THE HORROR OF FRANKENSTEIN (1970) ** The Whore of Frankenstein? Oh, the “horror,” yes, I see. Well, knowing it's a Hammer flick you have to be ready for...not necessarily anything , but at least anything in bad taste. Truth is that it's not nearly as bad as a lot of their stuff, probably because they're at least half-heartedly trying to amuse as much as disgust. Ralph Bates is pretty funny, actually, he has obviously given a great deal of thought to what the most repulsive traits of British class-snobs are, and refuses to give himself freer reign than they have. So he's there looking very ‘70s and regurgitating these rather formulaic but pompous responses to all that occurs, and you know that he thinks it's even more clever than it is (or maybe that's an even more profound part of the act). Which is kind of fun. The plot is reasonably true to the Frankenstein myth, at least until the end, but what adaptations they do throw in aren't more than half-baked. There doesn't appear to be much sense to the slight plot tributaries involving either Kate O'Mara or Veronica Carlson, other than perhaps to suggest that women aren't usually very bright. Where's Bette Davis when you need her?
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