Sometimes, the biggest claim-to-fame any motion picture might be able to make rests on the shoulders of one of its contributors.
The film industry as a whole is absolutely rife with stories of A-List pictures made stronger with the inclusion of a particular director, writer, or actor. Even defying greater odds, how many B-List films actually owe the biggest part of their reputation to having a particular talent in some lead role. I suppose that the various permutations are endless – I can certainly cite a great number of productions I wouldn’t have seen except for the fact that a familiar favorite was listed amongst the credits – and there will likely always be those insider efforts that results in all of the screen’s good, bad, and ugly additions getting a little extra attention by having Person X participating in the process, however big or small that involvement might be.
That said, I knew the name of productive writer Edgar Wallace chiefly because he’s the author and screenwriter credited with the creation of one of the screen’s biggest gems if not the ‘eighth wonder of the world.’ In 1932, he penned the script that would become 1933’s box office sensation King Kong – a remarkable cinematic fable that continues to inspire storytellers to this day – indelibly taking a place in film history that few have matched. (Yes, I realize he co-created the big beast, but my opinion stands nonetheless.) But what I didn’t know was just how expansive his impact on the movie business truly was: a quick search of Google.com this morning confirms that – to date – his various works are responsible for a foundation of over 160 different screen projects.
Woof. Somewhere … somehow … that has to be a record, am I right?
As can happen with any writer’s output, I suspect that the quality understandably varies, as a rundown of his IMDB.com doesn’t necessarily spark a lot of memories on my screenings. Still, there has to be a good reason why a novel published in 1925 under the title “The Blue Hand” might endure with some interested parties for them to pick it up over four decades later and adapt it into a little something-something called Creature With The Blue Hand (1967). Directed by Alfred Vohrer from an adaptation fashioned by Herbert Reinecker, Fred Denger, Harald G. Petersen, and Uschi Haarbrücker, the Horror/Mystery starred Harald Leipnitz, Klaus Kinski, Carl Lange, Ilse Steppat, and Diana Körner in big roles.
While the end result is a bit dubious, I’d argue that the picture still has enough Mystery (far more than Horror which is a bit too conventional) to intrigue some in the viewing audience. My reservations with it tie almost exclusively to its poor pacing, though the fact that it kept breaking into highly unpredictable circumstances did produce a few unintended laughs.
The film industry as a whole is absolutely rife with stories of A-List pictures made stronger with the inclusion of a particular director, writer, or actor. Even defying greater odds, how many B-List films actually owe the biggest part of their reputation to having a particular talent in some lead role. I suppose that the various permutations are endless – I can certainly cite a great number of productions I wouldn’t have seen except for the fact that a familiar favorite was listed amongst the credits – and there will likely always be those insider efforts that results in all of the screen’s good, bad, and ugly additions getting a little extra attention by having Person X participating in the process, however big or small that involvement might be.
That said, I knew the name of productive writer Edgar Wallace chiefly because he’s the author and screenwriter credited with the creation of one of the screen’s biggest gems if not the ‘eighth wonder of the world.’ In 1932, he penned the script that would become 1933’s box office sensation King Kong – a remarkable cinematic fable that continues to inspire storytellers to this day – indelibly taking a place in film history that few have matched. (Yes, I realize he co-created the big beast, but my opinion stands nonetheless.) But what I didn’t know was just how expansive his impact on the movie business truly was: a quick search of Google.com this morning confirms that – to date – his various works are responsible for a foundation of over 160 different screen projects.
Woof. Somewhere … somehow … that has to be a record, am I right?
As can happen with any writer’s output, I suspect that the quality understandably varies, as a rundown of his IMDB.com doesn’t necessarily spark a lot of memories on my screenings. Still, there has to be a good reason why a novel published in 1925 under the title “The Blue Hand” might endure with some interested parties for them to pick it up over four decades later and adapt it into a little something-something called Creature With The Blue Hand (1967). Directed by Alfred Vohrer from an adaptation fashioned by Herbert Reinecker, Fred Denger, Harald G. Petersen, and Uschi Haarbrücker, the Horror/Mystery starred Harald Leipnitz, Klaus Kinski, Carl Lange, Ilse Steppat, and Diana Körner in big roles.
While the end result is a bit dubious, I’d argue that the picture still has enough Mystery (far more than Horror which is a bit too conventional) to intrigue some in the viewing audience. My reservations with it tie almost exclusively to its poor pacing, though the fact that it kept breaking into highly unpredictable circumstances did produce a few unintended laughs.
(NOTE: The following review will contain minor spoilers necessary solely for the discussion of plot and/or characters. If you’re the type of reader who prefers a review entirely spoiler-free, then I’d encourage you to skip down to the last few paragraphs for the final assessment. If, however, you’re accepting of a few modest hints at ‘things to come,’ then read on …)
From the film’s IMDB.com page citation:
“Scotland Yard is after a homicidal maniac called The Blue Hand, which is what he uses to kill his victims.”
