#hollywood men

Pssst! Over here. You listening? Good. Because I’m going to start iheartvincentprice.tumblr.com’s third horror-ble movie review of the month with an iiiiiitty bitty confession:

I wasn’t the biggest fan of this movie.

Hold the cyber punches just a minute, Muhammad! 

Before y'all show up at my house wielding torches and pitchforks in response to the semi-sacrilegious confession I’ve just made, lemme just say that YES: I know House of Wax is a classic and lotsa people have loved the crap out of it for decades. But if I came all up in here and told you I thought the movie was the best thing since cinematic sliced bread, I’d be straight up lying. And no one wants to read the blog of a damn liar, yo.

But let me also say this:

Vincey was amazing. OBVI. He was the best thing in this movie. OBVI. Pssht! Goes without saying!

I just wasn’t over the moon about the movie itselfIFYAKNOWWHATIMEAN: the long-ass paddle ball and can-can sequences (do we HAVE to watch five whole minutes of a grown ass man playing paddle ball on the street and can-can dancers pulling up their ruffled dresses so we can catch glimpses of their French underwear?), the obnoxious faux-laugh (not to mention unbearable ditziness) of Carolyn Jones’ character. And film snobs, get off those high horses: I’m well aware that the reason the first two sequences I mentioned were so gee-danged long was to show off the movie’s 3D effects (which I’m sure were just mind-blowing back in 1953). But 3D or no 3D, too long is too long is too loooooong.

What 3D looked like in 1953. I kiiid, I kiiid (kinda). 

So instead of walking you through the movie itself, I’ll just walk you through my favorite Vincey parts, since THAT’S THE REAL REASON YOU’RE READING THIS ISH, am I right?

House of Wax (1953) was a remake of the movie Mystery of the Wax Museum (1933) and was the first color 3D feature film to be released by a major American studio. It was received two more wide (read: huge ass ad campaigns) re-releases in 1971 and the early 1980s, and is considered an all-time horror favorite for the ages. 

(I’m not even going to get into the 2005 remake starring Paris Hilton. You’re welcome.)

Vincent Price plays Henry Jarrod, a passionate wax figure sculptor who specializes in recreating historical figures such as Marie Antionette, John Wilkes Booth and Joan of Arc, which he keeps in a little museum. He is obsessively (almost creepily) devoted to his wax creations: he talks to them and they talk back (or so he thinks…). They are his babies, his children, and he would die rather than allow them to come into harm’s way. I know that most people might find Vincent’s character’s obsession with wax mannequins kind of…well, sick, but being the depraved ladybaby I am, I have to say that I found it super duper adorable. Like sugary-sweet-with-a-cherry-and-a-double-rainbow-on-top cute. If you love the sexy beast of a man as I do, I think you’ll feel the same.

DAWWWWW!

But Vincent’s evil and greedy (note: two bad qualities in a person) business partner (Roy Roberts) isn’t happy. He wants Vincent to produce more “sensational” waxwork to please the common folk who are just looking to pay for a cheap thrill wherever they can find it. But VP straight up refuses to lower his personal and aesthetic standards (he’s a class act, y’all). Fed up, the money-hungry Roberts decides he wants to commit ARSON of all damn things and destroy the museum and all of Vincent’s beloved figures with it! My heart broke a little at seeing poor Vincey’s desperate attempts to fight off the evil man and save his cherished body (or shall I say bodies?) of work. 

Alas, the fire consumes everything, but Vincent’s character manages to survive, albeit considerably disfigured – let’s just say that “Vincey PF” (Post Fire) in this film seriously reminded me of Lon Chaney in Phantom of the Opera(1925). 

Perhaps a little early inspiration for Freddy Krueger? 

But despair not, VP lovahs! Via the powers of wax artistry (who knew?) the gorgeous man manages to get his original, beautiful face back for the remainder of the movie:

That is, until this happens:

And with the help of his very own Igor (Charles Bronson), VP decides to open up a sensational wax museum, featuring a “Chamber of Horrors” which displays shocking renditions of historical and present-day (i.e. 1890s) crimes, designed to thrill and scandalize the crowds who show up in droves to see the one-of-a-kind spectacle.

Ain’t nuthin’ freakier than the ‘lectric chair. 

