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The vivid mind-movies conjured by the fiction of H.P. Lovecraft (1890-1937) can be so stunning that it's a bit surprising to learn that a cinematic version wasn't even attempted until 1963, when Roger Corman and screenwriter Charles Beaumont adapted "The Case of Charles Dexter Ward" as The Haunted Palace, starring Vincent Price. That film is often falsely attributed to Poe, who really only provided the title and a few lines of verse. After its successful release, however, a number of filmmakers suddenly realized that they had a rich literary vein to mine and the later 1960s saw cinematic attempts made at "The Colour Out of Space" (as Die Monster Die), "The Shuttered Room" and "The Dunwich Horror." All had their good points, including able performances by such stars as Boris Karloff, Nick Adams, Dean Stockwell, Oliver Reed, and Carol Lynley, but none of them could quite manage to hit that eldritch mark which gave the Lovecraft tales their unique feel. This was only natural, because the writer's densely antiquarian, descriptive prose was an integral part of the process of atmosphere-building in his stories; a process not easily adapted to 60s drive-in cinema.
It wasn't really until 1985 that Stuart Gordon's hugely successful Reanimator appeared, followed closely by From Beyond (1986). The stygian floodgates were finally opened, and The Unnamable (1988), The Resurrected (1992), Necronomicon (1993), Dagon (2001), Dreams in the Witch House (2005), Cthulhu (2007) and many others would follow. While some of these are quite enjoyable as horror films, the addition of splattery grue and the naked breasts of nubiles takes them even further away from Lovecraft's intent than the films of the 60s did. One can imagine the gentleman from Providence recoiling in dismay (if not outright revulsion) if he were able to watch these films now.
It can be argued that the most successful Lovecraftian films aren't even direct attempts at adaptation at all, but are those which managed to incorporate the author's ideas of unimaginably vast aeons and entities so unlike us that we can barely contemplate their true nature without risking madness. Films such as Ridley Scott's Alien (1979) and John Carpenter's The Thing (1982) managed to accomplish this with superb results.
Direct adaptations or not, these were generally full-length feature films with a theatrical run, sometimes with an even more successful video release to follow. What isn't generally known to the viewing public is that during this same time period, there were actually a number of short films being made by amateur auteurs whose attempts at Lovecraft were often closer to the original works in tone and style than were the more well-known versions with their much bigger budgets. This idea makes sense if you think about it, since it's extremely difficult to successfully pad out a short story to feature film length, and the lack of funding for major special effects often requires the suggestion, rather than the depiction, of horror. These short films, then, reflect Lovecraft's tendency for escalating moods of dread over show-stopping set pieces. The grue is sometimes there, of course, but in small, concentrated doses that are usually all the more effective for their brevity.
Since 2004, Lurker Films has been releasing these short films on DVD as part of the HP Lovecraft Collection. While most of them have been shown over the years at the Lurker-sponsored "HP Lovecraft Film Festival" in Oregon, the lack of easy access to short films in the U.S. makes them a real treat for the Lovecraft connoisseur. The volumes are numbered, but it is certainly not necessary to watch them in an particular order.
Out of Mind tells the tale of young Randolph Carter, a late 20th century artist who inherits a mysterious book from a deceased uncle. Jarring events begin to occur as Carter seemingly begins to travel back and forth in time during vivid dream fugues in which he becomes his ancestor, Dr. George Angel. Simultaneously, the film follows the real H.P. Lovecraft, wonderfully embodied by Christopher Heyerdahl (subsequently of the Masters of Horror episode "The Black Cat", and such TV shows as Stargate Atlantis and Smallville.).
