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sonofgodzillaThere is a sense of desperation in the atmosphere of Corman’s adaptation of The Masque of the Red Death that I feel people do not often give the director credit for. This isn’t to say that there aren’t moments of ridiculous kitsch and camp, but, for the most part, the atmosphere conveyed is one of claustrophobia and anxiety.
Based on the Edgar Allan Poe story of the same name, the tale has gone on to make its presence known throughout pop culture, though, in the setting of the story, there is the faintest suggestion that perhaps Poe was influenced by de Sade’s 120 Days of Sodom.
The film opens with an elderly lady who, whilst collecting firewood, encounters a mysterious stranger who hands her a red rose. She carries the flower back to her town, and shortly after, the entire population is infected with the Red Death, causing the cruel Prince Prospero (Vincent Price) to abduct a young peasant girl from the village, Francesca (Jane Asher) and induct her into his mysteries and corrupt her innocence in the name of the Devil. He thus gathers the rich and noble from across the country, throwing a huge party in which they indulge their passions, whilst, meanwhile, the plague rages through the countryside and the poor die from ‘sharp pains, and sudden dizziness, and then profuse bleeding at the pores.’
It is not emphasised as much as I feel it should be, but throughout the film, under the tutelage of Prospero, we see Francesca become more and more adjusted to pain and cruelty. Back and forth, Prospero and his new student discuss the problem of evil in a cursory manner, and Prospero attempts to make her understand how he has arrived at his Satanic beliefs. It is a failing of the film that there is not more of this, that these discussions are not longer, for it is clear that Prospero lusts after the young girl, but it also seems like he genuinely cares for her—especially during the film’s final act when he is confronted with the visage of the Red Death itself. A lot of this is Vincent Price’s perfect performance, and I feel that, as an actor, he makes Prospero more relatable and human than either Corman or screenwriters, Charles Beaumont and R. Wright Campbell had much consideration for.
If anything, this story is crying out for a continuation; having witnessed cruelty and pestilence, what becomes of Francesca, what are her beliefs now in light of all she has known? It saddens me that no one has written this.
Based on the Edgar Allan Poe story of the same name, the tale has gone on to make its presence known throughout pop culture, though, in the setting of the story, there is the faintest suggestion that perhaps Poe was influenced by de Sade’s 120 Days of Sodom.
The film opens with an elderly lady who, whilst collecting firewood, encounters a mysterious stranger who hands her a red rose. She carries the flower back to her town, and shortly after, the entire population is infected with the Red Death, causing the cruel Prince Prospero (Vincent Price) to abduct a young peasant girl from the village, Francesca (Jane Asher) and induct her into his mysteries and corrupt her innocence in the name of the Devil. He thus gathers the rich and noble from across the country, throwing a huge party in which they indulge their passions, whilst, meanwhile, the plague rages through the countryside and the poor die from ‘sharp pains, and sudden dizziness, and then profuse bleeding at the pores.’
It is not emphasised as much as I feel it should be, but throughout the film, under the tutelage of Prospero, we see Francesca become more and more adjusted to pain and cruelty. Back and forth, Prospero and his new student discuss the problem of evil in a cursory manner, and Prospero attempts to make her understand how he has arrived at his Satanic beliefs. It is a failing of the film that there is not more of this, that these discussions are not longer, for it is clear that Prospero lusts after the young girl, but it also seems like he genuinely cares for her—especially during the film’s final act when he is confronted with the visage of the Red Death itself. A lot of this is Vincent Price’s perfect performance, and I feel that, as an actor, he makes Prospero more relatable and human than either Corman or screenwriters, Charles Beaumont and R. Wright Campbell had much consideration for.
If anything, this story is crying out for a continuation; having witnessed cruelty and pestilence, what becomes of Francesca, what are her beliefs now in light of all she has known? It saddens me that no one has written this.
