You are not wrong, you are not a bad person, and you are not uninformed if you operate under the assumption that Lovecraftmania is the product of the twenty-first century. It is without question that Howard Phillips Lovecraft (1890-1937) is more popular now, decades after his demise due to stomach cancer, than he ever was during his brief life. One cannot sneeze (better not be OMICRON, anon!) without hitting something Lovecraft-related, whether it be video games, board games, movies, television shows, YouTube channels, or music. Lovecraft is the biggest name in haunting, weird fiction, and it looks like his imperium may last for many years more, especially now, in the age of woke, there is money to be made by casting Lovecraft himself as the racist monstrosity.
Popular attraction to Lovecraft did not begin post-2001, though. For a brief period, roughly between 1960 and 1970, interest in the Weird Tales author began to percolate. A psychedelic rock band took the author’s name as their own, and in the late 1960s cut some strange records named after Lovecraft’s short stories. The mighty Black Sabbath released the Lovecraft-inspired “Behind the Wall of Sleep” on their debut album in 1970. That same year, American International Pictures, the premiere purveyors of silver screen pulp who produced such gems as I Was a Teenage Werewolf (1957), released The Dunwich Horror starring Dean Stockwell as the wizard Wilbur Whateley. The Dunwich Horror is often considered the first Lovecraft film, and as such represents the end result of years of hard work by Lovecraft’s former friends like Donald Wandrei and August Derleth, who kept the author’s legacy alive and his words in print for so many years.
The Dunwich Horror is the first major picture that is EXPLICITLY based on one of Lovecraft’s stories. However, there is another Lovecraft film, also produced and released by American International, that predates The Dunwich Horror by seven years. Directed by the brilliant Roger Corman, 1963’s The Haunted Palace was sold to American audiences as another addition to Corman’s successful string of Edgar Allan Poe films. Indeed, the film’s title is lifted from the poem quoted in Poe’s “The Fall of the House of Usher.” This is where the Poe connections begin and end, for The Haunted Palace is nothing more than a Gothic reimagining of Lovecraft’s “The Case of Charles Dexter Ward” with added elements of “The Shadow Over Innsmouth.”
Besides Corman, The Haunted Palace is loaded with heavy hitters. Vincent Price plays Charles Dexter Ward and the 18th century necromancer Joseph Curwen. Ward’s wife Ann is portrayed by the lovely Debra Paget, while Curwen’s chief accomplice, Simon Orne, is played by horror icon Lon Chaney, Jr. The supporting cast includes Elisha Cook, Jr., Frank Maxwell, and Leo Gordon as the villagers descended from the original lynching party that burned Curwen alive so many moons before. The screenplay was penned by the brilliant Charles Beaumont, a short story specialist best remembered today for his many exceptional telepays for The Twilight Zone. Overall, The Haunted Palace showcases a film made with love, and it includes all of the lush colors and exquisite camera work that characterized the last gasps of classic Hollywood horror.
The plot dovetails nicely with the Lovecraft original when it comes to the big picture. Ward is an educated and well-to-do man who is possessed by a portrait of Curwen, a New England warlock who cursed his executioners prior to his immolation. As in the original novella, Curwen’s goal is immortality, and he brings back to life Orne and other necromancers to achieve his desires. However, the film separates itself from Lovecraft’s work in many ways. Rather than the real city of Providence, the film is set in the fictional town of Arkham. The Arkham of the film seems better suited for England rather than seaside Massachusetts, as it includes everything from a village pub to a castle. Said castle once belonged to Curwen, and the action begins when Ward arrives in Arkham in order to claim the castle as his inheritance. Ward shows up in town with his bride and promptly receives a frosty reception. This is a far cry from “The Case of Charles Dexter Ward,” where the titular character is a single and lonely NEET ensconced in his family’s mansion. Indeed, Ann Ward is not the only female character in The Haunted Palace; Beaumont and Corman decided to give Curwen a buxom, exotic, and mute helper in Hester Tillinghast (played by Cathie Merchant).
It does not take long to establish that Arkham is living under a dreadful spell. The spell, or rather Curwen’s curse, sees some of the residents of the village rendered disfigured with patches of skin covering their eyes and mouths. Like the “Innsmouth look,” these deformities mark Arkhamites as separate and unclean. Eventually, once Curwen achieves full control over Ward, he uses these individuals to get his much-desired revenge. In one violent scene, Curwen burns a man alive with the help of his ghastly army.
Ward’s possession comes quick and fast, although Ward is not always Curwen and vice versa. The audience can easily tell the difference thanks to Price’s acting and the heavy use of blue-tinted pancake make-up. Most of the film is a build-up to the final five minutes or so. Before that, the focus is primarily on Anna’s suffering in the spooky castle, as well as Ward’s inner struggle. Finally, after Curwen has mastered his great-grandson and raised Hester from the dead, he ties Ann up in the castle’s dungeon and prepares to sacrifice her to a monster that is only shown for a few seconds. Through the bleary-eyed camera lens we see something vaguely reptilian or amphibian, with four arms and claws instead of hands. The Lovecraftian creature ostensibly wants to eat Ann. It is not clear what Curwen’s game is here. Suffice it to say that the film wants us to know that he is up to evil, and that is good enough.
Just as in the 18th century, Curwen’s machinations are interrupted by angry, torch-wielding villagers. These villagers lay waste to the castle, but not all die inside. Among the survivors is something evil. The Haunted Palace includes a rare un-happy ending for an American International film of this time period. I will leave it up to you to figure it out.
The Haunted Palace is a well-directed, well-written, and well-acted film that for some reason or another has mostly been forgotten. Corman receives deserved praise for masterworks like House of Usher (1960, screenplay by Richard Matheson) and The Masque of the Red Death (1964, screenplay co-written by Beaumont), which helped to turn a whole new generation on to Poe. However, unlike Lovecraft, Poe was an institution and a household name by the time The Haunted Palace debuted. Such a reality is obvious given that The Haunted Palace gives Poe top billing and places Lovecraft’s credits below Poe’s and Beaumont’s. Still, The Haunted Palace feels different from the Poe films in terms of its plot. The inclusion of witchcraft, secret rites, and unfathomable monsters marks this film as Lovecraftian and one-of-a-kind for 1963. The Haunted Palace is the film that is largely responsible for making Lovecraft palatable to the mainstream, and for that all of us owe American International hearty cheers and salutes.
Do yourself a big favor and find this film. Watch it. Enjoy it. Savor it.