The Deadly Bees (1966)

Deciding that, of late, I'd wasted far too much time watching unrewarding contemporary, mainstream films, this past weekend I recreated a double bill of low budgets horror films from the sixties.  The Deadly Bees (1966) and The Vulture (1966) actually did play together on their initial release, with the former topping the bill.  Which isn't surprising as, despite being a relatively low budget production from Amicus, The Deadly Bees had by far the better production values.  Produced in the period before Amicus had settled upon the anthology film as its standard horror format and was still making feature length films in the genre, The Deadly Bees has an impressive pedigree - directed by Freddie Francis and with a script from Robert Bloch, based on H F Heard's 1941 novel 'A Taste for Honey'.  Unfortunately, the finished product is something less than the sum of its parts, due, in no small measure, to the script having been rewritten by Anthony Marriott (at Francis' behest) before filming commenced, removing most of its links to the source novel and the unavailability of the first choice stars: Christopher Lee and Boris Karloff.  What remains from the novel (and Bloch's adaptation) is the central conceit of a pair of rival beekeepers whose mutual animosity becomes deadly when one of them breeds a strain of killer bees that he can direct to attack individuals using pheromones.  The question that the story's heroine must answer is that of which one of the two is the madman?  

In an attempt to more firmly root such an old fashioned story concept in the then contemporary world, the movie opens by throwing the viewer, somewhat jarringly, into the middle of the 'swinging sixties', with an exhausted singer awaiting to make her latest live TV performance, during which we get so a performance from a pre 'Rolling Stones' Ronnie Wood's then band,  'The Birds'.  Finally getting in front of the cameras, the singer -Vicki- collapses of exhaustion live on TV, resulting in her doctor telling her that she needs to rest and packing her off to stay with his friend who lives on 'Seagull Island' (another of those fictional isolated islands off the British coast so beloved of sixties and seventies UK horror films).  The friend turns out to be taciturn, unhappily married beekeeper and farmer Ralph Hargrove.  His shifty behaviour and apparent cruelty to his wife's dog makes Vicki instantly suspicious of him and, in spite of Hargrove's warnings, she strikes up a friendship with his rival, the elderly and apparently kindly Mr Manfred.  Inevitably, a series of bee attacks erupt on the island, with Mrs Hargrove and her dog falling victim, placing more suspicion upon Hargrove.  Obviously, things aren't what they seem (they never are in this sort of film) and everything moves toward an inevitable climax which sees the deadly bees turned against their creator and Vicki has to be rescued as she finds herself trapped in his burning house.

The film's biggest problem, (aside from the fact that the true identity of the bee maniac is blindingly obvious from the outset), is that it takes so long to get anywhere.  The build up to the first bee attack seems interminable and when it comes the special effects are, unsurprisingly considering the budget, less than spectacular, involving superimposed swarming bees and plastic bees stuck on writhing victims' faces.  with too many of the exteriors actually obvious studio sets, Francis never manages to build up much atmosphere and the island setting never convinces.  In terms of style, the TV studio prologue is by far the most notable part of the film, with parts of it shot from Vicki's point of view, with the lumbering TV cameras of the era menacingly zooming toward her and encroaching on her space, in search of close ups, before pulling back to allow another to crowd her from a different angle, like a pack of circling hyenas.  Although the services of the first choice stars, Lee and Karloff, couldn't be secured, the film, nonetheless, boasts a reasonably impressive cast of recognisable British actors, with Frank Finlay portraying Manfred, his performance simultaneously kindly yet slightly creepy and Guy Doleman as Hargrove giving a variation on his miserable officious army-officer-type character he had perfected as Colonel Ross in the 'Harry Palmer' films.  Hammer regular Michael Ripper is the pub landlord, while the likes of James Cossins (another Hammer regular) and Tim Barrett turn up in supporting roles, while the ever lovely Suzanna Leigh stars as Vicki, (who really should have sued that doctor for recommending an island full of weirdos and killer bees as a suitable place for a rest).  

In the end, The Deadly Bees promises more than it can deliver, despite being very professionally made and solidly directed by Francis, it is an undistinguished piece of work which moves at far too slow a pace.  Nothing about it - direction, photography, design, for instance - is particularly outstanding and the cast performances, while perfectly decent, are stymied by a weak script that constantly seems to be setting up narrative threads, but never following through on them.  Vicki's initial breakdown, which brings her to the island, for example, is never built upon - in most films, once established, it would have become a plot point, an excuse for other characters not to believe her suspicions about Hargrove or the bees.  But here, it seems quickly forgotten about, (she doesn't even seem overly traumatised by having to endure yet more emotional travails in the very place she was sent to for recovery).  The Deadly Bees remains a watchable film, but it feels very muted and is ultimately somewhat unengaging.