Tales from the Crypt
Two things are certain with Tales from the Crypt: if you are a cruel soul, then your fate could be equally as brutal, and, Team Amicus deliver the appropriate gore and make-up effects paying great homage to the EC comic that inspired the film. The reward for your sins is most unkind in this Amicus omnibus.
While I will certainly talk about the Cushing tale the most, the others ones, "And All Through the House", dealing with Joanne (Joan Collins), a "desperate housewife" (I have always wanted to use this, but never had the chance...) almost getting away with the perfect murder if only not for a deranged lunatic Santa on the loose, and stopping off at her home specifically to foil all she had accomplished during Christmas Eve, "Reflection of Death" which has a cheating husband, Maitland (Ian Hendry), fleeing his family for *the other woman*, suffering a *nightmare* that has him returning from the dead after a car crash, "Wish You Were Here" featuring a businessman, Jason (Richard Greene), broke and faced with having to sell his material possessions or declare bankruptcy for a venture that didn't pay off, suffering the ill use of a Monkey's Paw style statuette that grants wishes his wife, Enid (Barbara Murray), desires in haste without thinking things through while their trusted lawyer-friend, Gregory (Roy Dotrice, the Beauty and the Beast television show) must look on helplessly, and "Blind Alley" detailing the price Major Rogers (Nigel Patrick; particularly loathsome and selfish) pays for mistreating the misbegotten inhabitants of a state funded home for the blind, all give us plenty of room to cheer the misfortune of the characters who populate this anthology about facing what "could" or "might already have" happen if you choose to misbehave unwisely.
Oh, but "Poetic Justice", I think, stands from the pack as it allows the legendary Peter Cushing a chance to rise from his grave to get revenge on Robin Phillips' Elliot, well-to-do son of a wealthy father (David Markham), who seems to be a respected member of their community because his voice carries weight with the local authorities, politicians, and rich neighbors who share the same neighborhood with widower, Grimsdyke (Cushing), a favorite of the children as he devotes a great deal of his time to taking broken toys "found in the rubbish heap", repairing them, and giving them to kids as presents for their time spent with him. Since his wife died, Grimsdyke, communicates, via Ouija Board, to her while enjoying a very minor, meager existence keeping to himself, bothering nobody, only aggravating Elliot because he's not a member of the posh, snobbish aristocracy that lives in the neighborhood. His home, while to me not that grotesque as it appears to everyone else it seems, is considered an eyesore, Grimsdyke's well-kept dogs barking at times, is quite a bemusement to Elliot, and his giving of *trash heap* gifts to the children who often visit, all contribute to the miscarriage of justice that is about to congregate and prevail against the poor fellow. But, if we don't see this kind gentleman suffer so, then we never get Zombie Cushing, and that is a treat that cannot be denied us, let me tell you. The loss of his dogs, the children that no longer visit at their parents' demands, unemployment, and incorrigibly insulting Valentine's Day cards, all orchestrated by a conniving, insidious Elliot who devotes much time to tearing apart the life of a good, decent man. Elliot's fate, all heart (he he), is good stuff indeed.
Crafty ways are created to serve the evil characters of each tale. Joan Collins' cleaning up her bloody mess is so cold and proficient, when her daughter plays a hand in her demise, I could only smile. It was fitting, considering the Christmas theme, and the presentation of the Yuletide season is well done.
The POV of Hendry's tale, how we see through his eyes as those he sees react in fright or horrified surprise, is rather a neat trick. When we see his reflection as he visualizes two years of "being away", it's clever and quite a bit amusing.
While I had an awful hard time accepting that the blind could develop such a labyrinth for their snide director to pass through (no, I'm not saying the blind could not accomplish great feats, but even those who could see would have to blueprint this extravagant set up which even has glued razor blades sticking out of the walls), I would lie if I didn't admit it was satisfying to see that scumbag suffer. The use of his beloved dog (treated better than the blind under his watch) as a means to avenge their dead colleague, is especially slick.
I will say the most unnerving to me is what happens to Greene because of his wife's good intentions. The motorcycle-riding grim reaper is rather cool, I thought. The cut out heart of a previous tale and the intestines revealed after an antique sword is used in an attempt to cull Green's suffering (the idea of forever living with every part of your being burning from embalming fluid is particularly ghoulish) prove that gore was delightfully embraced in British cinema.
...for all eternity.
I have a fondness for this anthology because it allowed Cushing to portray a different kind of character, a gentle soul, not of prominence or prestige, not a pillar of strength and courage as typical of his Van Helsing. Grimsdyke isn't of cerebral intellect like his his scholarly types or Sherlock Holmes. And his character certainly is different from his quintessence of dangerous genius that was his Frankenstein. Grimsdyke delighted in the presence of children, mourned the void missing that his deceased wife once filled, and cared about others more than himself. The way he's crushed through acts of pure evil is of significance for this viewer, and it is a part that would help define quite a career of quality performances and great characters.
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