When I was a youngster looking forward to each weekend’s broadcasts of SCREAM-IN, where films were played and played again, there were only two films I was disappointed to see return: the terminally dull FROZEN ALIVE (1964, so bad it was ribbed for weeks by the host, The Cool Ghoul) and THE BEAST OF MOROCCO (1966), the only alleged horror movie ever to talk me into changing the channel. In more recent years, having become a more tolerant and curious viewer, I’ve sometimes wondered if I was too young to pick up on what that film was really doing. Now there is a new Region A Blu-ray of the film, under its original title THE HAND OF NIGHT, from Vinegar Syndrome, which I watched last night to see if there might be an opportunity for reconciliation.
Happily, I found it a far more interesting and well-made film than I could appreciate in my pre-teens. It stars William Sylvester (GORGO, 2001: A SPACE ODYSSEY) as an evasive American in Morocco who seems hellbent on doctoring a broken heart with alcohol - however, after sweating through a nightmarish dream during air travel, his chance meeting with a fellow passenger, an archaeologist (Edward Underdown), tempts him to a party where he sees a female fellow guest, the sight of whom makes him leave abruptly. His sudden exit is noticed by the archaeologist's young assistant, which captures her interest and involves her with him. Ultimately, Sylvester’s character ties the past from which he’s running to the archaeologist's current excavation, which has unearthed the resting places of a coven of unusual vampires, whose Queen (Aliza Gur), present at the party, absorbs energy rather than blood from the living and is unaffected by traditional Christian symbols of goodness.
Directed by Frederic Goode from a script by Bruce Stewart, THE HAND OF NIGHT is one of those rare vampire films that try to do something new with the subgenre, like Leslie Stevens’ INCUBUS (1966) or Robert Hartford-Davis’ INCENSE FOR THE DAMNED/BLOOD SUCKERS (1971). Though well-acted and photographed and approached with some ambition, it’s not entirely successful because it takes an aggressively literary approach to its material, each scene focusing largely on expository and philosophical talk, with only a few short outbursts reward us with anything cinematic. One of the most intriguing aspects of the film is that the writer-director team conspire to raise some gooseflesh by having images from Sylvester’s opening dream recur in different guises as the story unfolds in reality.
It’s a treat to finally see William Jordan’s 1.66:1 widescreen views of the Moroccan scenery in its intended widescreen ratio, with a proper volume of color pumped back into the picture, which always looked washed-out on TV. I will add that, while I’ve never particularly been a fan of Diane Clare (PLAGUE OF THE ZOMBIES, THE VULTURE), she makes a very appealing impression here as the stubborn, insistent and resilient female lead. I found her far more compelling than Aliza Gur’s vampire queen. This was her final film before disappearing into married family life.
The commentary by Jonathan Rigby and Kevin Lyons find the two of them also pleasantly surprised upon renewing acquaintance with the movie. I was surprised to hear that they both found Clare effective at playing such an “unlikable” character. Research must be hard to dig up on this picture, as they've unearthed no great revelations about it, but they do bring insight to the table (for example, Lyons notes that the excavation backstory anticipates the opening scenes of THE EXORCIST seven years later), as well as being generally knowledgeable and lively speakers. They primarily discuss how well the film has aged while focusing mostly on the past film and theatrical triumphs of the cast, as well as their sometimes tragic life stories. The other two extras, interviews with a couple of men who were on the Associated British PathĂ© (production company) payroll as sound editor and production accountant, respectively, are more functional than illuminating.
This disc is a limited edition of only 2000 copies so interested buyers are advised to act soon. You can order from here: https://vinegarsyndrome.com/collections/frontpage/products/the-hand-of-night
(C) 2026 Tim Lucas. All rights reserved.
