madhouse

Mixing and matching monsters (Frankenstein vs The Wolf Man vs Dracula) always seemed to have successful results, particularly during the prime years of Universal’s gothic throwdowns. But pairing the men who played the monsters? Not so much. There were several attempts to provide horror stars like Peter Cushing, Boris Karloff, Christopher Lee and Vincent Price a venue in which they could all shine without being buried in make-up, but most (like Roger Corman’s The Raven) were played for laughs rather than scares.

Madhouse (1974) was the last collaboration between Vincent Price and American International Pictures, who had developed a mutually beneficial relationship that lasted nearly two decades and cemented Price’s reputation as the “gentlemen scholar” of fright flicks. Although, as a stand-alone picture, it’s far from the movie one would want to go out with, adding old pro Peter Cushing to double-down on the marquee value makes the movie somewhat of a nostalgic swan song for the sort of classy British horror than was then a dying breed.

The role of Paul Toombes, a fading horror film star whose career was marred by the murder of his wife (a murder of which he was accused then acquitted of by reason of insanity), fits Price’s acting style to a tee. Cushing, whose role is more of a cameo, plays Toombes friend and screenwriter. While Robert Quarry, fresh from his cult success as Count Yorga, Vampire, is positioned as their nemesis: a ruthless producer who casts resurrects Toombes most famous character – Doctor Death – for a Dark Shadows-style TV show.

Madhouse includes a few black-gloved killer POVs in an attempt to ape the popular giallo-slashers of the time, but always falls back on its most valuable property: Vincent Price himself. Blacking out whenever he views a clip from his old films, Toombes is blamed for another series of murders committed by a caped figure dressed in his Doctor Death costume. But is it truly Toombes himself or someone with a bitter industry grudge?

The film is like a tossed salad of horror tropes that only tangentially relate to one another, Adrienne Corri’s disfigured ex-lover being the most egregious offender. But Price’s Doctor Death makeup is memorably effective and when the time comes for the actor to exact revenge, he quite literally brings the house down, preceded by an enjoyably overwrought monologue that could have been lifted from any one of his films over the last 20 years.

Newly re-mastered in HD, Madhouse looks very good on Blu-ray, especially considering the soft-focus style most AIP films used at the time. It’s paired with a theatrical trailer, featurette and audio commentary by Film Historian David Del Valle who does a great job introducing the cast and where the movie stands in their respective careers. It’s another surprising – and surprising affordable – special edition from Kino Lorber.