This brings me to my final favorite Vincey-related element of the movie: his character’s transformation. VP’s character starts out as a humble servant of all things beautiful and artistic, adamantly rejecting sensationalism and everything it stands for. But over the course of the film and as a result of what happens to him, he transforms into a man who comes to fully embrace all things shocking and horrific. He also comes to embrace his own dark side with open, lovin’ arms. I believe this kind of transformational arc strikes a primal chord with many a foolish mortal: we all have sinister urges within us, but most of us choose to live out our darker fantasies through the characters in the movies we watch. Perhaps its exploration of this simple yet powerful primal theme is one of the reasons behind the enduring success of House of Wax.

And when it comes to personifying the “dark unconscious of the whole human race” (as Vincent would so eloquently put it), what better man to embody the ever-fascinating transformation from good to evil than the incomparable Vincent Price? 

Next week, I shall be reviewing Dragonwyck. 

So get yer lobster bibs on and try not to choke on your own saliva, you lecherous Vincent Price lovahs! 

I would totally go to In-N-Out with him any day of the week. 

The time has come, the iheartvincentprice.tumblr.com blogger said, to talk of other things! You guessed it, dear cabbages – it’s time for another delightfully ghoulish Vincent Price movie review!

Our second review of the month concerns the “horror-comedy” The Raven (1963), starring Peter Lorre, Boris Karloff, and, of course, Vincey. According to the always-accurate Wikipedia, The Raven was the fifth in a series of Edgar Allan Poe stories adapted to the big screen by horror king, Roger Corman.

Our story opens with another typical night at Sinister Castle de Vincent Price ® sometime in the 15^th century. As in The Pit and the Pendulum (am I detecting a theme here?), we find Vincey in mourning of his deceased wife, Lenore (Hazel Court), though as his cheeky blonde daughter (Olive Sturgess) gently points out, it has been two years since she died – ya think it might be time to start thinking about boarding the old “moveon.org” train?

But Vincent will hear nothing of it. His wife was an amazing woman – perfect, actually, and no one compares to her (holla Sinead O’Connor). So instead of nursing his broken heart by constructing a half-assed profile on OkCupid like the rest of us, Vincey busies himself with his nightly routine of listlessly dusting his wife’s coffin (which they keep…IN THE HOUSE???), quaffing goblets of hot milk, and repeatedly tripping over the huge telescope in his study (can you say sight gag?).

When suddenly, a crotchety, demanding raven swoops (literally!) into his life! Yes, cabbages, VP gets to play opposite an actual animal in this movie. Many actors consider this to be the ultimate pain-in-the-ass challenge, but being the talented, sexy beast he is, Vincey pulls it off effortlessly. 

The raven claims to be a man named Dr. Bedlo (Peter Lorre), who was transformed into a bird by the evil sorcerer, Dr. Scarabus (Boris Karloff). The kindhearted Vincey uses his own training in sorcery to help Bedlo return to his human form (at least partially).

After working out the kinks (I mean it is sorcery - you can’t expect things to be perfect right out the gate, y'all), Dr. Bedlo’s human body is fully restored. You’d think the movie would pretty much end right here, but nooooo: Lorre is thirsty for revenge on Scarabus! And he knows that Vincey has the skills of sorcery to help him take down the evil wizard!

At first, Vincent doesn’t want to get involved. Keep me out of this, man. Scarabus intimidates him, what with his ability to conduct magic with hand gestures alone! And as he points out: “Magic by gesture of the hands is the most advanced sorcery.” (good to know)

But Bedlo gets Vincent to change his mind after he says he saw Vincent’s wife’s ghost at Scarabus’ castle (I suspect foul play). Desperate to see his beloved wife again, he finally agrees to accompany Bedlo on his ill-advised revenge-a-thon. And after donning a stylish fur-trimmed coat and matching hat, they are on their way!

Accompanying them is Vincent’s daughter and Bedlo’s idiot son, played by some young oaf who seems to choke on his lines an awful lot. I wonder if this guy ever made it in Hollywood, or if he just vanished into the throes of oblivion like so many other ill-fated actors…

…oh holy crap, that’s Jack Nicholson! My bad.

This movie is totally more star-studded than I realized!

They arrive at the castle and meet the eve-ull Dr. Scarabus. And, uh, Vincent? That lovely dead wife of yours you revered so much? She never died. She just pretended to die so she could run away with Scarabus, cuz she’s attracted to power (duh) and Scarabus is the most talented sorcerer in all the land (…or ishe?*devious cackle*).

(By the way, this theme of dead wives turning out to be alive all along seems to be a pretty common thing with these movies, no?)

