The Creeping Flesh (1973)

directed by Freddie Francis

UK

94 minutes

3.5 stars out of 5

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I initially opened this review by saying something about how I usually have trouble reviewing Hammer horror movies because even though I like them they're just not that deep, but then I realized that this wasn't a Hammer movie. Well, it certainly has vibes like one. In any case, I rewatched The Creeping Flesh last night, and I found enough in it that I want to get some thoughts down. I'm going to be a bit negative in this review, which I feel okay about doing because I like this movie a lot.

The backbone of the plot is that a scientist, Emmanuel (Peter Cushing), believes that evil is a physical force that can be isolated and visually observed like any other part of the human body, and that a weird skeleton he found on an island somewhere is the key to unlocking this physical component of evil and, therefore, inoculating against it. He has personal investment in this idea because his wife - who dies early on in the film - had some form of mental illness which he fears she may have passed down to their daughter. Unfortunately for everyone involved, the skeleton has the annoying habit of continually trying to re-flesh itself, and must be kept dry at all times, since water has the effect of making it regenerate through vaguely supernatural, under-explained means.

I think we're all adults here and know enough to avoid falling victim to the idea that just because a movie depicts something, that means the movie endorses that thing. But The Creeping Flesh has such incredibly dated and racist ideas that it's hard to tell if said ideas come from 1973 or the late 1890s, when the film was set. I do tend to give it a little leeway because it feels so genuinely like the latter; the theories it presents about mental illness, women's propriety, and racial superiority/inferiority are so thoroughly entrenched in 19th-century eugenics that at times it feels like the film cannot but be attempting to cement itself inside the era during which it is set. It does add an air of authenticity that the narrative does not attempt to question these things, kind of like how The VVitch manages to be scary and intense specifically because it doesn't seek to subvert the idea that some accused witches weren't innocent.

But it also sucks.

We're shown a montage of Emmanuel's wife Marguerite "going insane", and what the movie defines as "going insane" is "being a slut". Having an affair with multiple other men while you're married is immoral, yes, but not insane. While Marguerite is in an asylum. eventually to die there, Emmanuel keeps the truth of her situation from his daughter Penelope, sheltering her into an immature naivete that ultimately backfires because by keeping Penelope from finding out she may have a hereditary mental illness she is also kept from, you know, tools and support that she may need to cope with said mental illness, giving her essentially no choice but to spiral down into self-destructive behaviors with no way to help herself. Her turn to insanity is, of course, also marked by slutty behavior and seeking casual sex - the perennial middle-aged man's worst nightmare of what could befall his precious daughter.

The issues with race need hardly to be addressed because the film itself lays them so bare in its synopsis: when you read that there's a skeleton of a "primitive man" brought back from New Guinea and supposed to hold mysterious secrets unknown to modern science, you know it's gonna get a little gross. Again, though, things were different 52 years ago than they were 130 years ago, and I want to give this movie the benefit of the doubt by assuming that it knows how gross it sounds when it talks about how "primitive" New Guineans will reach "a level of scientific sophistication that rivals ours" given 2,000 years' time.

Let's move on to the characters, because I think this is where the movie becomes really interesting. The wonderfully annoying thing about this (I say "wonderful" because I like when a movie makes you question where your sympathies should lie, even if this is unintentionally done) is that Emmanuel is framed as essentially blameless and victimized at the end of the film when the brunt of what happens is entirely his fault. Trying to mold his daughter into what he thinks a pure, upstanding woman should be at the cost of her own identity robs her of her freedom. Doing stupid racist science costs many people their lives. And it's only fitting that the film should end on him being confined to a narrow, secluded existence inside a mental asylum by someone who has power over him (his half-brother, played by a particularly Mephistophelean Christopher Lee).

All this and a nasty murderous reanimated skeleton too. The set dressing is unusually beautiful and intricate, and the film is confident enough to have multiple wordless stretches filled out with nothing but messing with various test tubes and beakers, which lends it a kind of artful feel. Lorna Heilbron does a great job as Penelope even if she's playing a laughable and dated idea of "insanity". The horror here is mellow and supplemented by interpersonal tensions and hubris rather than the in-your-face certainty of a vampire going around killing buxom women. It's a movie with a lot of flaws and I really enjoy all of them.