Horrors of the Black Museum (1959)

I love some of the older British horror films and Michael Gough but I could not get into this film at all. It was just boring to me, nothing that stood out and grabbed my attention. Not even the first murder interested me the way it was done.I guess the murders themselves are the reason this film is classified a horror film but it looks, feels and plays out more like a regular crime flick to me with some out of the ordinary murders occurring. So the film bored me to tears - just not my thing. Nothing special.I'm not going to say it's awful but I will say I did not enjoy it and I found it less than mediocre.2/10

Horrors of the Black Museum is directed by Arthur Crabtree and written by Herman Cohen and Aben Kandel. It stars Michael Gough, June Cunningham, Graham Curnow, Shirley Anne Field, Geoffrey Keen and Gerald Anderson. A CinemaScope/Eastman Color production, with music by Gerald Schurmann and cinematography by Desmond Dickinson. Thriller writer Edmond Bancroft (Gough) has his own private black museum modelled on the one at Scotland Yard. Needing ideas to spur on his muse, Bancroft hypnotises his assistant Rick (Curnow) to commit increasingly horrific crimes that he can then write about.You can understand why it has become a cult favourite in horror circles, it's so cheese laden and ridiculously lurid it's almost impossible to not have fun with it. Though the much celebrated novelty murder sequences do tend to detract from the many passages of dullness and bad acting on show. The blood beams bright, the girls flash their undies and Michael Gough is a wonderfully demented villain. We are of course asked to buy into the fact that the coppers must be dense to not know who is behind the killings, whilst you would think that anyone would notice that someone has built a guillotine over their bed and that there is a man perched above that as well! But hey, that's just being picky; right?Bonkers, Boring, Brutal, Bloody, all things that make it unforgettable... 5/10

I saw this film in 1959 when I was 13. In an early scene something happens that is so disturbing that I was physically shocked and for weeks after I had awful flashbacks. To this day I still am revolted thinking abut that scene. Today we are all hardened to hyper-violent films and yet I would not want to watch that scene again. Bottom line keep children younger than 30 away from this exploitive little film. Repeated to meet 10 line minimum. I saw this film in 1959 when I was 13. In an early scene something happens that is so disturbing that I was physically shocked and for weeks after I had awful flashbacks. To this day I still am revolted thinking abut that scene. Today we are all hardened to hyper-violent films and yet I would not want to watch that scene again. Bottom line keep children younger than 30 away from this exploitive little film.

Edmond Bancroft a famed crime writer/columnist wanting to make sure his next novel captures the accurate depiction of such vicious murders and to get some public notice. Goes about it by getting his inspiration from Scotland Yard's "Black Museum", where he has his own "Black Museum" filled with unpleasant devices he picks up at an local antique shop and he uses them randomly to murder unexpected victims. His assistant Rick, is the one who does his dirty business when he injects him with some substance that turns him into some monster who performs Edmond's bidding. Edmond constantly shows up at Scotland Yard to gloat on how they aren't getting anywhere with this case. This little British b-grade low-end shocker is crudely exploitative and effective when it's going for the throat. Sure time hasn't been kind on it, but the ghoulish ideas are inspired with a delicious blend of black humour, and the few unusual deaths have impact, as they are very daring, nasty and imaginative. Michael Gough turns in a splendorous lead performance of smarting arrogance as Edmond Bancroft. These aspects are the selling points. The story is effortless, but branching off from it is plenty of distracting sub-plots, which can lull about. Some things seem contrived, rushed and a little questionable. Especially how Gough's character leaves himself open to be caught a number of times and how stupid some of his victims are. However writers Herman Cohen and Aben Kendal do strike up some interesting concepts and morbid themes. In between the deaths and Grand Guignol moments, it can becomes overly talky, but this compact script smoothly rolls off the cast's tongues. Director Arthur Crabtree's pastel touch is competent and some suspenseful surprises and gimmicks are neatly handled. The film really does have a musty look that is nabbed by its brusque photography, and settling in is a resounding music score with an ominous sting. The rest of the performances were reasonably sound. It could've been better, but it's cheaply lurid and preposterous horror fun.