‘We can see worlds that no human eye has ever seen…’
A series of strange murders in a remote region of Central Africa has made the natives restless and has them turning back to their voodoo superstitions. The bodies have all been partially drained of blood, and talk at the local mission turns to vampires. Chief suspect is the local bar owner, who is targeted by the locals when out on safari.
Republic Studios were known for their Westerns and movie serials rather than horror pictures, and this one betrays its tiny budget with unconvincing studio sets, a tiny cast, and a small scale climax. The storyline is rather generic, despite the unusual setting, with the identity of the big bad revealed very early on. This is undoubtedly a good thing, as actor John Abbott is almost the whole show here; bringing a deliciously weary melancholy to the role of the undead fiend. His wide, expressive eyes seem to reflect lifetimes of experience, and it’s actually a disappointment when he falls for heroine Peggy Stewart and the main plot kicks into gear. Abbott was a character actor of many credits, but is probably best known to fans to genre fans for a prominent role in the ‘Star Trek’ story ‘Errand of Mercy.’
‘Oh, the pain, the pain…’
The only help Abbott gets in lifting this one to the next level is from director Lesley Salender, who manages to evoke a little atmosphere at times and, if the plot is nothing remotely original, at least the script is literate, and there’s some nice business involving a box and the earth from Abbott’s native land. One of the co-writers was a young Leigh Brackett, who had a slightly more famous gig 30-odd years later when she co-authored ‘The Empire Strikes Back’ (1980), although she died before the film’s release.
The rest of the cast perform capably enough, and Grant Withers worked with director John Ford shortly afterwards on ‘My Darling Clementine’ (1946) and ‘Fort Apache’ (1948). Production values are low, but the final picture is still quite accomplished, bearing in mind the obviously limited resources available. All this wouldn’t have amounted to very much without Abbott, though; he commands the screen when he’s present and scenes without him tend to be lifeless and drag a little. It’s a shame he wasn’t on Universal Studio’s radar when they were casting a picture like ‘Son of Dracula’ (1943), with Lon Chaney Jr. Abbott’s gaunt looks and sad tones were tailor made for a role like that.
A modest little programmer, enlivened by a fine central performance, but little else.
Mark David Welsh 