Of course, finding out your wife ditched you because you weren’t “magical” enough is the kind of thing that would put a damper on anyone’s day, but Vincey takes it in stride. I mean, let’s face it: it’s way easier to get over someone once you’ve realized they’re a shallow douchebag than when you thought they were your perfect dream girl/guy, right?

Towards the end of the movie, Vincent and Scarabus engage in a “duel to the death” (I LOVE these!), during which VP digs deep down and shows his magical stuff in order to defeat the evil homewrecker: he levitates in his chair and even shoots neon green animated sparks out of his fingertips

Super high tech stuff, homies.

It turns out, ol’ Vincent was holding out on us – and himself – all along: He is a great magician – he was just afraid of his own talent. Vincent defeats Scarabus and decides that he’ll never let his unique gift go to waste again.  

Quoth the raven, “NEVAHMOAH!”

The movie as a whole makes for a fun evening of horror-star-studded entertainment, and as fully expected, Vincent does an excellent job of bringing his unique brand of elegance to a comedic role. Seriously, the man was the epitome of elegance, yet he wasn’t afraid to chow down on a piece of screwball comedy pie from time to time.

It’s one of the many things that make him great – and the ultimate dead man crush.

Real talk. 

Many foolish mortals think of ‘ol Vincey as simply the ghouliest, ghostiest movie star of all time, and while they’re right about that (hells to the yeah!), the truth is that Vincent Price was so much more than a movie monstah: the man was a master chef and the author of two highly-regarded cookbooks!

A Treasury of Great Recipes (1965) and Come into the Kitchen Cook Book (1969) were written by Vincey and (le sigh) his wife, Mary Price (i.e. the luckiest dame in the world. Real talk.)

And today, my little cabbages, you have one of the dirtiest, naughtiest delights from A Treasury of Great Recipes by Mary & Vincent Price right at your fingertips:

Toad-In-The-Hole

Don’t be scurred - it’s easy, homies!

First, go to the store and get…

The Goods:

24 small breakfast sausages (precooked or uncooked, Vienna or vegetarian – it ain’t no thang, y’all)

1 tablespoon veggie oil

¼ teaspoon salty salt salt

2 eggies

1 cup moo-milk

1 cup flower

(oh, and make sure you have a muffin man tin pan, of course)

Every domesticated mortal oughta have one!

And now…

The Steps:

1. Keep the moo-milk and eggies at room temp.

2. Sift the flower and the salty salt salt into a bowl. Stir in the milk.

3. In another bowl, give the eggies a nice, long beating (they’ve been very naughty) until they’re nice and frothy (oh la la!). Then add them to the milk/flower/salt thang and beat them all together.

4. Let the batter rest for 30 minutes or so. While you’re waiting, preheat your adult-sized Easy-Bake Oven (you know you wish Hasbro actually made them) to 400 degrees 

5. Heat the veggie oil in a skillet. Prick (!) the sausages with a fork and fry ‘em up ‘til they’re cooked (or until they’re warmed if they’re precooked sausages)

Damn, this is turning into a real sausage-fest isn’t it?

5. Place one sausage and a lil bit of oil from ye olde skillet in each cup of your muffin man tin pan. Then place the pan in the oven.

6. Pour the batter that you once gave such a merciless beating to into the heated muffin tin pan cups (along with the sausages) and bake ‘em for 15 minutes.

7. Ding! 15 minutes is up! Reduce the heat to 350 degrees and bake another 10 minutes until the batter is brown and puffayyy.

8. Let the Toad-In-The-Holes cool in their tins for a while before you serve (I know you wanna eat NOW, but pump the breaks, Turbo)

The sausages will be semi-hidden in the puffy pastry, delivering a juicy and meaty surprise to your friends when they bite into your culinary creation.

***

And there you have it, cabbages: the story of how Vincent Price made cooking sexy.

Now go and make him proud, you libidinous little chef, you!

Welcome, foolish mortals, to iheartvincentprice.tumblr.com: a month-long celebration of one of the hottest man-gods ever to walk the face of this good, green earth…

…and my ultimate dead man crush. 

(insert VP-esque-end-of-Michael-Jackson’s-Thriller-type-maniacal-laughter here)

Before we dive in, a note: I will not be announcing spoiler alerts in this blog. If you’re brave enough to read about a lecherous 28-year-old ladybaby lusting over a dead guy, trust me: you’re also brave enough to take the risk that you might swallow some unexpected movie spoilers along the way. Such is lust. Such is life.

