members and narrative. The balance of the film unreels with a different sort of alchemy, which is not without its points of interest (Goldoni gives a far more nuanced female lead performance than is often found in horror) but definitely leaves one processing and questioning what has happened. The vampire angle is ultimately disappointing but all of the atmosphere summoned by the aforementioned contemporary vampire films still to come is present here, fully formed, with an emphasis on the same dark, rain- and neon-slicked, metropolitan streets found in the Whitten novel. In a moment of particular panache on Gallu's part, a woman is victimized up against a French theater poster, the word "frisson" accompanying the death blow before the camera careens toward a screaming painted face.

THEATRE OF DEATH was released through Hemisphere Pictures in the States under the title BLOOD FIEND, though it also had television showings under its original title. There was a DVD release of THEATRE OF DEATH many years ago, which collectors may still be able to find at eBay, but I was able to find it streaming online as part of the Cultpix catalogue. 

(C) 2026 Tim Lucas. All rights reserved.

The Grèville/Margheriti Question, Pondered

I’m fascinated by the fact that the first three features in Severin’s THE EUROCRYPT OF CHRISTOPHER LEE, VOL 3 are projects involving the French writer-director Edmond T. Gréville: BEAT GIRL, THE HANDS OF ORLAC, and THE VIRGIN OF NUREMBERG (US: HORROR CASTLE). It’s the third one that strikes the chord of fascination because Gréville is credited only as one of three writers on the project… which was directed by Antonio Margheriti. But there is more to it than just that: VIRGIN also features the participation of Christopher Lee and Lucile Saint-Simon, both featured in THE HANDS OF ORLAC, which suggests to me that Gréville - a devotée of Grand Guignol theater - must have been posited as director of this project at some point and was the one who attracted Lee and Saint-Simon to join the cast. 

Margheriti’s films tend to be international co-productions so it would make sense that this one was made with a little money from France, especially given the presence of Saint-Simon (not to mention male lead Georges Rivière) in the cast. But the end product is identified as Italian only. Still, there is room for reasonable doubt that producer Marco Vicario - who owned the source story material - aimed higher than Margheriti when he was looking to assemble a package for production. Unfortunately, at the time this film was made, French production was not supportive of the horror genre and it’s unlikely that such a film could not have been made solely with French funding - which brings us back to Italy. 

This is theoretical: Margheriti had never directed a horror film before, so it’s possible that Vicario had originally booked him as the film’s special effects chief. If Vicario was unable to secure majority or equal French co-funding, he would have had to let Gréville go and find an Italian director to step in as soon as possible. (Ah! But did Gréville manage to direct any of VIRGIN before he was replaced?)

If you look at VIRGIN, it’s obvious that the film was shot on the same sets just vacated by Mario Bava’s THE WHIP AND THE BODY, so it may have been rushed into production to take cheap advantage of them while they were still standing. Margheriti had no horror track record, but he did have a track record as someone who had worked with major stars (Claude Rains, Tab Hunter) and made films that were screened all over the world, even in America. The film worked out - it’s one of my favorite Margheritis - but with these other two Grévilles brought to my attention in continuity, I can’t help but see it now as a project of mixed blood. The Gréville element makes too much sense. (Also, Bertrand Blier is credited as assistant director. I can imagine him assisting Grèville, but not Margheriti.)

On another related topic: Having seen VIRGIN again, and for the first time in such quality, I think I can see an explanation for the enmity that several of my Bava book interviewees told me about that existed between Bava and Margheriti. Here, Margheriti not only uses Bava’s leftover sets but appropriates many of his personal signature touches - his defining touches of Italian Gothic horror. Ironically, one of the original touches that Margheriti and his production team brings to VIRGIN - its emphases of red and black and its atmospheric placement of heavy red pleated curtains - Bava would in turn emphasize in his imminent BLOOD AND BLACK LACE. (Incidentally, VIRGIN’s credited set decorator Riccardo Domenici, who Margheriti was not using for the first time, had also been Bava’s production designer on BLACK SABBATH and THE WHIP AND THE BODY, two of his most ravishing productions - on a far higher plane than earlier Margheriti productions like HERCULES, PRISONER OF EVIL - which starred Bava’s last Hercules, Reg Park.) Of course, Margheriti also subsequently cast Bava’s BLACK SUNDAY discovery Barbara Steele in DANZA MACABRA/CASTLE OF BLOOD, adopted his valued supporting player Luciano Pigozzi (“Alan Collins”), and took over the direction of his fully-developed CRY NIGHTMARE/NAKED, YOU DIE project in the wake of DANGER: DIABOLIK. If we look at Margheriti’s later THE UNNATURALS and Bava’s own dream project LISA AND THE DEVIL, there are similarities that defy (or at least challenge) explanation. 

Of course, Margheriti was making a living like anyone else, and he had every right to hire whom he wanted to hire and shoot whatever project was offered to him. However, enmities tend to involve emotional triggers beyond their most obvious causes, just as they can be easily aggravated by those (on the receiving end, or in the peanut gallery) who don’t take them seriously and scoff at them until resentments begin to become more deliberately and pointedly returned.

(C) 2026 Tim Lucas. All rights reserved.