mosquitodragon’s review published on Letterboxd:
"When I think of Tolstoy, Victor Hugo, Charles Dickens, where are they all now I ask myself?"
"I think they're dead, Sam."
There's one obvious reason for watching House of the Long Shadows and it comes with three names: Cushing, Price and Lee. John Carradine is also there. That's nice. But having the other three appear on screen together is a BIG DEAL. There's some nice support too from Sheila Keith, who is not a horror icon to anything like the same level although she did play the psycho granny in Walker's Frightmare, which holds a special place in my heart from having one shot taken from the road right next to my house which is a fucking miracle given the entirely unremarkable piece of England that I live in. But I digress.
Unfortunately, this is a hell of a long way from the best thing any of these three titans have ever done or even been associated with. In all honesty, it's a little bit dull, although they all get to have a bit of fun with their roles and I know it's asinine to repeat this but... you watch this movie just to see them perform, really. Simple as that. I particularly like Cushing's speech impediment (he always thought of something to make his characters distinct).
The plot doesn't add a lot of flavour. This is effectively a loose remake of The Old Dark House, in broad brushstrokes at least. Bunch of people stranded in an old house in a storm. A set of alarmingly eccentric middle-aged siblings. Talk of an insane family member secreted upstairs of whom they must all be afraid. This one nominally moves more into the horror genre by having said psycho gradually killing people off, slasher fashion. There are a couple of rather gruesome kills - the make-up effects aren't great but at least the mean spirit is there.
Pete Walker was one of those British genre guys whose films, while not great, are hard to dislike. Similarly to Norman J Warren, he was a committed independent who managed to crank some fun films out despite lacking much in the way of money. In this case, he managed to get some support from those wacky Israeli raconteurs, Golan and Globus, which may explain the stacked cast. And the incongruous central role for Desi Arnaz Jr, with his famous parentage and bouffy 80's mullet. He's OK, I suppose.
Although Pete Walker was a lovable scamp, he wasn't the greatest stylist, and this whole movie looks overlit and pretty televisual. The level of sexual chemistry between Arnaz Jr and his romantic lead, Julie Peasgood, is about as explosive as the reaction you get when you add salt to water - any suggested libido dissolves slowly over the course of the movie until your left with nothing but a slightly bitter aftertaste.
I guess I've ticked this off my Cushing, Lee and Price filmographies. It won't rank highly among any of those but hey, it's fine if you like British horror from this era.
