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With a fiery blood & thunder script by Jimmy Sangster, inspired color photography and engaging performances, TERROR OF THE TONGS (1960) should be a whole lot better. Still, the color (with an emphasis on fuchsia and vermillion) is so spectacular and Christopher Lee is such fun to watch (though his “oriental” eye make-up resembles the jowls of a basset hound) that I’ve seen it twice already. The film is set in Hong Kong in 1910, and concerns the red dragon tong, whose members go about hatcheting uncooperative citizens, enhancing the movie’s red color scheme. Into this flurry of chopped appendages appears Capt. Jackson (Geoffrey Toone), who for reasons much too complicated to go into here, is seeking revenge on the red dragon tong for the murder of his daughter. Eventually, after a great deal of stomping on hatchets, Capt. Jackson is face to face with the tong’s evil leader, Chung King (Christopher Lee), who orders the good Capt. to go through a bout of “bone-scraping.”

TERROR OF THE TONGS, unfortunately, due to the censorship outcry caused by STRANGLERS, was denuded of most scenes dealing with violence. According to Jimmy Sangster, the “bone-scraping” scene was added during post-production as the film ended up being so tame the producers were fearful it wouldn’t be awarded an “X” certificate. The “bone-scraping”, in fact, is the liveliest part of the movie, an almost proto-psychedelic roller coaster ride, with a flurry of low-angle close-ups bathed in clashing shades of red, purple and green. Yet, for a great deal of its running time, the film suffers from a cinematic version of arteriosclerosis; the pacing is funereal, the compositions stiff, and, except for the loving attention expended on Christopher Lee’s unfortunate eye makeup, the camera never seems to get very close, preferring to warily view the proceedings from the other side of the room.

I’m afraid most of the blame must be placed squarely on the shoulders of the director, Anthony Bushell, who was an associate of Laurence Olivier. In fact, the film is directed in a style that comes across almost as a parody of BBC “quality televison”, usually reserved for embalming classics, like Shakespeare and Chekhov.

Another problem, which others may find endearing, is the inordinate number of tong members who speak in cockney slang, as if this film were a long lost episode of the 60’s British “carry-on” comedy series CARRY ON TONG. I would also like to make mention of Yvvone Mouldar in the role of Lee, a “half-caste” Chinese girl who falls in love with Capt. Jackson, and has a predilection for purple and chartreuse dresses with strategically placed slits. “There’s no place I belong”, she wails, in a thick French accent evocative of Edith Piaf records. Recommended.

THE PIRATES OF BLOOD RIVER (1961) may be the only pirate movie in history without an actual pirate ship. (There is a matte painting and some stock shots of privateers under the credits.) There’s plenty of reasons for seeing this, including terrific performances by Kerwin Matthews (whose natural ability to imbue his scenes with believability is infectious) and Christopher Lee, lovely Technicolor photography by Arthur Grant, and exhilarating action choreography by Bob Simmons (who worked on the Bond Films and was a stand-in for Sean Connery shooting through a gun barrel during the opening credits of DR NO.)

The plot, though, has a patched-together feeling, concerning a group of “Hugenots” in the 17th Century who have taken refuge on an isolated tropical island. They’re torn apart by greed (there’s a gold mine nearby) and religious intolerance. There’s also piranha infested waters, which makes for a lively scene of a curvy cutie (Ms. Devereaux again) being ingested by the voracious, persnickety fish. (Unfortunately, the piranha only appear at the beginning and end, as if the producers decided they needed some spicy shock material for the trailer.)

Jonathan Standing (Mr. Matthews) is caught dallying with a minister’s wife, and is sent by his sanctimonious bigot of a father (Anderw Keir) to a penal colony. After a number of dull, poorly directed chain gang sequences, Jonathan is freed by pirates led by LaRoche (Mr. Lee, with a very convincing French accent). Confusing the pirates with moveon.org democratic types, Jonathan inadvertently reveals there’s a fortune in gold hidden on his home island. Naturally, LaRoche takes Jonathan back to the island as a hostage, spending an inordinate amount of time terrorizing everyone. Things pick up immeasurably towards the end, leading to a number of tense, exciting action climaxes (Mr. Matthews is in his natural element here).

At times, the movie becomes quite individualistic and stylish, only to sink beneath the weight of a script with ill-defined characters and motives. There’s an interesting use of the wide-angle possibilities of the scope frame during violent action in hostile natural settings, which puts one in mind of the early films of Sergio Leone. John Gilling, the director and co-writer, seems to be trying to say something about greed and anarchic personalities on the edge of civilization, but this comes across only fitfully.