Here’s the thing: if you’re going to be a serial killer – or a murderer of some ill repute – it pays to have a gimmick.
To be blunt, psychopaths are revered for having a certain signature to delivering their dark deeds, one that gives them the reputation that they so fervently seek; and that’s probably one of the things that makes Creature With The Blue Hand relatable for audiences of any age. Its killer – don’t worry, I won’t spoil it, not that it’d really make that much difference in this mildly convoluted affair – employs a Medieval weapon to inflict his death blows: a mighty gauntlet colored blue and made of steel, the fingers are removed so that four sharp blades slide into place for piercing flesh to the user’s delight. Theatrically, it looks very Freddy Krueger but functions far more like Marvel’s Wolverine: in every case, however, it definitely packs the lethal wallop.
Of course, the other potential draw for Blue Hand would likely be its marquee name: Klaus Kinski (1926-1991) is, perhaps, remembered as much for his bizarre onscreen performances as he is his macabre offscreen lifestyle. Often cited as being one of the cinema’s most intense players, it’s also been said that he had some rather famous behind-the-scenes tantrums, bringing more than a bit of trouble to a good handful of productions. While he’s a bit subdued in this murder mystery, audiences might still reap the benefits of the fact that Kinski appears in not one but two roles here: he plays twin brothers Dave and Richard Emerson, both possibly heirs to the Emerson fortune and both inextricably linked to what we’re originally told are Dave’s trail of misdeeds. (Did he do it? Or did Richard do it, claiming to be Dave? You get the idea.) Sadly, neither performance really amounts to all that much in here; and yet I suppose that Kinski purists still couldn’t get enough of it.
From the film’s IMDB.com page citation:
“Scotland Yard is after a homicidal maniac called The Blue Hand, which is what he uses to kill his victims.”
Here’s the thing: if you’re going to be a serial killer – or a murderer of some ill repute – it pays to have a gimmick.
To be blunt, psychopaths are revered for having a certain signature to delivering their dark deeds, one that gives them the reputation that they so fervently seek; and that’s probably one of the things that makes Creature With The Blue Hand relatable for audiences of any age. Its killer – don’t worry, I won’t spoil it, not that it’d really make that much difference in this mildly convoluted affair – employs a Medieval weapon to inflict his death blows: a mighty gauntlet colored blue and made of steel, the fingers are removed so that four sharp blades slide into place for piercing flesh to the user’s delight. Theatrically, it looks very Freddy Krueger but functions far more like Marvel’s Wolverine: in every case, however, it definitely packs the lethal wallop.
Of course, the other potential draw for Blue Hand would likely be its marquee name: Klaus Kinski (1926-1991) is, perhaps, remembered as much for his bizarre onscreen performances as he is his macabre offscreen lifestyle. Often cited as being one of the cinema’s most intense players, it’s also been said that he had some rather famous behind-the-scenes tantrums, bringing more than a bit of trouble to a good handful of productions. While he’s a bit subdued in this murder mystery, audiences might still reap the benefits of the fact that Kinski appears in not one but two roles here: he plays twin brothers Dave and Richard Emerson, both possibly heirs to the Emerson fortune and both inextricably linked to what we’re originally told are Dave’s trail of misdeeds. (Did he do it? Or did Richard do it, claiming to be Dave? You get the idea.) Sadly, neither performance really amounts to all that much in here; and yet I suppose that Kinski purists still couldn’t get enough of it.
Furthermore, viewers get to explore the clandestine richness of the Emerson estate. (Way to go, production design team!) Without going into too many of the particulars, let’s just say that what appears to be a rather dull and conventional British estate is positively loaded with secret passages, hidden doors, and the kinds of other wild inventions that make some of us salivate over the production details. Not all of it necessarily works into the somewhat cumbersome whodunit plot, mind you, bu but that’s easy to forgive when you’re awash with glee at discovering the next hidden panel or the next disguised mechanism. What I wouldn’t give to have immediately started production on a ghost story after this one ended as the house had everything going for it … well, except a dearly departed spirit coming back from the beyond, that is. (A good script could’ve fixed that in a jiffy.)
Regrettably, Blue Hand mostly plods along, never quite galvanizing around anything other than who might be wielding that deadly metal mitt. As a mystery, it really isn’t all that elaborate, though the script weaves through a fair number of twists and turns. Alas, you probably won’t see them coming, and that’s mostly because it isn’t that kind of puzzle: the finer points are all obscured until their reveal, so I dare say some of it will make little sense or feel entirely incredulous in movie time. The portrayal of the mentally impaired will also ruffle feathers of today’s hyper-sensitive viewership – asylums were a bit brutal in how they handled these unfortunate souls, and (ahem) damn near anything could get one committed back in the day it would seem.
