Tonight, in honor of the Halloween season, I watched Theatre of Blood with Vincent Price. It is not in any way great cinema: it's yet another movie where Price takes ghoulish revenge on all the fools that ever doubted him. Standard stuff for him, really, but the magic of Vincent Price is that, no matter how goofy or unbelievable a movie is on its face, I never doubt for a second his commitment to the role, or the fact that he's having a ball playing it. The movie is not as surreal or as visually inventive as, say, The Abominable Dr. Phibes, and it strains credibility that the critics he is dispatching are quite as oblivious as they turn out to be. I mean, honestly, once a few of your peers have been murdered, wouldn't you be just the teensiest bit suspicious to come home and find that strange people had broke into your home and made you a meal of mystery meat? Also, the identity of his handlebar-mustachioed hippie protege is not quite the mystery that the film seems to think it is. But it is fun seeing him playing a gay hairdresser with an afro (!), and for once he plays opposite a female lead (Diana Rigg) that can match him in the acting department. In short: I love Vincent Price. Tomorrow perhaps I'll finally watch Witchfinder General!
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