The Old Dark House

The truth is, in my humble bleeding opinion, that to enjoy some Hammer films you have to have a soft spot for the goofy. Not like the snickering pillock who laughs at dated effects, feeling superior to people who actually went out and made something - because it’s the only thing stopping the last piece of their withered soul from falling out of their flabby arse. No, I mean having a bit of old-fashioned empathy and letting yourself be swept up in good-hearted goofiness.

Now goofy is a fine American word, and it took an American to direct one of Hammer’s goofiest movies - The Old Dark House. Now I have to confess that I have not seen the original black and white version of this movie, which is apparently a classic. Maybe if I had I might feel differently about Hammer’s version; I might even have to get myself a pipe to gesture with, in order to properly convey my disdain for all its knockabout nonsense. However, other than knowing that nobody really likes this movie very much, I knew bugger all about it going in and I ended up being rather charmed by how, well, goofy it is. It’s also rather a rather pleasingly American approach to Hammer films. It’s a movie that poses the question: what would a clean-cut lead of one of those sixties American sitcoms do if he found himself trapped overnight in a classic English haunted house? Especially one that’s populated by the sort of deeply peculiar British aristocrats that haunt the crumbling houses of England just as much as any mad scientists, or creatures of the night. No, it’s not especially scary, and yes you can spot the killer from about fifteen minutes in, but the leading man is so goshdarned likeable that watching him having to survive a single night with this family of archetypal Hammer weirdos is just jolly good fun.

There’s no reason to be ashamed of the goofy, is my point. I mean, let’s face it, there are a lot of Hammer films where there’s comic relief right? And they’re not dispensing witty bon-mots to break the tension are they? Choosing to forego Wildean zingers in favour of falling over or being tipsy is the province of many a Hammer character, usually in some kind of pub-related silliness (whether in it, or fueled by its stock). And what’s a good word for these characters and their vital role in bringing a bit of light to the darkness of Dracula or Frankenstein? Goofy, my friend; those lads are goofy.

So if an American director, renowned showman William Castle, well-experienced in turning goofiness into hard currency (Castle was the man responsible for the plastic skeleton that floated above the audience at the climax of the Vincent Price picture House on Haunted Hill), wants to come and work with Hammer to make a haunted house picture, then I say that any movie lover should give that film a chance. No, it isn’t perfect. I for one would love to see a cut of the film with a completely different score. The music is a bit too ‘gosh, isn’t this daft?’ for its own good. Because each member of this very strange family, forced by a long dead pirate’s will to never leave their dilapidated manor, is obviously having a blast in their roles. And Tom Poston is also really enjoying himself as the clean-cut American who’s falling in love and out of his depth. So you don’t need a bunch of ‘Whoops-a-daisy!’ music cues to make it funny; you’d be better off with your usual Hammer Dum! Dum! Dum! orchestra if you ask me. These are talented actors, working under a director who knows what he wants. Play it straight and let that lot find the funny. And it is a pretty funny movie by the way, in a silly sort of a way.

I don’t know, maybe it was growing up in a country full of comedies that thought people making the same wide-eyed, open-mouthed expression when their bottom is accidentally pinched while a brass band goes ‘uh-oh!’ was the height of flipping mirth, has left me with a soft spot for people having a bit of simple fun while being goofy. 

Long live goofiness then, and any good-natured American huckster willing to bring it to our damp little island. After all, what are we here for if not to appreciate the things that were made to bring us joy? 

Speaking of which, another pint?