“The Abominable Doctor Phibes”

From his first great film role in Dragonwyck, it was clear that Vincent Price was destined to do great things. And he personally did — no doubt about that — but the things he starred in themselves… now, there wear mixed bags. A lot of those mixed bags are nonetheless enjoyable watches, and a high number of them find their way online in copyright-shady-but-undeniably-convenient circumstances. 

Thus, when I stumbled upon (didn't take long for me to use that word again) The Abominable Doctor Phibes among the YouTube Algorithm's suggested videos, I decided to give it a watch, assuming I'd get, at best, another classic in the vein of The Raven and The Comedy of Terror, and, at worst, an hour's offbeat entertainment enjoying Price's performance unironically, and the rest of it ironically. 

Boy, did this take me by surprise. I don't even know whether I actually like it or not in the end — I'm happier for having seen it, I suppose, but I can't tell if that's in a "pharaoh-sized train-crash of weirdness" way or a "this is actually a good movie" way. 

The Abominable Doctor Phibes is a unique movie. Put the early 1970's, the 1920's, The Phantom of the Opera, Edgar Allan Poe and the Biblical Plagues in a blender, and something might come out that possibly has some vague resemblances to Doctor Phibes, but even that doesn't fully describe it. 

The story, such as it is, is that a series of surgeons are being bumped off in grotesque-but-amusing ways, which mirror the Ten Plagues of Egypt (which the film obstinately refers to as the Ten "Curses" of Egypt, for reasons that escape me). Inspector Trout of Scotland Yard investigates, and it surfaces that the ten surgeons all participated in a failed operation on a Mrs Victoria Phibes decades earlier. The inventive murderer is demented organist and theologian Anton Phibes, believed dead, but who in truth survived with horrific injuries. Hell-bent on avenging his wife, Phibes goes through nine Plagues, though his last victim manages to escape in the nick of time, then enacts his last crazy booby-trap on himself, entombing and embalming himself with his beloved in a final sequence worthy of Terry Gilliam. 

Now, the main feature of this picture is obviously the character and mythos of Doctor Phibes himself, as played by Vincent Price. He's definitely a very memorable bit of character-writing ; a striking picture of desperate, Poe-like madness and genius. His hatred of medical doctors is well-developped and comes together with the plot in the climax, and there's something very Mask of the Red Death-y about his exquisitely-designed lair and his clockwork creations (of whom the inexplicably-named Vulnavia is the most advanced example). 

Where Phibes’s character fails somewhat is in the attempt that was made to make him a "ghoul" as well as a "character". The way he talks and drinks through his neck is, I suppose, unique, but to me it just felt bizarre. The film in general is very hit-or-miss in its "silly-gruesome" elements. Deciding that the face Phibes wears throughout the film would be a false face, a mask to disguise his skull-like ruin of a visage, is a creative twist on both the Phantom of the Opera and the Invisible Man — but it also deprives Price of much of a chance to work his usual magic. His body language is on-point, and the slight variations he puts in Phibes’s face manage to be extremely funny at times (such as the disapproving look he shoots to one of his victims when the decor in his house makes it clear he was rather a bon viveur)… but for most of the film, Phibes is a stiff, lumbering figure. 

Hope you like Vincent's ‘miserable’ face, it's basically all you

get for most of the film. 

The same goes for Phibes's voice, made distorted and monotone through its artificial nature. Its stilted, Dalek-y rhythm makes perfect sense for the story, and it is in itself well-done, but if you won't allow Price to act Price-y, please let him speak Price-y… no? No? Really? 

All of this serves the character well — Phibes is terribly injured, both mentally and physically, and putting on a pretense of life for as long as he takes till his wife is avenged in his eye; he should look miserable and in pain and barely alive — but it greatly lessens how much Price can carry the feature on the back of his acting chops, as I initially assumed he would. 

(By the by, I'm not entirely sure what's up with the way Price doesn't even try to look like he's actually playing the organ, and the Clockwork Musicians’ repetitive motions do not in any way match the supposed music. Intentional kitsch? Actual production goofs? Or is the idea that he's just playing records with the pretense that he and his musicians are the source of the tune? Honestly couldn't tell.)

The rest of the cast, fortunately, is pretty wonderful as well. Peter Jeffrey delivers an extremely likable hero in the person of Inspector Trout, and of course, you have Joseph Cotten as Doctor Vesalius, the final doctor on Phibes's list, forced to operate on his son under stress to save both their lives. Out of all the Doctors, counselors on Trout's investigation, and assorted supporting cast, I don't think there's one clearly bad performance. Virginia North as Vulnavia also does the trick of looking silent, beautiful, and eerie, while also bringing a bit of character to the role in the scenes where she sulks about her boss and creator's lair, giving strange looks to Phibes's other, less advanced puppets. 

Also inherent to the movie's identity is the oddball medley of songs played by the Clockwork Musicians in Phibes's lair, and the rest of the soundtrack. (Sealing how entertaining this movie's music manages to be is the ever-wonderful Paul Frees's brief cameo, bringing on the same cartoony-crooner voice he used in Symposium on Popular Songs.)

In conclusion, one leaves The Abominable Doctor Phibes questioning one's sanity — with the clear sense of having watched a well-crafted bit of entertainment, but at a loss as to how the various bizarre elements of it ever fit together in a coherent picture. (One also leaves it with nagging curiosity as to the Tenth Plague and what is up with the symbols on Phibes's coffins — a sequel-hook that would be all but dropped when the actual sequel was released. Boy, was the sequel weird… but we'll get to that later.)

Oh, and —

A post-scriptum:

What is up with the oft-reproduced poster for this? 

• Why use Phibes's skull-appearance? It's not a bad ideain theory but the make-up is… it's what it is… and besides, the real face of the Abominable Doctor is a twist, saved for the very last confrontation between him and Dr. Vesalius. No sense in wasting it here. 

• If the woman is Victoria Phibes, well, she's surprisingly lively-looking for a woman who died decades before the film started, and Caroline Munro has no business sharing the poster with Price when she only ever appears as photographs and a corpse. If she is instead Vulaniava, then why the heck is Phibes kissing Vulnavia? 

• The tagline is just as puzzling. Phibes isn't trying to be with Victoria in his deformed state at all — indeed, he only became this way shortly after she died. No "monster romance" going on here. One gets the feeling that whoever did the poster was trying to get Phantom of the Opera enthusiasts on-board. 

• By Jove, aren't those colors the most 1970's thing ever devised. Booh. That font, also. 

• Hugh Griffith might have been the bigger name, but he's a rather minor character in the film — an exposition-dumping Rabbi who drops in and out as demanded by the plot. It boggles the mind that he and Terry-Thomas are credited, yet the film's actual protagonist, Peter Jeffrey (Trout), is left out.