In the end, I find it difficult to ascribe any great reason to spend time with the picture. It isn’t poorly made – as I said above, the production details are quite nice in spots – but it just does so little with the material, perhaps hoping that Kinski’s participation and a few fancy gimmicks were enough to propel any achievable momentum. What starts out as interesting and with some dramatic flourish rather quickly turns mundane: a few sequences – things like what psychiatric facility keeps on hand a huge supply of rats intended for therapeutic use or who thinks keeping a snake locked in a personal vault is a good idea – will leave you scratching your head in dismay … or, worse, delight.
Regrettably, Blue Hand mostly plods along, never quite galvanizing around anything other than who might be wielding that deadly metal mitt. As a mystery, it really isn’t all that elaborate, though the script weaves through a fair number of twists and turns. Alas, you probably won’t see them coming, and that’s mostly because it isn’t that kind of puzzle: the finer points are all obscured until their reveal, so I dare say some of it will make little sense or feel entirely incredulous in movie time. The portrayal of the mentally impaired will also ruffle feathers of today’s hyper-sensitive viewership – asylums were a bit brutal in how they handled these unfortunate souls, and (ahem) damn near anything could get one committed back in the day it would seem.
In the end, I find it difficult to ascribe any great reason to spend time with the picture. It isn’t poorly made – as I said above, the production details are quite nice in spots – but it just does so little with the material, perhaps hoping that Kinski’s participation and a few fancy gimmicks were enough to propel any achievable momentum. What starts out as interesting and with some dramatic flourish rather quickly turns mundane: a few sequences – things like what psychiatric facility keeps on hand a huge supply of rats intended for therapeutic use or who thinks keeping a snake locked in a personal vault is a good idea – will leave you scratching your head in dismay … or, worse, delight.
Creature With The Blue Hand (1967) was produced by Rialto Film and Independent-International Pictures. DVD distribution (for this particular release) has been coordinated by the fine folks at Film Masters. As for the technical specifications? While I’m no trained video expert, I found the provided sights-and-sounds to be very solid from start-to-finish. Lastly, if you’re looking for special features? Wowza. There’s quite a collection here, one that definitely can take some time; as such, I’m doing the dutiful copy-and-paste from the studio’s press release previously published on Blu-ray.com:
For clarity’s sake, let me explain something a bit further: my review is of Creature’s original 1967 theatrical release. There is an alternate version on here – 1987’s The Bloody Hand – which was a somewhat re-styled incarnation along with newly-inserted gore footage directed by Samuel M. Sherman. If I review that production, then I’ll cover it in a separate review installment on the website.
Alas … only Mildly Recommended.
Though I had a bit of fun with Creature With The Blue Hand (1967), that merriment was really only experienced in small doses. What I enjoyed were the production details – those mentioned above – and the unpredictability of its labyrinth plot. While I wouldn’t say the flick had any singular performances in it (Kinski is very sedate compared to what I’ve seen him do elsewhere) worthy of note, I’d also point out everyone pretty much hit their marks and did affable with what the murky script asked from them. Beyond the cleverness of a few scenes and the spectacularly cool Emerson mansion, I just found little in here to celebrate … and that’s disappointing.
In the interest of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Film Masters provided me with a complimentary Blu-ray of Creature With The Blue Hand (1967) by request for the expressed purpose of completing this review. Their contribution to me in no way, shape, or form influenced my opinion of it.
-- EZ
- DOUBLE FEATURE RELEASE
- NEW 4K RESTORATION OF THE CREATURE WITH THE BLUE HAND
- NEW 4K RESTORATION OF WEB OF THE SPIDER
- Creature with the Blue Hand full length commentary track
- Web of the Spider full length commentary track
- Included HD film, 'The Bloody Dead (1987),' from Independent International Pictures which added scenes for the home video release
- Essays by Christopher Stewardson and Nick Clarke
- All new documentary on Edgar Wallace
- Archival commentary by Samuel M. Sherman
- Original theatrical trailer from 35mm for Creature with the Blue Hand
- Reimagined trailer for Web of the Spider using restored elements
For clarity’s sake, let me explain something a bit further: my review is of Creature’s original 1967 theatrical release. There is an alternate version on here – 1987’s The Bloody Hand – which was a somewhat re-styled incarnation along with newly-inserted gore footage directed by Samuel M. Sherman. If I review that production, then I’ll cover it in a separate review installment on the website.
Alas … only Mildly Recommended.
Though I had a bit of fun with Creature With The Blue Hand (1967), that merriment was really only experienced in small doses. What I enjoyed were the production details – those mentioned above – and the unpredictability of its labyrinth plot. While I wouldn’t say the flick had any singular performances in it (Kinski is very sedate compared to what I’ve seen him do elsewhere) worthy of note, I’d also point out everyone pretty much hit their marks and did affable with what the murky script asked from them. Beyond the cleverness of a few scenes and the spectacularly cool Emerson mansion, I just found little in here to celebrate … and that’s disappointing.
In the interest of fairness, I’m pleased to disclose that the fine folks at Film Masters provided me with a complimentary Blu-ray of Creature With The Blue Hand (1967) by request for the expressed purpose of completing this review. Their contribution to me in no way, shape, or form influenced my opinion of it.
-- EZ
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