Confessions of an Opium Eater (1962)

Confessions of an Opium Eater (1962) is part of that sub-genre of exploitation films that seeks to legitimise its sensational content and presentation by virtue of the fact that it is derived from a literary classic, which, of course, makes all the sex and violence justified on artistic grounds.  In reality the film, the product of seasoned exploitation director/producer Albert Zugsmith has only a tenuous relationship with Thomas de Quincy's 'Confessions of an English Opium Eater', its supposed source.  In truth, it is only inspired by the book, presenting its hero as a descendant of the Thomas de Quincy, who embarks on a crusade against Chinese white slave traders in early twentieth century San Francisco, finding himself in the middle of a Tong war in the process.  Not surprisingly, as it was made for Allied Artists, Confessions of an Opium Eater was clearly made on a tight budget, with most of the action being confined to a series of cramped-looking back lot sets.  Even the exteriors representing Chinatown appear to be a lightly redressed western town main street.  The only exception comes at the film's opening, which features extensive exteriors, firstly at sea on a couple of boats, then on a beach.

But the cheap sets, along with the gritty black and white photography, contribute to the generally surreal atmosphere of the whole film, which quickly becomes dream like once the main character enters the interiors of Chinatown.  The casting of Vincent Price in the lead, playing the closest he ever got to being an action hero, adds to the sense of weirdness, as do the proliferating anachronisms, (despite being set in 1902, one character wields a Tommy gun, which didn't appear until 1918, while a motor car of similar vintage to the gun also turns up in the beach scenes).  The film finally topples over into full surrealism with a lengthy opium trip sequence which culminates in Price running around in silence and slow motion.  Even the finale - which features Price and a Chinese woman being swept away in an underground sewer - defies convention.  Along the way there's plenty of violence, torture, murder and threats of sexual violence which, along with the drug use, adds up to a pretty sleazy, but bizarrely entertaining package.  In a way, Confessions of an Opium Eater reflects the schizophrenic nature of its studio, Allied Artists (formerly Monogram), which kept striving for artistic legitimacy with bigger budgeted films with 'name' stars and directors, yet couldn't resist the allure of its poverty row origins, continually turning out low budget exploitation movies on the side.  Thankfully, in the case of Confessions of an Opium Eater, its trashy side won out.