Creeping Flesh, The

THE FLICK: For those with an appreciation for Victorian-style horror (Hammer did it best, but there’s quite a few others who took a crack at the big bosomed, starched-collar period-piece genre), the top billing of Christopher Lee and Peter Cushing in The Creeping Flesh is enough to garner considerable attention. For despite their frequent parings, the two rarely played a scene in the same room, let alone with any significant dialogue. This Freddie Francis directed thriller doesn’t offer much other than that, casting Cushing as an obsessive research-type and Lee as his priggish psychiatrist half-brother. The aforementioned “creeping flesh” comes from an ancient skeleton in Cushing’s lab which when exposed to water reconstitutes into a gooey slime monster with telekinetic powers. But before all the scares start, we have to watch Cushing inject his daughter with some “pure evil” solution, which sends her on a psychotic rampage. She winds up in Lee’s asylum, where he jealously blackmails his brother into divulging his scientific secrets all for the glory of some namby-pamby academic prize. It’s almost as nonsensical as another early Seventies horror cul-de-sac, “Scream and Scream Again,” in which Lee and Cushing also cameoed. Freddie Francis’ renowned cinematography is MIA, replaced by flat, dull settings with only flashes of shadow or color. Victorian horror always takes its sweet time, but here the titular “creeping flesh” doesn’t even make an appearance until the last 10-minutes of the film (unless you count a “creeping finger” which looks more like a woman’s sex toy). The screenplay instead focuses on Cushing’s daughter, who may or may not have inherited her mother’s mental illness, the effects of which are shown in a hilarious flashback montage of nymphomaniacal interludes and really, really bad table dancing. So is it worth sitting through all this to watch Lee and Cushing have a couple of five-minute conversations? If you’re a fan, absolutely. In fact, you’ll find moments of The Creeping Flesh irresistibly entertaining. Cushing’s daughter’s wild night on the town is full of unintentional humor and a silent movie sense of classic composition. And even though Cushing’s performance is atypically weak, Lee obviously relishes any chance to act without the cape and fangs. His line readings practically ooze with sinister charm and elevate the role into something more than a good actor in a very bad movie. THE FEATURES: Only a few related “monster” trailers. But the film itself comes from a reasonably clean print and is 16 X 9 enhanced.