Of all the cinematic conventions that have seemingly gone out of style, none is more fascinating than that of the horror anthology. Perhaps not entirely absent, the days when films were built around short but impactful stories, often retaining some loose connection through wraparound sequences, are long behind us. A few months ago, I reviewed The House that Dripped Blood, a wonderful anthology from Amicus, a lesser-known studio that tried ardently to challenge the intimidating Hammer Films, which certainly had the stranglehold on unconventional European horror in the 1970s. I enjoyed that film, but it was only one work from what I could already see was a studio that was far more than just a scrappy challenger to the more established films of Hammer, and this is best exemplified with the second Amicus film I endeavoured to watch, Tales from the Crypt. This is not only a major improvement on The House That Dripped Blood (insofar, for example, as the title of this one is actually accurate), but because this is a film that stands as a more mature horror film – a chilling and dark film with a simple but effective structure, masterful storytelling and some impressive filmmaking, along with a cast of talented performers, some of which give some truly impressive horror performances, especially from one horror veteran in particular who really left an impact. Most certainly not perfect, Tales from the Crypt is a charming and riveting horror film that embraces its flaws and constructs something singularly unique and unquestionably terrifying, which is all one needs with a good horror film.

Five individuals find themselves, by some impulse, entering into some catacombs somewhere in the English countryside, where they are meant to be on a tour of the underground tombs. They lose their way, and enter into the chamber of the Cryptkeeper (Ralph Richardson), who assures his visitors that he has a purpose – he proceeds to show them the one moment we all wonder about, but never quite want to address – the moment of our deaths. One by one, these individuals are presented with how they are to meet their demise, told in self-contained segments that portray them finding themselves in some deadly situations, some of them veering off into the realm of the entirely unknown, others being strikingly realistic. It becomes clear that the quintet is not the most admirable bunch – a murderous wife, a cheating husband, a jealous neighbour, a sleazy businessman and a malicious ex-soldier – and their lack of morality and sinful actions, which are all kept quite secret, prove to be the one aspect that binds them together, and their visit with the Cryptkeeper is far less of a coincidence – but what is this mysterious raconteur’s purpose that he keeps vaguely alluding to? Certainly, there must be something connecting these stories – and by the end of Tales from the Crypt, it becomes increasingly clear why we have spent the past ninety minutes with these despicable characters.

First of all, let’s talk about the performances. Anthology films are great experiments for a number of reasons, and more than anything else, they often manage to recruit some remarkable performers into the ensemble – it is solid work without the commitment of a feature-length film, and thus in these self-contained stories, we can see an array of great talent flourishing – but there is always the threat that there will be many standouts that prove to overshadow some of the more subtle performances. Tales from the Crypt has a great ensemble, but there are some players here that are more memorable than others, such as Joan Collins as a vengeful, greedy wife who kills her loving husband just for the sake of his insurance policy. The story featuring Collins is perhaps the only realistic one, but it is also the most terrifying because of how possible such an event would be – who of us hasn’t fought off a killer Santa Clause at some point in our lives? Peter Cushing, perhaps the greatest horror film performer in history, is the heart of the film as the elderly dustman who lives a peaceful, happy life of generosity and kindness, but is the victim of scorn by some malicious, uptight neighbours. It isn’t often that a stalwart like Cushing would play a character so vulnerable and ordinary, normally making his career with looming villains or elegant intellectuals, yet Tales from the Crypt is one of his finest moments, not only because it represents a change of pace for the actor, but because it allows him to showcase his deeper talents and because even though this is not a particularly complex character, Cushing plays him with the sincerity and intensity as if he was the protagonist of the entire film – a great merit of Tales from the Crypt that differentiates it from films of its kind is how it is dedicated to creating memorable, lasting characters, not merely vessels for the story. Finally, the great but criminally underrated Patrick Magee is incredible as the blind man who decides to take matters into his own hands when presented with the arrival of a particularly difficult superintendent to the care home he and he fellow visually-impaired individual call home. The performances in Tales from the Crypt are objectively great, and every performer is operating on all cylinders to bring life to otherwise one-dimensional characters.

There is something quite unique about Tales from the Crypt, a theme that works much better in this format of an anthology as opposed to a more lucid, consistent narrative work – the characters in Tales from the Crypt are all extremely bad people – these are murderers, cheats, disloyal spouses and everything in between. It is a rogues gallery of society’s more quiet villains, and each of these five cads takes centre stage in stories that are not merely terrifying glimpses into some awful individuals receiving their well-earned comeuppance, but also a journey into social uncertainty. Perhaps reading too much into this film is unnecessary, but the decision to root Tales from the Crypt mainly in the realm of the realistic with some otherworldly flourishes, as opposed to taking full advantage of the supernatural conventions normally present in the sub-genre, was quite a daring and extremely refreshing change of pace for the anthology form. It is never made explicitly clear, but there is some social significance to each of these stories – financial uncertainty being a major one, but others such as marriage, unemployment, grief and the post-war experience form the background of this film, and while they don’t prove to be entirely important, they give Tales from the Crypt a certain gravitas that makes it so much more compelling than other films like it. British horror, especially from the 1970s, has always been quite inert and distinctive in its approach to imbuing their stories with some real-world significance, regardless of how subtle. This is an idea that I won’t be exploring too deeply at this moment because it requires a lot more research and thought, but there is something so sinister about these kinds of films, and I assure you its not the supernatural elements that are the most starkly haunting.

It is important, when looking at Tales from the Crypt, to remark on how this is a very different kind of horror film, especially when considering it as a product of its time. Hammer Films made some exceptionally scary films, but they often made sure their films had even the smallest semblance of humor, just a darkly comical streak, especially in the anthology films, which were essentially just a set of small-scale horror stories loosely connected to create the illusion that they are one entity, and not just disjointed segments working towards a more complete whole which is not necessarily always there. Humour in these kinds of films aren’t necessarily a shortcoming, and it can make for a more riveting experience (to be terrified is one thing, but to be provoked to laugh in these terrifying moments is something entirely different). Tales from the Crypt differs (even from The House that Dripped Blood) mainly because everything is kept very direct and straightforward – there is a lack of playfulness in this film, with the segments being short but impactful, running long enough to be utterly terrifying, but ending before it becomes tedious. The framing device is also an improvement on its predecessor (as entertaining as the idea of a house with a dark history may be, it can become slightly ludicrous towards the end). There is no self-referential humour or meta-commentary on the horror form – Tales from the Crypt is quite simply five compelling short films, episodic moments of unhinged horror, presented in a chilling but delightfully devious manner. Perhaps it may not hit the heights of some distinctive examples of the anthology horror, but Tales from the Crypt is certainly an effective and well-made film that stands as one of the genre’s very best.

In all honesty, Tales from the Crypt is not particularly innovative, and it won’t convert the unconverted to horror. Yet, it still manages to be quite original, and very compelling in its own way – whether it be through the masterful performances of a talented cast, simple but intricate filmmaking which has allowed this film to remain almost entirely ageless (especially considering how universal some of the underlying themes are) and most importantly, the general intention to prioritize story as opposed to just focusing on the scares. Tales from the Crypt really is a terrific film, and it stands as a shining moment for Amicus, which was clearly putting in as much effort as possible to create memorable and unique films that retain the spirit of its more distinguished competitors while not losing the heart and soul. Fascinating, haunting and utterly chilling, Tales from the Crypt is a great film that the viewer won’t soon be forgetting – especially considering the horrifying parting words the Cryptkeeper leaves us with, and if this film doesn’t convince you of the terrifying might of the horror anthology sub-genre, nothing will.