I'm a sucker for DVD box-sets…I freely admit it. The companies who pump them out, with all their shiny and alluring packaging, are definitely targeting gullible rubes like yours truly…

Having said that, I've been reasonably disciplined of late and have tried to resist any excessively rash purchases. In fact it's not so much the box-sets I've bought, as the ones I've nearly bought, that worry me. While my shelves creak happily and contentedly supporting the likes of The Buster Keaton Collection and The Marx Brothers Collection, I'm also forced to remember near brushes with the Nightmare on Elm St, Hellraiser, and James Bond (all 20 films!) box-sets. Though usually immune to the lure of the 'endless franchise', it can (at times) be hard to resist a mindless splurge when those sets look all purty and dressed up in their Sunday best.

Anyway, the reason all of this is on my mind is because I've just ordered the newly-released, and far too tempting, Val Lewton Collection, which is the kind of thing that gives DVD a good name: 9 films, and a liberal bucket-load of extras, for under 50 Euros. Woo hoo!

Lewton (for those unfamiliar with this genre legend) was a Russian-born producer and writer whose name became synonymous with a certain brand of low-cost, high-tone, subtle (and subversive) horror in the 1940s. Morbid, perverse, and (in a way) morally radical, Lewton's films remain delightful oddities, and admirably intelligent considering their decidedly 'B-movie', commercial origins:

…as head of the B-horror unit [Lewton had] to follow three rules: Each film had to come in under a $150,000 budget; Each film was to run under 75 minutes; and Lewton's supervisors would supply the title for each film.¹

A large part of the appeal of the Lewton films can be put down to the way in which tension is sustained by a refusal to spoon-feed the audience, or to reveal too much, too soon. Ken Yousten sums up the Lewton style nicely:

In general, Lewton concentrated on atmosphere and suggestion rather than just showing the "monster", to get the viewer to conjure up their own mental terrors. Another horror tactic he used often was the 'bus' — so named from the first time it was used in Cat People. A woman is walking through the dark streets of New York, followed by something. Tension mounts, and the audience is on the edge of their seats, expecting an attack. Just then, a bus zooms loudly into the picture, its brakes squealing and its door opening, startling the viewers who have been primed for an explosion.²

The director of Cat People, Jacques Tourneur, obviously learned his lessons in Lewton's RKO horror unit well, for when he came to make (the excellent) Night of the Demon, he almost succeeded in sustaining the invisibility of the 'monster' right to the bitter end. However, whether due to outside pressure (the most presistent rumour I've heard) or to his own 'better' judgement, Tourneur's film finishes with the appearance of a creature that is either terrifying or comical, depending on your proclivities.

Anyway, it matters little, as the main point is that the best Lewton/Tourneur horrors managed to keep the tension cranked right to the finish line (or pretty close to it). When one sees the likes of Jeepers Creepers (and its ilk), where the revelation of the monster renders the last half of the movie unbearably tedious, one can't help but wish for directors/producers with the guts to avoid 'showing their hands' too early.

Anyway, I look forward (like an expectant and excited puppy) to the arrival of my purchase, for this is (assuredly) a box-set worth getting. The same can't quite be said for a set I saw recently in HMV, and one which had me damn close to rubbing my eyes and in need of a stiff drink: The 'Allo 'Allo collection…

Lord save us all…there are some deranged types among us…

1. Val Lewton -Wikipedia [back]
2. Val Lewton Homepage [back]