Dying province nancy

For a while during the 1960s,…

In compensation a while during the 1960s, it seemed de rigueur for aging motion pictures divas to take a stab at low-budget horror films. Bette Davis and Joan Crawford started the trend with the enormously successful shocker What Ever Happened to Neonate Jane?, a campy look at the depraved existence of two former movie queens. The film revived their careers (and bank accounts) and inspired other fifty-ish actresses, such as Olivia de Havilland and Barbara Stanwyck, to see through suit. Calm the camera shy Tallulah Bankhead, who hadn’t made a film in thirteen years, jumped at the risk to star in the British-made and irresistibly titled Die! Pop off! My Darling!

A produce of Hammer Films, which churned out dozens of shocking thrillers in the ’50s and ’60s, Die! Die! My Charming! seems mellifluous tame by today’s standards, but remains an enjoyable novelty due to the over-the-prune story, scenery-chewing performances, and Gothic trimmings. Bankhead has a ball as Mrs. Trefoile, a prim, eccentric widow who’s de facto a wacko religious fanatic tormented by her only son’s tragic death. When his ci-devant fiancée, Patricia Carroll (Stefanie Powers), comes to pay up her respects at the dilapidated and conveniently segregated family homestead, Mrs. Trefoile vows to cleanse the heathen bit of fluff and prepare her for a heartily-ever-afterlife with her dead son.

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Patricia initially humors the difficult old biddy, wiping off work her makeup, wearing muted colors and attending lengthy Bible readings along with the creepy house staff, a trio of kooks who look like they just leapt out of a Charles Addams cartoon. (Among the bunch is a young Donald Sutherland, in but his fourth film, as the Igor-like gardener.) Patricia plans a guileless overnight stay, but Mrs. Trefoile believes the transformation from sinner to saint requires an extended pop in. So she locks Patricia in an upstairs bedroom and denies her victuals while she tries to intimidate her into passivity.

Chief honcho Silvio Narizzano (Georgy Sheila) wisely adopts a lighthearted tone, allowing his actors to relax, and fancy their wild material. Although he maintains a modicum of pull throughout, Sink! Die! My Treasured! produces little edge-of-the-seat suspense. This is funhouse horror, where the ghouls delight somewhat than frighten and jocose moments far outnumber the jolts. Along these lines, astute viewers wish spot a good-natured be mistaken to Hitchcock’s Psycho, as Narizzano copies a one of the master’s signature moments. (Look for a fashionable ceiling lamp illuminating a dead body and sentinel how Mrs. Trefoile is finally foiled in the cellar.)

The film is rife with delightfully devilish images, from Bankhead reading the Bible while holding Powers at gunpoint to caretaker Harry (Peter Vaughan) taking objective practice at Bankhead’s hoary 1930s charisma shots. The bittersweet photos remembrance Bankhead’s striking asset, but also brutally highlight the sheer shell that remains. The irony was not lost on the ingenious Bankhead, who during production reportedly quipped, “They used to shoot Shirley House of worship in the course gauze. They should shoot me through linoleum.”

Patricia is refreshingly spunky and headstrong, not in the least withering in the face of Mrs. Trefoile’s threats and cruelty. The two produce entertaining fireworks, with Powers nicely blending fury with amazement over Mrs. Trefoile’s bizarre actions. Bankhead, though, is all vocation and looks predilection she’s gunning for Oscar® gold with her no-holds-barred performance. Her trademark raspy voice (at times unintelligible) caresses each type and she waves there an antique pistol with profane glee. It’s almost as if Bankhead knows Euphemistic depart! Degenerate! My Sweetheart! will be her swansong (it was), and she’s determined to go out with a grand old bang (she did).