The Mask (1961)

Not to be confused with the Jim Carrey film of the same name, The Mask (1961) is another of those films that it has taken me years to catch up with after learning of its existence, with TV screenings seemingly rare.  It holds the distinction of being claimed to be Canada's first horror film, not to mention the first Canadian talkie to be marketed extensively in the US.  It's other notable feature was its use of 3-D for its nightmare sequences, (which, obviously, I've only seen in 2-D).  The plot is straightforward, involving an ancient tribal mask that subjects anyone wearing it to terrifying visions which drive them to murder, in order to provide human sacrifices for the pagan religion that created the artifact.  Shot in black and white, its style is reminiscent of the films William Castle was still making in the US: the small cast, the rather bland, slightly minimalist and stage like sets, an often langourous, dream like, feel to even the 'real life' sections.  The performances, likewise, are adequate rather than inspired.  Even the musical cues are reminiscent to those used in Castle's films, particularly those scored by Von Dexter.  Where the film departs from its William Castle format is in the dream sequences.  Indeed, the whole films stands or falls by theses as they constitute its main shock points (and were its key selling point when released).

It has to be said that the nightmare sequences remain impressive, full of unsettling and often quite extraordinary imagery.  They take place against a surreal backdrop of twisted artificial trees, sacrificial altars and robed priests, all presided over by a giant version of the titular mask.  All of the characters involved in these sequences were masks that hide their faces while following their basic outlines.  The only unmasked characters have horrific facial disfigurements, with eyes hanging out and the like.  One particularly memorable nightmare involves one such figure punting the masked protagonist across a sea of mist in a coffin, Charon-like.  Later, a sacrificial victim turns skeletal as she lies on the altar, before a chasm opens up to swallow the protagonist.  The fact that these scenes were designed to be shown in 3-D is evident from the number of things, including the titular mask, that get thrust at the viewer.  Yet they still retain much of their impact when shown 'flat' - they are both disconcerting and disturbing.  The rest of the film that frames them, unfortunately, can't match their intensity.  Indeed, one of the main problems with the 'waking' scenes is that, ultimately, very little that could be described as 'horrifying' takes place in them.  The main protagonist, even under the influence of the mask, fails to murder anyone, his efforts to 'sacrifice' his receptionist being foiled.    Even the climax is, well, anti-climactic, with the protagonist being caught by the police before he can strangle his fiance in a rather tame scene.

As noted before, part of the problem lies with the cast, whose performances seem too subdued for the subject matter - unlike William Castle, whose films it resembles to some degree - The Mask has no Vincent Price to help sell its brand of disturbing surrealism to an audience.  The closest it gets is Paul Stevens as the psychiatrist protagonist who gets mailed the mask by one of his patients, just before they commit suicide, having been driven to madness and murder by its visions.  While not as flamboyant as Price, Stevens nonetheless delivers the best performance of the film, his intensity slipping from idealism to insanity as he falls under the mask's influence.  Just to reinforce the William Castle comparisons, Stevens' obsession with the idea that the mask and its visions could have psychiatric applications are reminiscent of Vincent Price's obsession with the title creature of The Tingler (1959).  Sadly, this sub-plot is never explored any further than being a plot device to justify Stevens' continuing to hold onto the mask rather than give it to the police when he learns of its provenance.  Likewise, his former mentor's attempts to help Stevens by allowing him to use the mask under strictly laboratory conditions also comes to nothing, once again being introduced simply as a plot device.  All of which is a pity, as the film could have benefited from some stronger plot developments.

A curious thing about the film struck me while watching it: while only the dream sequences were shown in 3-D, the rest of the film frequently looks as if it were shot to be shown stereoscopically - the camera is constantly pulling back from characters, so as to frame them in foreground objects such as doorways or stairways.  Overall, The Mask is a curious combination of the inspired and the bland.  For every bizarre element - the unsettling visions and the mask itself, which is well realised by the film's production designers, for instance - there are twice as many underwhelming aspects - the pace, lack of plot development and uninspired sets, for example.  Perhaps this was deliberate, with the blandness of the everyday sequences meant to accentuate the strangeness of the dream sequences, but ultimately it works against the film, somewhat diluting the bizarreness of the supernatural elements.  Nevertheless, it remains worth seeing, for the nightmare sequences if nothing else.  Of late, it has been turning up in NYX's daytime schedules fairly regularly, so it is, at last, accessible for viewing.