They just don’t make horror films like they used to anymore. Not to imply that considerably original work isn’t being done in horror cinema today, but that there was a time when horror was, dare I say, warm and endearing. The British horror films of the 1960s and 1970s had a certain elegant charm that made them so entertaining and enjoyable to watch, and while most contemporary horror films have the intention of terrifying the audience out of their wits, the films we are talking about here are a lot more elegant than just inspiring unhinged fear. We can look at the subject of this review, The House That Dripped Blood, in order to see exactly why these films were such masterfully entertaining affairs. An elegant and charming horror film, and one that manages to be chilling without being overtly terrifying, as well as not playing it entirely straight, but also never resorting to camp, The House That Dripped Blood may not be the pinnacle of great British horror, but it is certainly something very special, a wonderful subversion of both the haunted house trope and the anthology horror format (both of which were in their heyday around this era, and have unfortunately failed to be nearly as captivating when used in modern contexts), and a terrifyingly terrific horror film that amuses and frightens in equal measure.

The film is focused centrally on the titular location, an ominous countryside manor which has recently been the subject of some scrutiny after a popular film star disappeared shortly after moving in. A detective from Scotland Yard is sent to investigate, and talking to the local authorities and the real estate agent in charge of renting out the house, he begins to unravel the secrets of the house, which has previously been the location of a few different mysterious circumstances, each of which is presented as a segment in the film, as we see the horrifyingly dark stories about how several tenants of the house over the years come to meet their end through various means. They include a writer who becomes a victim of his own creation, a lonely stockbroker who is far too obsessive, an over-protective father and his sinister daughter and the aforementioned film star, whose arrogance soon proves to be his ultimate downfall. There is something amiss about that house, a mystery that becomes more complex and intricate the more the investigator and the audience learns about it, resulting in a truly haunting climax that lingers on long after the final credits have come and gone.

The anthology format is really an inspired way of telling stories, especially horror stories, and they hearken back to the days of Penny Dreadfuls and the short fictions of the likes of Edgar Allan Poe and H.P. Lovecraft, who managed to terrify in very small doses. The anthology format is not used effectively nowadays in horror, but they were in their heydays in the 1970s, it was rare to find something more captivating than a sincerely terrifying anthology film, of which The House That Dripped Blood is a remarkably decent, well-composed one. The format allows the stories to be told without having to need to pad the “dead air” with unnecessary details or moments that don’t serve the grander purpose. Each one of these stories are pretty standard, but they pack quite an emotional punch through their brevity and their simplicity, as well as their unrestrained elegance – there is a certain composed dignity about a film like The House That Dripped Blood, because while it can be quite horrifying at times, it is never exploitative or unnecessarily grotesque. I’m an ardent proponent of films that manage to convey a resonant story through means that are unfurnished and straightforward, and what the segments The House That Dripped Blood lack in length they make up for in exquisite filmmaking, strong character work and willful storytelling that is eccentric and economical.

The House That Dripped Blood is set apart from other anthology horror films insofar as while many of them rely on one or two “centrepiece” segments, with the rest being either “warm-up” segments, or just ways to fill up space, each and every one of the four segments in The House That Dripped Blood is equally as good, and even the wrap-around narrative was effective, extending far beyond simply being a way to connect the stories, but rather a compelling part of the central horror narrative in itself. However, that doesn’t mean that I don’t have personal favourites, and I found the most interesting story to be the first, “Method of Murder”, where a horror writer starts to lose his mind as one of his latest creations, a strangler named Dominick, starts to take over his life and materialize into something quite real, yet no one will believe this writer’s over-active imagination is actually seeing what he claims to be seeing. I also enjoyed the second segment, “Waxworks”, which was obsessively terrifying. The later two segments, “Sweets for the Sweet” and “The Cloak”, are also excellent, but they don’t have the same impact as the previous two. However, as a whole, they work exceptionally well together, and link in a way that is natural, but not banal – they are each distinctive in their own way but remain wonderfully within the confines of the film’s theme. Each segment stands on its own as episodic micro-films of horror, and even taken individually, they are effective – but their assimilation into the film as a whole, especially the climactic revelation, is quite profound and makes The House That Dripped Blood quite an exhaustingly powerful experience.

British horror films of the era were not always that distinctive for their character work, despite the fact that some of the country’s finest talents made their names in the genre. The House That Dripped Blood features a few of them, most notably Christopher Lee and Peter Cushing, iconoclasts of British cinema, who are mostly beloved for their definitive horror performances. Quite notably, neither of them occupy villainous roles in this film, and appearing in different segments, they are both victims of the house’s terrifying energy and its ability to manipulate the human psyche into believing certain things, as well as materializing the intangible and the impossible. Lee and Cushing were excellent, as always, but the most noteworthy performances in The House That Dripped Blood comes from a trio of performers that really surprised me – Denholm Elliot, Ingrid Pitt and Jon Pertwee. None of them are strangers to this genre, and we all established performers in their own right. Yet, they were most definitely the most valuable members of this ensemble, giving complex and nuanced performances. In particular, Elliot’s deterioration from literary stalwart to insecure, paranoid wreck and Pertwee’s movement from arrogant film star to the frightened victim were excellent, as was Pitt’s transformation from inconsequential love interest to possibly the film’s most terrifying character. The cast as a whole was really terrific and did exceptionally well with the material. Peter Duffell is an odd director for this kind of material, specifically because he seems to truly care about these characters, and their development is strangely excellent.

The House That Dripped Blood is a great film. Perhaps it doesn’t redefine horror cinema, but it is still an effective, chilling classic horror that takes a more sophisticated route of many great horror films of yore, providing sophisticated thrills and predictable but nonetheless enthralling frights. The character development exceeds other films of the genre, and as a whole, Peter Duffell made an excellent horror film that makes for entertaining cinema. It is a terrifying film, but not one that cauterizes or leaves the audience in a paranoid state. However, it does linger as a terrific film, and as a great representation of why anthology films are such an affecting narrative form. The House That Dripped Blood is certainly an excellent film, a diverting horror that has unexpected depth and a profound sense of fear, and is overall a memorably good time.

Also, I am contractually obligated to mention that, despite the evocative title, there’s no blood in this movie. Do with that information what you will.