If the '50s and '60s were successful times for the British horror film, then there was most definitely a decline in quality in the '70s. Even the Hammer production company found it tough to strike gold in the '70s, eventually calling it quits towards the end of the decade. Crucible Of Terror is a 1971 horror flick from a company called Glendale. It is a very boring film, exactly the kind of dreary drivel that spelled the end for the British horror genre at that time. Stilted dialogue, wooden performances, tedious pacing, laughable "shocks" and absurd plot developments combine to make a film that is wholly ineffective from start to finish. It gets a 2-out-of-10 rating merely because the sheer goofiness of it all is good for a few (unintended) giggles.
Struggling art dealer John Davies (James Bolam) needs to make money quickly to clear some business debts that he has run up. His boozy partner Michael (Ronald Lacey) shows him some pictures and sculptures produced by his father, which both men agree are good enough to revive their flagging fortunes. There is, however, one problem: Michael's father, Victor (Mike Raven), is a reclusive and violent madman who does not produce art for fame or profit but rather for personal gratification. Undterred, John persuades Michael to set up a meeting at his father's remote coastal house so that they can negotiate a purchase. Along for the trip are Michael's unhappy wife Jane (Beth Morris) and John's nervy girlfriend Millie (Mary Maude). The house is located near to an abandoned tin mine, closed since a fatal accident and rumoured to be haunted. The whole place seems cursed with an air of dread, and Millie especially is affected by being there - she feels constant unease and has a nagging sense of deja vu that she has been there before. A series of murders further heightens the terror, but who is the killer? The evidence would suggest demented Victor is the one responsible, perhaps planning to restart his weird old hobby of casting dead bodies in bronze. But as the mystery unfolds it becomes apparent that perhaps more supernatural forces are at work.
It would not be fair to reveal the solution here, but the answers when they come are stupid rather than clever. If I hadn't heard and seen the ludicrous denouement with my own ears and eyes, I would scarcely believe a film-maker could put such nonsense on film. The film's weaknesses don't end there either. Indeed, Crucible Of Terror could be described as a catalogue of weaknesses, such is its ineptitude on just about every level. All the actors are guilty of terrible performances, ranging from Bolam's lazy non-performance as John to Raven's wide-eyed self embarrassment as the crazy Victor. The plot takes forever to get going and is completely unpersuasive, with several moments that have the viewer shaking their head in disbelief. Perhaps the most illogical moments of all revolve around the murders - in one preposterous sequence, the unseen killer stabs a victim noisily through a changing screen, drags the heavily bleeding corpse to a window, throws it out, and drags it to a nearby car leaving a trail of blood every inch of the way. Incredibly, absurdly, in a house full of people no-one hears any of this taking place and all the blood has vanished by the morning! The worst shortcoming of all, though, is something that is unforgivable in any horror film: an absolute absence of scares. There is nothing remotely frightening or jumpy about Crucible Of Terror, not one moment that genuinely gets the spine tingling or the hairs rising. A shocker without shocks rather negates itself, and Crucible Of Terror is as pointless and ineffective as they come.
Struggling art dealer John Davies (James Bolam) needs to make money quickly to clear some business debts that he has run up. His boozy partner Michael (Ronald Lacey) shows him some pictures and sculptures produced by his father, which both men agree are good enough to revive their flagging fortunes. There is, however, one problem: Michael's father, Victor (Mike Raven), is a reclusive and violent madman who does not produce art for fame or profit but rather for personal gratification. Undterred, John persuades Michael to set up a meeting at his father's remote coastal house so that they can negotiate a purchase. Along for the trip are Michael's unhappy wife Jane (Beth Morris) and John's nervy girlfriend Millie (Mary Maude). The house is located near to an abandoned tin mine, closed since a fatal accident and rumoured to be haunted. The whole place seems cursed with an air of dread, and Millie especially is affected by being there - she feels constant unease and has a nagging sense of deja vu that she has been there before. A series of murders further heightens the terror, but who is the killer? The evidence would suggest demented Victor is the one responsible, perhaps planning to restart his weird old hobby of casting dead bodies in bronze. But as the mystery unfolds it becomes apparent that perhaps more supernatural forces are at work.
It would not be fair to reveal the solution here, but the answers when they come are stupid rather than clever. If I hadn't heard and seen the ludicrous denouement with my own ears and eyes, I would scarcely believe a film-maker could put such nonsense on film. The film's weaknesses don't end there either. Indeed, Crucible Of Terror could be described as a catalogue of weaknesses, such is its ineptitude on just about every level. All the actors are guilty of terrible performances, ranging from Bolam's lazy non-performance as John to Raven's wide-eyed self embarrassment as the crazy Victor. The plot takes forever to get going and is completely unpersuasive, with several moments that have the viewer shaking their head in disbelief. Perhaps the most illogical moments of all revolve around the murders - in one preposterous sequence, the unseen killer stabs a victim noisily through a changing screen, drags the heavily bleeding corpse to a window, throws it out, and drags it to a nearby car leaving a trail of blood every inch of the way. Incredibly, absurdly, in a house full of people no-one hears any of this taking place and all the blood has vanished by the morning! The worst shortcoming of all, though, is something that is unforgivable in any horror film: an absolute absence of scares. There is nothing remotely frightening or jumpy about Crucible Of Terror, not one moment that genuinely gets the spine tingling or the hairs rising. A shocker without shocks rather negates itself, and Crucible Of Terror is as pointless and ineffective as they come.