Tomb

Here's a gimmicky horror film that manages to be lurid and quaint at the same time. Chamber of Horrors (1966) is most famous for bizarrely alerting the audience when the murder scenes are about to commence, in case squeamish viewers would prefer to shield their eyes. Any viewers who actually do this would, of course, imagine much more gruesome horrors than what actually appears onscreen. The violence is quite tame, but apparently not quite tame enough for ’60s-era television, which is what this odd little gem was made for. Originally intended as a TV pilot, Chamber of Horrors was instead expanded into a feature film.

The film's introduction is unforgettable. “Ladies and gentlemen,” announces the booming voice of William Conrad, “the motion picture you are about to see contains scenes so terrifying, the public must be given grave warning! Therefore, the management has instituted visual and audible warnings at the beginning of each of the four supreme fright points! The Horror Horn...” (at this point, a loud klaxon is heard) “...and the Fear Flasher!” (The screen suddenly strobes with light.) “The Fear Flasher is the visual warning. The Horror Horn is the audible warning. Turn away when you see the Fear Flasher! Close your eyes when you hear the Horror Horn!” (More flashes and bells ensue.)

If you encounter this film on late-night television (as I did), this come-on inspires powerful curiosity. With the audience now hooked, the film goes on to introduce the villain of the piece, a mad strangler by the name of Jason Cravatte (Patrick O'Neal). The fiend is arrested and sentenced to death by hanging, but escapes in a spectacular (and gruesome) manner while being transported by train. Handcuffed to a brake wheel, Cravatte manages to reach a nearby fire axe (Fear Flasher! Horror Horn! Way too early!) and uses it to remove the wheel from its housing. He then leaps from the train, just as it's crossing a bridge over a river. Whoops! As the heavy wheel drags the madman to the bottom of the river, he chops off his own hand (off camera, we just see the water turn red) in order to free himself.

Oh no, the strangler is at large again! Who can stop this madman? Well, how about a trio of eccentric wax museum curators who dabble in amateur sleuthing? This team of mystery enthusiasts (Cesare Danova, Wilfrid Hyde-White and “little person” Jose Rene Ruiz, a.k.a. Tun Tun) take an immediate and intense interest in the case, while using the new rash of murders as inspiration for their wax sculpture tableau.

The killer, meanwhile, has replaced his severed hand with a prosthetic socket into which a hook or various other instruments of murder may be attached. He also conscripts an unwitting confederate in the form of beautiful prostitute Marie Champlain (Laura Devon), who agrees to help the handi-capable assassin while remaining blissfully ignorant of his crimes. The scene in which Cravatte wins her trust is played like a seduction, with the smooth-talking maniac gently running the tip of his prosthetic hook along the lass's plunging neckline. While easily misled, the girl is actually pure of heart and quickly joins forces with the good guys once she learns the true nature of her partner's nefarious plans. Like the film itself, Marie is a curious mix of cynicism and innocence.

Chamber of Horrors, which has never been available on home video before, is finally being released on DVD by Warner Home Video, on a double-feature disc, with The Brides of Fu Manchu (1966).