And Now The Screaming Starts (1973)
I'm not one for period dramas, but Amicus and Roy Ward Baker combined to make one that every fan of British horror should see - And Now The Screaming Starts.
With more than a hint of Daphne du Maurier’s Rebecca, this tale of revenge, screaming, wandering hands and haunting is like Hammer extreme - the plot, the blood, the screaming, the colour and the performances all go over and above the call of duty. It certainly wasn't an Oscar contender, but it is 91 minutes of good, old-fashioned comic book horror.
Top of the screaming league is Stephanie Beacham as Catherine Fengriffen, newly married to Charles Fengriffen (Ian Ogilvy) and off to Fengriffen Manor for an idyllic life. Except this is a horror movie and strange things are happening - faces jumping out of pictures, wandering severed hands and mysterious deaths as soon as anyone mentions what could be bringing it all on.
It's all a bit much for Catherine, who has a funny turn and takes to her bed. The doctor (Patrick Magee) calls in an expert to sort it out (Dr Pope, played by Peter Cushing), who discovers that the family is cursed. You see, grandfather Henry Fengriffen (Herbert Lom) was a debauched individual whose rape of a woodsman's wife and severing of the same woodman's hand led to the haunting of subsequent generations. What does mean for Catherine and Charles? Who is the stranger in the woods? And can Dr Pope put an end to it?
All will be revealed in a manic finale that ties up all the loose ends and makes some sense of the bizarre goings-on. The screaming gets a bit much after a while and you can second-guess the ending, but that aside, this is a 70s gem you really should see. If only to remind yourself that filmmaking wasn't always such a seriosu business.
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