And now, for the first deliciously diabolical movie review of the month:       

Ah yes. The Pit and the Pendulum. What better way to kick off an entire month of VP lovin’ than to review this unforgettable Edgar Allan Poe tale of torture (are you surprised?), grief and, plain ol’ crazy-tude. No one plays insane like Vincey. He is simply a pro when it comes to maniacal facial expressions (including, but in no way limited to an astoundingly well-executed version of “the crazy eye”), gibbering, fevered monologues, and sadistic, uncontrollable cackling.

But first, some background: ThePit and the Pendulum was released in 1961 and directed by Roger Corman (diehard musical theater geeks will recognize him as the creator of the original, non-musical film The Little Shop of Horrors). It’s set in Spain in the 16^th century in a sinister castle (hawt), where Vincey lives with his supportive and sympathetic sister (Luana Anders) and is mourning the recent death of his beloved wife Elizabeth (Barbara Steele).

Seems like a great life, right? But wait! There’s a foreboding stranger at the door! And blast! It’s none other than Elizabeth’s brother, (John Kerr - all growed up since his role as the awkward teenager-turned-cougar-lovah in Tea & Sympathy). Dubious and (understandably) suspicious, he arrives at Castle Price demanding to know the “true reason” behind Elizabeth’s untimely death. She couldn’t have died from a rare blood disease. She just couldn’t have!

Having provided the basic backstory, let us now dive into the lusty, lascivious portion of tonight’s opera.

First, allow me state the obvious: there’s nothing sexier than a tormented, brooding man.

I’m not trying to get all manic-pixie-dream-girl on ya, but it’s true. Let’s face it, cabbages. We’ve all met the opposite of the broody-man, and he’s not all that interesting, is he? Oh sure, he’s chock full of energy and positivity (yawn). He can’t wait to go to Vegas with his bros next month (check please). He’s pumped (and will actually use the word “pumped”) about the presentation he’s giving at his job this Thursday (gag me with a spoon). 

These types of men remind me of Dalmatian puppies. They’re adorable in that they seem to possess an endless reservoir of energy and zest for life…but let’s face it: that shit gets old.  

And if you’re a non-dingbat individual in possession of even an iota of personal substance or emotional depth?

It’s the tormented, brooding, conflicted men you really wanna fuck.

Am I right, y’all?

Needless to say, VP’s got the tormented, tortured act down. To a Tee. To a Tee PLUS, homies. As his character’s anguish intensifies, you, my fellow Vincent Price lovahs, will be delighted to know that he performs:

1) a very sensual fainting take, and

2) one very sexy/hilarious expression in response to accidentally stumbling into some thick spider webs (I mean, who doesn’t feel sexy stumbling into a spider web the size of freakin’ KANSAS?).

But the best part? He does it all in an extremely prominent 16th century ruffled collar:                         

Oh yeah. I’m getting hot.

But the best and Vincey Priciest of acting comes in the last third of the film, when he follows his dead wife’s beckoning all the way down into the torture chamber in his basement (don’t act like you never thought of getting one), and then during the glorious finale when he goes stark raving cray cray and starts channeling his sadistic, torture-obsessed father.

The movie as a whole holds up as a rather entertaining and suspenseful chunk of work. If you’ve ever read anything by Edgar Allan Poe, you hopefully already know that the man: 1) was probably a mental case, and 2) knew how to tap into primal human fears like none other (okay, maybe Stephen King, but he came way later). One of those fears is of being buried alive (ahem: “premature interment” as they refer to it in the film - and yes, I am consciously choosing to refrain from making a joke about it). And I must say that even in a 52-year-old movie, the concept does not fail to pack an emotional punch. The penultimate pendulum scene (hah! I got to use an SAT word) builds tremendous suspense: it actually had me gasping a few times (Imagine! Moi! Gasping!) And from a psychological standpoint, the movie is great fun and contains plenty of post-film discussion fodder: there’s daddy issues, dissociation and lunacy. What more could a twisted, depraved moviegoer ask for?

        “Am I not the spawn of his depraved blood?” Yes, Vincey, you are.

Maybe I’m biased (wellOFCOURSEIam), but I really don’t think the movie could have been as entertaining without ol’ Vincent in the lead role. One of the man’s great talents lay in his ability to be totally and utterly believable in some of the most unbelievable roles…and to bring a sense of humor to those roles at the same time. To see his transformation from weak-and-resigned-widower-in-mourning-turned-stark-raving-lunatic is nothing short of mesmerizing.

Not to mention incredibly sexy.

But you already knew I was going to say that.