Why this is paradise! That's what it is, paradise!
Welcome back to my Dark Corner of this Sick World
'Between you and me it's a filthy place'
There's one good reason for us to review Cauldron of Blood
'Ah, I've often felt it was the finest thing I've ever done'
I'll be honest, he's done finer, this is after all, Boris Karloff
'Yes, I've heard of him'
The plot is simple, playboy art critic Claude Marchand
'Cheers'
is writing an article about reclusive artist Franz Badelescu
'I once fathered a griffin'
who lost his sight in a car accident
'But just remember that you are blind'
Yeah, that's the sort of thing that slips a person's memory
'I must say, I question the wisdom of receiving this man, Tanya'
Badalescu is working on a highly paid sculpture commission, but unbeknowst to him,
he is sculpting clay around the posed skeletons of people murdered by his wife and her lover
'I'm doomed to never see the beauty of my own creations.'
Now, I'm tempted to say that somewhere in there is a cracking idea
'It sounds commercial at least'
I'm also tempted to say that, be you ever so blind, when you're sculpting clay around human skeletons you have some questions about where they came from
'There seems to be some kind of epidemic in a town nearby'
And they all left their bodies to art. Well that seems standard.
'I am delighted'
But will Marchand accept it so easily?
He's sniffing around
No, not sniffing around, getting laid
taking glamour pictures
flying his plane, and doing absolutely nothing to suggest that he might in any way be part of the story
'Hey, where's all the action?'
Finally, an hour in, Marchand does bump into the plot.
This guy is an art critic? I bet he's banned from every museum in the world
'I'm terribly sorry, but I really got upset'
Why are you apologising? He destroyed a valuable sculpture.
'Here I want to help.'
Now Marchand springs into action and throws a costume party
'He's asking too many questions'
You mean none? He doesn't even notice someone murdered at his own party
'passed out again huh?'
Speaking of the party
'I know someone who used to be an actor... he has trunks of old costumes'
how convenient
What the hell kind of actor has these costumes?!
'It takes all kinds'
While Marchand's interest in skeletal hands inside a statue is roughly on a par with his interest in one of his friends going missing
'I don't understand what's become of Elga, she's not here'
'How can you tell?'
His girlfriend actually gives a shit
which goes well. But help is at hand as Karloff's mute maid spills the beans via a lengthy game of murder charades with a gypsy
I have no idea what that means? How many words?'
Three words.
Chicken dance?
cripple? hunchback?
Hunchback right. Ok Rabbit? Goat? Hat?
OK, move on, hair? stroking? combing? grooming?
Woman... lady? Dame?
The hunchback of Notre Dame!
Yay!
'That's what I figured.'
who then, rather than just passing on the information, uses it to make her fortune telling look good
'Who's going to be the next victim?'
Someone very close to you'
Still, Marchand does eventually go to save his girlfriend
who has already saved herself.
Which is nice, but does make you question why Marchand is top of the credits or indeed in the movie at all
'After all I'm supposed to be an art critic'
Interspersed into this plot is a sadomasochistic dream
featuring the melting face of Boris Karloff
a weirdly shot rape scene which seems to have no bearing on anything.
and random shots of a vulture
'Oh yes. Frutsa'
But my biggest question is the same I had about the similarly themed Color Me Blood Red: why?
'I think it sounds just terrible'
The victims aren't enemies of Karloff's wife, this isn't a handy way of disposing of bodies
- that might actually make sense
'That sounds even worse'
This is a successful artist who can't sculpt without a real skeleton in the middle
'It worked didn't it'
I really feel like that's a limitation that would have stopped him from becoming successful.
'at last it is finished.'
Obviously, there's not enough charades in film, but I think we all agree on that now
What great movie scenes would be vastly improved if the information was got across by a charade?
Answer in the comments below, and if you don't subscribe, then I don't know how you live with yourself
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