‘Any obtrusive sound deeply affects the tranquillity of this house.’
When he visits an old friend, a young engineer is shocked to find the man seriously ill and his house on the verge of imminent collapse. Dark family secrets emerge as it becomes clear that the building is cursed and the bloodline doomed…
A film version of the famous Edgar Allan Poe tale made for television by producer-director by James L Conway. Martin Landau stars as Roderick Usher; the role made famous by Vincent Price almost twenty years before in Roger Corman’s ‘House of Usher’ (1960). Although this effort can’t match the quality of that film, it displays some surprisingly good production values and a smattering of interesting ideas.
Jonathan Cresswell (Robert Hays) is just settling into married life with new bride, Jennifer (Charlene Tilton) when he receives a strange letter from boyhood pal, Roderick Usher (Landau). It’s a strange cry for help that mentions the dangerous illness of his sister. Answering the call, the couple suffer a carriage mishap on their way to the house. This is convenient for budgetary purposes, but not so good for the audience as we don’t get to see see the dark lake or the dead forest from the story. The atmosphere on their midnight stroll is provided instead by a vicious Rottweiler which mysteriously drops dead after starting to tangle with Hays. The fact that it looks identical to the dog that Hays remembers as the family pet over 20 years earlier should be a red flag, but the couple carries on regardless.
‘This doesn’t look anything like an Oscar…’
When they reach the house, they are met at the door by faithful old retainer, Thaddeus (Ray Walston) who warns them against making any sudden noises. It’s here we get our first information about the strange malady which affects the Usher family. Hypersensitivity of all the senses leading to insanity. Apparently, Madeline (Dimitra Arliss) has already succumbed. She is confined to her chamber, although, in practice, she wanders around with an axe. Of course, the house is honeycombed with secret passages, and, of course, one of them is hidden behind a bookcase.
Landau has brought Hays to the house to try and save it because he’s an engineer, which is a nice touch, and the structure needs all the help it can get. The house is over 800 years old, having been brought over from Marseille and rebuilt, stone by stone, more than 200 years earlier. Now, it’s falling apart due to frequent earth tremors. The furniture is bolted to the floor to prevent it from flying about, although there’s a seemingly ever-present danger from falling chandeliers. These interiors are fairly well realised, and it’s nice to get a little of the building’s history, which is not usually addressed, although it was mentioned briefly in Corman’s film. It’s also nice to see that the relocation of the house included provision for the rest of the Usher line, the basement doubling as the family crypt!
‘Oh, no! The Secretary has disavowed my performance!’
There are some good points to this production, but it also has some flaws. On the credit side, there are some interesting ideas. The inclusion of Tilton’s character, not present in the original story, does provide an opportunity to open the story out, but her character is totally passive until the final moments. Interactions between her and Arliss’ doomed Madeline could have been interesting, but the latter is already batshit crazy before the young couple make the scene. There is a pleasing scene where Tilton visits the library, though, for some appropriate bedtime reading. Unfortunately, volumes on the history of Satanism and the folklore of Germany aren’t to her taste!
There’s also some nice business where Hays tries to shore up the fabric of the building with some dead trees, even if this does seem a big ask for just one man, even if the aged Walton is prepared to give a hand! The old servant also hangs the cooking knives on chains in the kitchen and secures them with padlocks, which is a striking little detail. On the debit side, the climax is very repetitive and over-stretched, and the television budget means there’s little of the lush design and visuals possible with a big-screen production.
‘I guess the foot’s on the other hand now, isn’t it, Kramer?’
The main issue is that the filmmakers felt the need to justify the horrors that occur, rather than leave things ambiguous as the original story did. Their explanation is not a bad one, but nor is it particularly original and it is provided at too much length. The flashbacks, which include a mob with flaming torches, seem unnecessary and there’s a suspicion that they exist just to pad the running time. It’s perfectly understandable why Stephen Lord’s script features this extra material; Poe’s story being long on atmosphere but short on events. However, it’s a pity that he couldn’t have come up with something a little more creative.
Predictably, the film suffers in comparison with both the classic French 1928 silent version directed by Jean Epstein and the 1960 film with Price. Performances are generally adequate, although Landau swings wildly between being quietly effective and chewing the scenery. It’s Wals
ton who comes out best, his family servant hinting at the horrors that plague the house without being too explicit. In retrospect, both Hays and Tilton might seem miscast, but neither looks out of place. Both were on the verge of brief stardom, Hays for comedy classic ‘Airplane!’ (1980) and Tilton for her role as Lucy Ewing on TV soap mega-hit ‘Dallas.’
Nothing special but, considering the almost complete absence of decent Poe adaptations in the 40 years since, quite a pleasant surprise.
Mark David Welsh 
I had no idea this existed. Landau is perfect for the material. Tilton and Hays excelled at comedy and lighter weight content. Here they seem miscast as you wrote.