The film very loosely echoes "The Case of Charles Dexter Ward" and "The Dream Quest of Unknown Kadath" with its dream worlds and themes of ancestral reincarnation and possession. There is even a gruesome scene or two that might have sneaked out of Gordon's Reanimator. The main focus, however, is in examining some of Lovecraft's basic philosophies. In fact, by having Heyerdahl quoting directly from the author's letters, the film practically becomes a primer for the novice. Heyerdahl's performance is amazing. He really does bear an eerie resemblance to Lovecraft. You can easily succumb to the illusion that you are actually watching the writer himself. Certain sequences are digitally-rendered emulations of ancient black-and-white film stock, with Heyerdahl's Lovecraft sitting at his writing desk, gazing intently into the camera and expounding his philosophy into a large twenties-era microphone. The effect is uncanny, and, in fact, director St. Jean reports that many viewers asked him where he had found the old footage! The average Lovecraft scholar would instantly realize just how unlikely such a prospect would be, but it certainly vouches for the performance. There is also a nice bit at the beginning in which Lovecraft is walking through the woods making half-barked, half-gasped attempts to pronounce "Cthulhu," which, after all, is just a human approximation of a name normally uttered "by beings whose vocal chords were not like man's".
The film is very well shot on location in Montreal, the musical score is atmospheric and never intrusive, and there are some genuinely eerie sound effects. For having such a low budget, there are few anachronism here. Even the 1920's clothing, hair styles, and modes of speech are realistic. If there is a problem, it's that the whole thing never quite gels as a story. The forward and backward time travel, the mix of fictional and real-life characters, and actors playing double roles cause the plot to become a bit muddled and confusing. Even so, the whole thing is made more than worthwhile by Heyerdahl's performance. A fine moment comes when Lovecraft eventually meets the 20th century Randolph Carter in a sylvan dream world, peering forward at the younger man and calmly, politely inquiring, "What am I doing on your shirt?", as the film deftly incorporates the real-world multimedia popularity of the author into the plot.
The Music of Erich Zann is a fairly straightforward adaptation of the short story. Robert Ruevain plays the rather bland lead, who is unfortunate enough to take an apartment just below that of mute, tormented violinist Erich Zann (well played with a touch of Dr Caligari by Robert Alexander). Unfortunately, the threadbare sets, soft lighting, cheap 1970's๑era video effects, and a bacchanalian crescendo of threadbare proportions ultimately make this a not-so-exciting entry. Also, Bach might not have been the wisest choice to represent the hideously compelling, god-monster repelling, violin music of Erich Zann. Perhaps Paganini as interpreted by John Cage might have worked better.
My Necronomicon is a very short black and white entry that actually makes for a nice definition of what might happen to you if you read the Necronomicon without proper protection.
The Outsider is, unfortunately, the weakest link here. Having little to do with Lovecraft's story, it's amateurish and a bit pretentious, rather reminiscent of those old TV ads for "Obsession" cologne that poked fun at Bergman's Persona. There is some ok monster makeup at the end, but it's too long even at 6 minutes.
Extras include a so-so interview with the cast & crew of The Music of Erich Zann, and the third part of a typically fascinating 2005 interview with Lovecraft scholar S.T. Joshi, here focusing on HPL's correspondence, some background for the main stories on this volume, and Lovecraft's views on the mysterious beings known to us as cats.
The featured film on the Pickman's Model, volume is actually entitled Chilean Gothic. This contemporary updating of the tale follows journalist Gabriel's investigation into the horrible murder of his friend, Anibal, who had previously vanished for nearly two months before his mangled body was finally discovered. The only clue is the name "Richard Upton Pickman," found amongst Anibal's papers. Gabriel's subsequent unraveling of the mystery of Anibal's death leads to, as Pickman himself puts it, "a trip with no return!".
Director Ricardo Harrington's use of Chilean locations and actors gives the film a unique feel, with nicely done tracking shots and interesting, off-kilter camera angles. The transfer is rather grainy, but this only adds to it's dark, grimy feel. The musical score is ominous and integrates well with the constant dripping, echoing, and electric buzzing noises on the soundtrack.
Unfortunately, the story eventually becomes convoluted and self-consciously enigmatic once Pickman (played by a bestial Renzo Oviedo) is introduced, and most viewers will probably get lost as they're trying to figure out whether Pickman, Gabriel, or the thing that seems to be locked in the cistern are the ghoulish throwbacks. It is hard to tell, but instead of providing a tantalizing mystery, there is only frustration, especially after the generally gripping first half. None of Pickman's paintings are shown, although Goya's horrifying "Saturn" and a glimpse of a Francis Bacon monstrosity do seem to have been chosen to represent them.
