#marc cramer

BBC2 Horror Double Bill (1981)

Isle Of The Dead (1945)

ISLE OF THE DEAD tells you what it's up to right away when it makes the following, rather accusative statement:

"Under conquest and oppression the people of Greece allowed their legends to degenerate into superstition; the Goddess Aphrodite giving way to the Vorvolaka."

I don't know if I'm ready to dissect the idea that this Greek vampire concept is a specific corruption of the goddess of love and fertility…but it's certainly an option! In the meantime, if you must allow your legends to degenerate, at least let it be under conquest and oppression. In spite of this transparent setup for a thriller whose central villain is delusional belief, the film is still surprising and disturbing in execution. It is the fourth collaboration of producer Val Lewton with director Mark Robson (following horror outings THE SEVENTH VICTIM and GHOST SHIP), and scribe Ardel Wray (on the heels of I WALKED WITH A ZOMBIE and THE LEOPARD MAN), and it is as beguiling and sophisticated as that may suggest.

The 1945 production takes place during the Balkan Wars of 1912, planting the viewer in the middle of a veritable potters field of dead and dying soldiers (causing me to wonder how many graphically cynical movies about war were produced in the US at this time). In this setting, plucky American journalist Oliver Davis (Marc Cramer) encounters the singularly dogmatic General Pherides (Boris Karloff)—also known as the Watchdog—in the midst of executing a commanding officer for allowing his troops to lag during a deployment. After Oliver witlessly insults the memory of the General's wife, he promises to accompany him to the island where the the woman is buried. Jarringly, they find that all the tombs there have been looted, and now they are trapped with a group of people beset by septicemic plague. There, as the opening text suggests, the native Greeks are overcome by their inveterate cultural fear of vampires, as the international characters wait and pray for the arid sirroco winds to arrive and burn off the pestilence.

The Watchdog is proud of having survived a rural, superstitious upbringing to become a man of strict reason. Unfortunately, this is soon undone by the poisonous whispers of Madame Kyra (Helene Thimig), the housekeeper of his host, Swiss archeologist Dr. Aubrecht (Jason Robards, Sr.). The two focus their phobia on lovely young Thea (Ellen Drew), who isn't sickly enough for their liking as the other guests rapidly waste away. Madame Kyra appeals to the Watchdog's Greek heritage, convincing him that whatever fears prick up in him are the result of his latent ability to perceive things that the foreigners cannot. Thus emboldened, the General destroys any means of escape and subjects Thea to a campaign of terror and surveillance, driving the whole episode to an inevitably violent, hysterical conclusion.

Though we don't doubt that the supernatural element of the story lies only in the minds of Kyra and the Watchdog, ISLE OF THE DEAD still weaves a hallucinatory spell that deranges one's rational feeling. The island itself is designed after symbolist painter Arnold Böcklin's popular painting of the same name, which is generally regarded to depict the psychopomp Charon transporting souls to their final destination. Layers of spiritual belief—folk, hermetic, christian—overlap as the doomed characters cry out for aid when science fails to save them. A feverish hand-washing montage is one of the most striking images in the film, and the logical explanation for various disturbing events provides little comfort: for instance, Dr. Aubrecht's confession that the grave robberies were ultimately his fault, as he made it so profitable for the locals to provide him with artifacts to study. It seems that destructive spiritual belief has snuck in where civilized society has collapsed, reinforcing order in its own perverse way.

Order itself is always in question in ISLE OF THE DEAD, as various ideologies compete with and destroy each other, rather than falling into a hierarchy. The Watchdog receives a cold welcome from those on the island who remember his ruthless tax collection techniques. "Who is against the law of Greece is not a Greek!" he defends himself, and Thea retorts, "Laws can be wrong, laws can be cruel. And the people who live only by the law are both wrong and cruel." Her statement applies both to his military career, and to the resurgence of his faith in the folklore with which he was raised. In the bigger picture, these people are failed even by the laws of hygiene, as one after another of them succumbs to the plague, and standard medical procedures fail to determine who is properly dead, and who is still alive.

In this sense ISLE OF THE DEAD is a truly apocalyptic film, in which one is failed just as badly by spirituality as by established scientific principle. Even the line between life and death is unreasonably hard to determine, which surely reflects the psychological state of affairs for people just barely emerging from World War II. I'm sure finer minds than mine have commented on this extensively, so I'll leave it there, but regardless of your historical acumen, the film remains a singularly haunting work of 20th century art.

For the day before Halloween, we humbly present our episode on ISLE OF THE DEAD (1945, Robson), inspired by Arnold Böcklin's painting of the same name! Karloff and Lewton strike gold again, this time in a unique vampire tale set in Greece.

It's a one-of-a-kind picture written by Ardel Wray and featuring Ellen Drew, Marc Cramer, Katherine Emery, Helene Thimig, Alan Napier, Jason Robards Sr, Ernst Deutsch, and Skelton Knaggs.

Isle of the Dead will be released on Blu-ray on August 20 via Scream Factory. The 1945 horror film is produced by Val Lewton (Cat People, I Walked with a Zombie). Extras will be announced at a later date.

Mark Robson (Valley of the Dolls, Peyton Place) directs from as script by Ardel Wray (I Walked with a Zombie), inspired by the Arnold Böcklin painting of the same name. Boris Karloff, Ellen Drew, and Marc Cramer star.

Isle of the Dead (1945)

“Isle of the Dead, directed by Mark Robson and penned by the pioneering screenwriter Ardel Wray, is one of the Lewton era’s lesser efforts. It’s an artful, sometimes-spooky effort undercut by ill-fittingly ornate dialogue and stilted performances.”