John Gilling got his start working with Tod Slaughter (a British film actor of the 30’s best known for the original version of SWEENY TODD) and is responsible for one of my favorite Hammer films, PLAGUE OF THE ZOMBIES (1966). In addition, he also wrote and directed what I consider the worst abomination Hammer ever unleashed on an unsuspecting audience, THE BRIGAND OF KANDAHAR (1965). Needless to say, Mr. Gilling’s oeuvre is a bit erratic. THE PIRATES OF BLOOD RIVER is far from awful, however, especially in the version presented here, which is stunning in its visual clarity and sensuous color (if only all of Sony’s discs of Columbia films from the early 60’s looked like this!) and goes a long way towards making Mr. Gilling’s occasional directorial lapses palatable. Recommended.

For their next pirate opus, the powers that be at Hammer decided to build a historically accurate ship, a Spanish galleon, at a cost of 78,000 pounds, nearly the entire budget of their previously most expensive film, HORROR OF DRACULA. When the crew brought the ship to its location on a lake north of London, the ship got caught in the current and went aground. Since their 78,000 pound investment was stuck in the mud, the script had to be completely rewritten. What finally came of this trauma is THE DEVIL SHIP PIRATES (1963), one of the hidden glories of Hammer filmmaking.

After the defeat of the Spanish Armada in July 1855, the Diablo, a licensed privateer that joined in the battle against England, runs aground in an inlet off the English coast. Its hull badly damaged and in desperate need of provisions, the Diablo’s crew of pirates, under the direction of their captain (Christopher Lee) attempt to take over an isolated village by telling the residents the Spanish have won the war. The villagers, mostly laborers and peasants, are fairly skeptical, but the town’s largest landowner, Sir Basil (Ernest Clark), insists he’ll dispossess everyone unless they collaborate. Sir Basil, along with the local vicar, even goes so far as to help the pirates hang a blacksmith (Andrew Keir) who tries to organize armed resistance.

According to Jimmy Sangster, the plot is based on THE DESPERATE HOURS (1955), a Humphrey Bogart film in which a group of escaped convicts hold a suburban family hostage, though this reminds me more of WENT THE DAY WELL? (1942), an Ealing fantasy-drama where Nazi soldiers try to occupy a small English village with the help of local aristocratic collaborators. Although set in the Elizabethan era, there’s a definite World War II flavor to THE DEVIL SHIP PIRATES’ tale of subjugation and ultimate triumph, as well as a valentine to the resiliency of rural England, putting one in mind of Michael Powell & Emeric Pressburger’s charming and similarly themed A CANTERBURY TALE (1944).

All this is simply a slightly complicated way of saying THE DEVIL SHIP PIRATES is resonant, exciting and beautifully crafted in the tradition of the best British films, with full-blown character performances and lyrical passages of great beauty. Although many of the locations and even some camera set-ups are the same as in PIRATES OF BLOOD RIVER, it’s amazing what a difference a director makes. It’s unfortunate Don Sharp, known for KISS OF THE VAMPIRE (1963) and directing the most memorable episodes of THE AVENGERS televison series, was never again given the opportunity to do something of similar scope and complexity.

Although the entire cast is terrific, with seasoned character actors such as Michael Ripper and the aforementioned Andrew Keir, Christopher Lee is a real revelation here, underplaying his tough pirate captain with a core of believability and also unpredictability, polite and reasonable one minute, then lashing out in a fury that’s always grounded in specific circumstance and personality. The photography, by Michael Reed, has the quality of luminescence and verisimilitude he brought to later, bigger budgeted projects such as ON HER MAJESTY’S SECRET SERVICE. The light and color texture changes from scene to scene, limning the changing character interactions, as well as bringing a heart-stopping gorgeousness in the midst of blazing action.

Of all the films in this set, THE DEVIL SHIP PIRATES is the most appropriate as a date movie. My girlfriend and I watched it on the Fourth of July, and found its theme of liberty, as well as the fireworks display at the end, quite stimulating. (The romantic passages between John Cairney & Suzan Farmer didn’t hurt either.) Highly Recommended.

In addition to the copious extras already mentioned, the original theatrical trailers are included, beautifully restored and as entertaining as the films themselves.

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