Goya's "Saturn" also makes an appearance in Giovanni Furore's Pickman's Model. The film begins with a gratuitous sequence involving a model (somewhat resembling Asia Argento) visiting Pickman's dank, candlelit basement studio, where she promptly meets an unfortunate end (she should have paid more attention to those specimen jars containing vaguely definable bits of fleshy tissue that seem to be used as decorations). From that point on, the film pretty much emulates the events of Lovecraft's story, although this version, too, takes place in modern times. Pickman is played with sinister intent by Lorenzo Mori, but he should have worked a bit more on the fake-looking limp he brings to the character.
Pickman's paintings are kept off-screen in this version, too, although when protagonist Mr Marsh views them and finds himself reeling from their evil aura, disturbing black and white images are flashed by to convey content. Dismembered body parts, amputees wearing antique metal prosthetics, skeletal beasts, and unusual deformities resemble the work of artist Joel Peter Witkin crossed with the films of Georges Melies. While these might act as a disturbing signifier ("My paintings are reflected drops of the horrible human psyche.") they don't really convey just what it is that Pickman has been painting, causing the horrible implications of the photo to be reduced at the end. Still, it's a fine moment when the film finally does show that photo in a superbly creepy reveal, featuring a very disturbing glimpse of the eponymous model.
Despite a couple of minor missteps, this is still an enjoyable adaptation. The film is nicely shot and acted, with some decently dank and shadowy sets and creepy sound fx floating in the mix. It also boasts a superbly ominous soundtrack by Francesco di Mauro that really helps to set the mood.
Cathy Welch's version of Pickman's Model, shot in Texas in 1981, is the oldest of the films on this disc. Here, a writer somehow feels a psychic connection to Pickman's sinister paintings. The film strays pretty far for the original story, and ends up seemingly confused as to whether it's dealing with a ghoul, or wereghouls, or just a couple of hairy crazies with bad teeth. The film is not without it's very low-budget charms, however, such as the decrepit, chaotic set for Pickman's basement studio, which actually conveys more of an evil air than do either of the other, relatively more expensive versions found on this disc. Pickman is played by Marc Mahan as a cross between Peter Boyle and Bob Newhart with a Texas accent. He overacts, but manages to come across as compellingly sleazy and creepy anyway. In this version , the paintings are shown, and they're rather ordinary (the artwork looks like something comic book artist Gray Morrow might have done), but they do accurately portray the scenes described by Lovecraft in his story. Even better, as the writer looks at them, they tend to jump to short, disturbing "live" enactments. Despite the overall amateurism on display, the entire scene in Pickman's basement studio is actually a pretty good horror sequence!
In the Vault is a 6-minute computer-animated short by Geoffrey D. Clark telling the tale of Lovecraft's unfortunate gravedigger. Surprisingly, while it was made in 2003, you'd swear it was 10 years older, given the primitive nature of the animation. It's a slightly interesting artifact, but not likely one to be revisited.
Between the Stars is based on a fragment that Lovecraft wrote, here following a bland office worker who loves to lean out of his apartment window and gaze up at the stars, but who soon finds himself focusing more and more on every day minutiae ๑ the tiny cosmos of stars to be found in a co-worker's birth mark, for example, or in the print on the page of a book. It's a creepy little excursion into Lovecraft's concept man's insignificance in the vast aeons of space and time. The black and white photography and stylized sets are a little reminiscent of such Expressionist works as Lang's Testament of Dr. Mabuse. Not bad for a short Lovecraftian vignette from 1998!
Extras on the disc include excellent (but too short!) 2006 interviews with Ramsey Campbell and Robert M. Price and video spots from that year's H.P. Lovecraft Film Festival.
Lurker Films is doing a great service for horror film fans in general and Lovecraft aficionados in particular by gathering up and making available these rare short films. Hopefully, even more will be produced as the popular Lovecraft Film Festival continues to grow. It's a commonly held misconception that the works of Lovecraft are not filmable, as a good number of these short films go to show. If Guillermo Del Toro ( The Devil's Backbone, Pan's Labyrinth, Hellboy ) eventually gets to make the faithful adaptation of At the Mountains of Madness that is rumored to be on the horizon, then maybe some decent mega-budget productions will follow suit.
Coming in Part 2: Cold Air, Rough Magik, and The Call of Cthulhu !