And Now The Screaming Starts (1973)

The cynic in me can't help but suspect that this rare outing into a full-length horror feature by Amicus was conceived, primarily, to re-use that crawling severed hand prop from their earlier anthology film Dr Terror's House of Horrors (1965).  Because it is clearly the same prop - actually surprisingly effective when see crawling across the floor - and was undoubtedly expensive to construct.  It is certainly just about the only effective and memorable element in the over-cooked Gothic melodrama that is And Now the Screaming Starts (1973).  Despite an excellent cast, headed up by Peter Cushing, Herbert Lom and Patrick Magee, supported by Ian Ogilvy and Stephanie Beacham, (who, in truth, carry much of the film's action, the big name stars playing, essentially, extended cameos), it never manages to conjure up any real scares, its over elaborate and not terribly original revenge-from-beyond-the-grave plot restricting its scope and bogging down the action.  Director Roy Ward Baker, who turned out better horror films for both Hammer and Amicus, does his best, lending the film some good atmosphere and eliciting a good performance from Cushing, but, in the end, just can't make any headway.

Perhaps its most novel aspect is the presence of a ghostly rapist that impregnates Beacham and is the spitting image of shady local woodsman Silas, (both played by Geoffrey Whitehead, who was then known for Z-Cars, but is nowadays more familiar to TV audiences for playing people's fathers in sitcoms).  The whole schtick of the severed hand, (which belongs to the spectral sex offender), turning up to strangle various characters before they can divulge the plot's 'big secret', then vanishing, gets very old, very quickly.  The film eventually plods to its inevitable and well telegraphed ending, leaving you with the vague feeling that you've probably just wasted ninety minutes of your life watching it.  Ironically, while many of the episodes in Amicus' usual anthology films felt hurried and under developed, And Now the Screaming Starts feels like an over-extended episode from one of those productions.  Based  on a novella (David Case's Fengriffin), it just doesn't have enough plot for a feature and too much of its content feels like padding.  In truth, virtually all of Amicus' attempts at full-length features are unsatisfactory.  Co-owner Milton Subotsky was the company's main creative force and he had something of an obsession with reducing scripts to their bare bones, seemingly disliking too many dialogue scenes and eschewing normal narrative development for a series of jolting shock sequences leading to a 'surprise' ending.  Consequently, features like the Vincent Price vehicle Madhouse (1974) and the Christopher Lee Jeckyl/Hyde variant I, Monster (1970), were rendered near incoherent.  Of their horror features, only Scream and Scream Again (1969) - over which co-producers AIP maintained creative control - and The Skull (1965), the last half of which was restructured in the editing room by director Freddie Francis, really stand out.  Only the anthology films really suited Subotsky's favoured style and these remain Amicus' most satisfactory and watchable films.