Review by Karolina Gruschka
Writing this review could turn out to be a deadly endeavour. That said, I hast nay bad w’rd to utt’r against the great Edward Kendal Sheridan Lionheart, n’r against this delightful movie!
Theatre of Blood is about an ambitious and hard working actor who has dedicated 30 years of his life to perfecting his performance of Shakespearean characters. To his misfortune there exists this little inner circle of renowned theater critics, led by Peregrine Devlin, who seem to be fixated on slating his efforts. Lionheart is overacting, lacking range and originality and is stuck in the past, so they write. The circle’s systematic humiliation culminates in their refusal to bestow him with the Critic’s Circle Award for Best Actor, at the height of his career; instead, the award goes to William Woodstock, a “twitching, mumbling boy who can barely grunt his way through an incomprehensible performance” (in Lionheart’s words). This is the final trigger that drives Lionheart into suicide, taking the award with him to the depths of the Thames.
However, he survives the jump and rises from the filthy waters to lead a group of vagabonds who are willing to do anything for some meths. For the next two years they call an abandoned theatre their home and, despite still not giving up on Shakespeare, Lionheart starts slowly to develop a rather postmodern approach to the playwright’s works and to theatre in general. With the aid of his loyal daughter Edwina and his highly physical as well as performative droogs, Lionheart, who is still believed to be dead, resurfaces from his rat kingdom to perform artistic revenge. One by one he “punishes” each critic who destroyed his career (and potentially that of many other actors/actresses) by means of re-imagining scenes from Shakespearean plays that he performed during his best season. Now, people who are familiar with William S. know that he does indeed like a bit of ultraviolence.
Living Theatre
The 1960s and 1970s saw a flourishing of alternative, performance based art forms, such as physical theatre, fluxus and happenings. Those kind of live events were closely linked to the spirit and poltical activism of its time; traditional canons were uprooted, giving way to a state of anarchy and provocation. Creative expression, experiment, improvisation, collaboration, participation and real experiences became common modes within the performative arts, suturing the divide between high art and popular entertainment as well as art and life. The duo Gilbert and George seem to have succeeded at blurring those lines; since the late 1960s they have stayed in ‘character’ as living sculptures claiming their complete lives as art. Ultimately, this manner of constructing artistic events, also bled into other art forms, such as theater. The Living Theater (a US company originally founded in the late 1940s and still existing) forms an example of a troupe that live together and collectively create as well as unconventionally stage poetic plays which carry an anarchist message and break down the ‘fourth wall’ between spectators and performers. In times like those, can we really blame the critic circle in Theater of Blood for dismissing Lionheart’s work as old-fashioned?
“All the world’s a stage, And all the men and women merely players”
Surprisingly, Lionheart’s great but mad investment in old-worldly Shakespearean plays fits in with the postmodern spirit of his time; still, the critics chose to laugh it off, rather than to see the genius behind it. In similar manner to Gilbert and George there exists no clear distinction between Lionheart’s ‘real’ and artistic persona – he is living theatre. However, where postmodern theatre from the 1960s and 1970s had a rather romantic idealist and pacifist vibe to it, Lionheart’s message is that of destruction. He proceeds by exploiting the weaknesses and vices of his ‘victims’ to lure them into a trap; Trevor Dickman, for instance, has a thing for young women, Meredith Merridew loves his food, Chloe Moon is focused on her looks and Solomon Psaltry is a very jealous man. Making use of various locations, like his theater, the victims house or a hair salon, Lionheart stages scenes from Shakespearean plays in a semi-improvisational manner, also involving the participation of the, yet unknowing, victim. For this purpose, he adapts, rewrites and sometimes modernises Shakespeare to suit his creative needs; for example, he takes on the role of a hipster hairdresser for a scene from Henry VI or that of a famous TV cook for Titus Andronicus. Finally, Lionheart relives his trauma by confronting the critics with their wrongdoings and ceremonially turns his humiliation into violent delight over the moment of panic stricken recognition on their faces and their suffering.
The Doggy-Woggy Boiler
So, in the end, Lionheart has done what the critics asked of him, yet, still in his dying hour, Devlin decides to mock him. Maybe, after all, the circle of critics had not been fair on Lionheart and, all along, out for smelling some blood. I sense that the reason they attacked Lionheart so vehemently might be to do with his age and career stage; he seems to threaten the critics’ perfect little upper middle class lives by reminding them of their own autumn of career and life. Theatre of Blood is a black comedy, which, with the right balance of gruesome horror and comic relief (in great Grand Guignol manner), enacts revenge against critics. In this movie they are being stereotyped as “pompous, narcissistic, self-serving assholes” (David Del Valle mentions this in the special features), who, despite being talentless themselves, are the makers or breakers of artists’ careers. The critics are caricatures of themselves, highlighted even further by their descriptive and funny names, such as jolly Mr. Merridew, short and effeminated Mr. Sprout, or Mr. Dickman who is a bit of a dick.
Ironically, Theatre of Blood received great reviews; yet, would a reviewer dare to criticise this film? S/he would only prove to be THAT kind of critic who is laughed at in the movie. Vincent Price, too, experienced criticism for overacting (his gestures, his famous eyebrow), and was at times underrated, potentially because of his prolific body of work and his later frequent appearance in the horror genre. According to the film historian Del Valle, Price found it quite hurtful, but carried enough optimism and love of life to let it go. Theatre of Blood gave Vincent Price the opportuninty to take his own little revenge. What is more, it gave him the chance to ‘do’ theatre, which he enjoyed, yet usually did not have the time for during his career. And, of course, Theater of Blood is the set where he met his third wife, Coral Browne (Miss Moon in the movie).
Theater of Blood (1973) was released by Arrow 19th May 2014 on Blu-ray. The image is great, however, the sound in regards to speech leaves a lot to be desired; I had to turn the English subtitles on to fully get the dialogue (but then again, I am not a native speaker and don’t have the best hearing). Nonetheless, this is a disc that should not be missing from any Blu-ray collection! The following special features are included on the disc: the original trailer, an interview with Michael J. Lewis (the composer of the Soundtrack), an interview with Madeline Smith (plays Rosemary), an interview with film historian David Del Valle, an interview with Victoria Price (Vincent Price’s daughter) and an audio commentary by The League of Gentlemen.
Theatre of Blood is available now on Blu-Ray from Arrow Video.