Summary
Finally, a horror movie with production numbers! Vincent Price will dance and murder his way into your heart as Dr. Anton Phibes, the role he was born to play. Sculptor, chemist, zoologist, inventor, organist, painter, embalmer, dancer, surgeon, mechanic, Biblical scholar, botanist, and madman - Dr. Phibes brings all his considerable gifts to bear as he works through his grief over wifeís death by massacring the surgical team he holds responsible.
Warning! Spoilers ahead!
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Barbara's Rant
In my freshman design class we were told to design and construct a model of a piece of furniture. I chose to make a dresser. On initial examination, it appeared to have only a single small drawer at the base of six-foot tall plain wooden dresser. Upon opening, the drawer was found to contain an empty diary and a copy of Flaubertís Madame Bovary. Why did the owner keep the diary, but never write in it, except for a single date? Does Madame Bovary have a special significance? Who can say? Opening the drawer also caused a previously hidden handle in the right side of the dresser to reveal itself. A pull on this handle opened a rotating drawer, which contained tiny bundles of letters. Inside each tiny envelope (remember the model was built in 1î scale) was a tiny sheet of paper, on each of which I had copied a love poem. Who were the poems from? Was the owner of the dresser the recipient or the author? If the author, why were the poems never delivered? Why did I go to all the trouble of copying itty-bitty poems to go in envelopes which have never since been opened? We may never know. This second drawer also produced another surprise, in the form of a lever, which emerged from the far side of the dresser. This lever could be used to pull down another compartment, this one containing a tiny locket with a black-and-white photograph of a young man and little lock of hair, tied with a bow. Who is the man? Did the hair belong to him? If so, why the feminine bow tied around it? Life is full of mysteries. The final piece of the puzzle was then discovered - the top of the dresser lifted off, revealing three items - a rose, which I made to scale by cutting little pieces of real dried rose petals, a single poem, still in its envelope, about love and betrayal and forgiveness, and a single key. What the key unlocks, I have no idea. I, like you, know only the parts of the story suggested by the items found in the dresser and you are, of course free, to make up the rest of the story in whatever way you see fit. Why am I telling you all this? Iím trying to explain why I feel such an affinity with Dr. Phibes. I like to think that if I am ever compelled by my anger, grief, and an eroded grip on reality to commit atrocious acts of torture and murder that I will do it with the same artistry, poise, and attention to detail as Dr. Phibes. Imagine what the world could be if we all put the effort into the aesthetic value of our daily activities that Dr. Phibes puts into his! Granted, his daily activities are a little more violent than optimal, but if they werenít, and if we were all to adopt his standards . . . . what beauty could we not bring into the world? Every building would be a temple, every walk a dance of exuberant joy, every day a festival of sensuous delights! Heís a genius, I tell you - a GENIUS! . . . Excuse me. I got a little over-excited. Iíd better go lie down with a cool compress, or Iíll end up embalming myself alive, too.
BARBARA JO
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