House of a 1,000 Dolls (1968)

I've long been of the opinion that Harry Allan Towers' films all too often flatter to deceive: they frequently offer up a gallery of star names, exotic locations and the promise of action and adventure, but usually fail to deliver on the latter items, instead turning out to be disappointingly flat.  House of a 1,000 Dolls (1968) is no exception, never really delivering on its promise of sleazy and exotic thrills, despite its subject matter of a 'white slavery' ring based at the titular establishment.  All the elements are there: the exotic location, in this case Tangiers, the name cast - Vincent Price, Martha Hyer and George Nader head it up and the bizarre touches - stage magician Price's nightclub act which acts as a front for the kidnapping of women across Europe.  But it never really sparks into life.  The film's fundamental problem is that it never makes good on its implicit promise of sex and sleaze - the ';House of a 1,000 Dolls' itself, the supposedly high class brothel the abducted women are forced to work in, is surprisingly peripheral to much of the action.  

We see next to nothing of the actual activities going on there - there are no orgies, kinky sex or even regular sex on display, just some girls in elaborate lingerie. (Vincent Price was apparently convinced that a pornographic version of these scenes were shot when the main cast were off-set, but if such a version exists, it has never surfaced).  We keep getting told of the terrible punishments which await those girls who try to escape, but the only evidence of these we see is Diane Bond being whipped, (while still wearing her underwear).  Instead, the film settles down to be a pretty conventional mystery thriller as Nader and his wife investigate the murder of their friend who had been on the trail of his wife who had disappeared after being an audience participant in Price's act in Vienna.  With Price and his wife's involvement in the plot being known to the audience from the outset, the main mystery centres on the identity of the 'King of Hearts', the shady figure behind the whole prostitution racket.

Despite ultimately being disappointing in terms of its subject matter, House of a 1,000 Dolls is actually pretty well made, with a slick look and good production values.  During the sixties and early seventies, the majority of Towers films were directed by either Don Sharp, Jesus Franco and Jeremy Summers.  The latter, who took charge of House of a 1,000 Dolls, was probably the most conventional of the three, lacking either Don Sharp's muscular focus on action to drive his films along, or Franco's quirkiness and eye for the bizarre.  Nonetheless, here he makes good use of his Spanish locations (standing in for Tangiers), the sunny tourist-friendly vistas contrasting nicely with the sleazy subject matter and violent goings on.  The action sequences are also well staged, (not surprising, perhaps, bearing in mind the number of episodes of The Saint that Summers had previously directed), making good use of some unusual locations - a chase and fire-bombing in a car scrap yard, for example or a fight staged against the background of rusting steam locomotives and rolling stock awaiting the cutter's torch in a railway yard, not to mention the climactic roof top confrontation between Nader and Price.  Summers also has a good eye an unusual camera angle, with a chase and fight on a staircase being filmed from below, in the stairwell.  

The film's trappings all add a certain frisson to the film, with Price and Hyer's act in a seedy nightclub being a highlight. Also, the kidnap victims being delivered to the brothel inside a coffin in the back of a hearse provides the film with a suitably bizarre and creepy opening.  Unfortunately, these, along with summers' various directorial flourishes, all turn out to be merely window dressing, with the film as a whole never living up to the promise that they hold out to audiences.  As exploitation goes, it is all pretty tame.  Still, while it might be a disappointment, House of the 1,000 Dolls is at least enjoyable to look at while it is on, with the cast doing their best with towers' overly talky script.  Price, in particular, is memorable as Manderville the magician, looking like Dracula in his top hat and cape, as he lurks around the streets of Tangiers and finally tries to flee across the brothel's roof.  Watching it, though, you can't help but feel that it might have been more suitable subject matter for Jesus Franco, something of an expert when it came to films about captive women, who would have guaranteed some sleaze.