twins of evil

While classic horror fans are still waiting for Hammer titles like Horror of Dracula and The Curse of Frankenstein to make their Blu-ray debuts, one of the studio’s later productions has sneaked its way onto the hi-def format courtesy of niche label Synapse Films. From 1971, Twins of Evil is the third chapter in a pseudo-trilogy based on Joseph Sheridan Le Fanu’s vampiric story of Carmilla, which predated Bram Stoker’s Dracula by some 25 years. Literary pedigree aside, at this point in the studio’s history, Hammer was only interested in one thing: putting butts in seats.

The traditional gothic horror film was an endangered species. Scrambling to up the ante of gore and nudity for a rapidly changing audience and more lenient film censorship, Hammer was quick to embrace the “lesbian vampire” film: The Vampire Lovers, Lust for a Vampire, Countess Dracula…reworkings of the classic gothic ingredients with an erotic edge. Yet Twins of Evil, despite starring a pair of identical twin Playboy playmates (Madelaine and Mary Collinson), actually reigns in the sex and violence for a stylish and well-produced aberration in late Hammer horror history.

Put under the guardianship of their puritanical uncle Gustav (Peter Cushing in a marvelously nuanced role), Frieda and Maria stick out like two (sexy) sore thumbs in their new surroundings, a superstitious village ruled over by the darkly handsome but deeply masochistic Count Karnstein. When the Count inadvertently becomes one of the undead, he lures Frieda to the darkside and soon the forest is littered with corpses drained of blood.

Directed by 29-year-old John Hough (an anomaly in the old-school Hammer directing corp), Twins of Evil actually does inject some new life into the old formula. Hough’s shot selection is energetic and varied, a nice break from the stagey set-ups of the ‘50s and ‘60s. And Cushing is blessed with of his better roles, beginning the movie as a witch-hunting villain but ending as a tragic hero.

The film strikes a successful balance of class and crass exploitation. Most of the money shots – be they gore or a glimpse at the Collinson twins’ assets – are saved for the big finale, giving the story more room to develop than the studio’s previous female vampire entries. One tends to write off almost all of Hammer’s post-1970 output, but Twins of Evil proves there are still some tombs left to discover.

Synapse’s Blu-ray transfer looks outstanding and appears comfortably film-like. But that’s not all you get. A marvelous 84-minute documentary, The Flesh and The Fury, covers all of Hammer’s erotic horrors along with a featurette on the film’s props, deleted scenes, still gallery, trailer and an isolated music and effects track.