R.I.P. Diane Clare - farewell to a 'final girl' from the 1960s

Last month, I saw Amicus Productions' Witchcraft for the first time, notable for a decent performance from Lon Chaney Jr. near the end of his career. I was especially pleased to see Diane Clare in it, playing his daughter! Reminding myself of her other films, I looked at her Wikipedia page and discovered that she'd passed away the day before, aged 74.

While she appeared in very British favourites such as Ice Cold In Alex (1958) and Whistle Down The Wind (1961), these were relatively small roles, and her passing only warranted a couple of mentions in newspapers. Nothing lengthy, and not much else online.

Diane Clare (right) and Sylvia Syms in Ice Cold In Alex

But it was always a pleasure to see her name in the credits. I've a fondness for any actor who repeatedly appears in horror films. I'm sure it wasn't always her first choice of roles, tackling fantastic subjects that must have been hard to commit to giving convincing performances, in outlandish situations. She always brightens up her films, and I'd like to commemorate here her few roles when she was, briefly, a scream queen, often the last woman standing among the victims...

The Plague of the Zombies (1966) is her biggest role in an acclaimed horror film. The leading lady in a Hammer horror, recently restored and released on blu-ray, this is the one she's best known for. Threatened by rampant huntsmen, a murderous sorcerer and the living dead...

No stranger to sacrificial altars, she'd previously been on the wrong side of black magic in Amicus horror Witchcraft (1964) and was later staked out (again) in the desert in The Hand of Night (1966).

With Jack Hedley in Witchcraft

Another leading role was in an unconvincing monster movie - her last horror film - The Vulture (1967), where a series of killings appear to be committed by a huge bird.

The Vulture

When she appeared in more famous films, she inevitably had smaller roles. But there she is, with a Boston accent in Robert Wise's classic ghost story The Haunting (1963) - which probably led to all her British horror roles. She can also be glimpsed in the black comedy The Wrong Box - another film for director Bryan Forbes (after Whistle Down The Wind).

As the Sunday school teacher in Whistle Down The Wind

Of her television appearances, I must mention that she can briefly be seen in the Diana Rigg era of The Avengers, in the episode 'Death At Bargain Prices' (1965).

As Chantel in The Hand of Night

The Hand of Night has been cited as her last film, but this is a quirk of IMDB relying on its own information, where movies have been dated by their cinema release dates. While it first appeared in the US in 1968 (as The Beast of Morocco), it was made in 1966. As Chantel she has a forceful role, trying to save Paul Carver (William Sylvester) from suicidal thoughts as he veers into personal darkness after the death of his young family. In the story she symbolises light and life, but succeeds at playing a realistic and rounded character, which she remembered as one of her best.

She then gave up acting to raise a family, marrying writer Barry England. Some of his work was adapted for movies - a novel as Figures on a Landscape (1970) and a play became Conduct Unbecoming (1975).

The best article about Diane is by Mark A. Miller in issue 10 of Monsters From The Vault, published in 2000. At 13 pages long, it's a fitting biography of her busy decade of film work and a document of her memories of that time.

Of course, I'm very sorry that she's left us so soon.




More about The Hand of Night (1966), still not on DVD, here.

John Belushi - resting in peace

 

While we were visiting Martha's Vineyard last month, we learnt that John Belushi was buried on the island. Couldn't just pass him by and not pay our respects...

The cemetery on Abel Hill has no signpost, but if you head along South Road going through Chilmark, you'll see the cemetery next to the road. As you turn off into the car park, John's memorial is right next to it. A poignant, unfussy reminder of a comic genius who left us nearly thirty years ago.

The traditional headstone (placed there by his family) faces a larger, simpler, shapeless memorial stone chosen by his wife from a beach on the island. But apparently he's not actually laid to rest at this exact spot, but at an unmarked location elsewhere in the cemetery.

A very sad little visit, in contrast with the lovely location and the sunny day. 

John Barry's soundtracks - atmosphere for outer space

 

My life in space with the music of John Barry

I've regularly listened to John Barry's soundtracks for many years, but when I'd heard he'd died, on January 30th, I stopped listening to his music. The news was a shock, out of the blue. I didn't want to be reminded that there'd be no more of the music I've grown up with. It's taken a few months for me to start again and I just wanted to talk a little about my very favourite of his tracks.

He scored outer space like no-one else. Previous sci-fi movies set in space famously used classical music (2001: A Space Odyssey) or electronic atmospherics (Forbidden Planet), but John Barry's take was more about awe, mystery and trepidation, retaining the danger of humanity living outside the atmosphere.

As long as I can remember going to the cinema, we're talking mid-1960s, I remembered his music. My Mum took me to see a re-release of You Only Live Twice (1967) in 1968. At the start of the story, a US space rocket is followed by another. The surprise of it opening up, then swallowing the other, never left me. The track 'Capsule In Space' describes danger approaching during a space walk. The score accompanies the action perfectly, but also works as a stand-alone piece. The experience in the cinema was enough to put me off space travel, the same way Jaws put me off swimming in the sea.

I was then old enough to see Bond films in the cinema during their first run. I especially loved the exciting music to the ski chases in On Her Majesty's Secret Service (1969). So much so that I'd concentrate on carrying the music away with me in my head. I did this for years until I could afford or find the soundtracks.

I was delighted there was another scene set in space in Diamonds Are Forever(1971), during the launch of a killer satellite. After several stage separations, the beautiful weapon deploys, then begins picking off targets around the world. The tempo of the space march '007 and Counting' matches its graceful motion, alternated with the horrendous power it unleashes.

The theme tune to Diamonds Are Forever really imprinted on me. The impact of Barry's James Bond theme songs were combined in the cinema with the most lavish, widescreen 'pop videos'. Tom Jones, Nancy Sinatra and Shirley Bassey singing top ten hits with huge, naked, pop art visuals by Maurice Binder. The music and the images were also associated with the anticipation of two hours of the most exciting films of the time. For many years after their release, Bond movies weren't seen outside of cinemas, being continually re-released until TV eventually paid huge sums to show them, Dr No (1962) wasn't shown on TV in the UK until 1975. I had the chance to see each one several times in the cinema - the music was part of the attraction of seeing them again.

The soundtracks never stayed in circulation on vinyl for very long. If you were lucky, they'd maybe appear when a new format, like music cassettes, were introduced. The search for the albums missing from my paltry collection kept me hunting through record shops looking for secondhand records or cassettes. For many years, this James Bond Collection double-album (above) was the only Bond music to be reissued. A life-saving compilation of cues from the original soundtracks, at a time when there were dozens of weedy soundalike albums. Geoff Love cover versions weren't a sufficient alternative to the real deal.

I'd even record my favourite sections off the TV, when no soundtrack was available. I waited decades for many missing cues to finally appear when the expanded James Bond soundtracks were released in 2003.

But meanwhile, John Barry made more space music. After Star Wars (1977)became a big box office hit, he composed for three more outer space movies, around 1979. But he remained true to his earlier approach of danger and mystery.

Moonraker put James Bond in his very own Space Shuttle. 'Flight Into Space' describes the tension of the launch in the familiar march motif. Again Barry describes the wonder of being in space and the surprises revealed out there.

Another track 'Space Lazer Battle' anticipated some of the aural effects he'd use in The Black Hole. The scene of astronauts fighting in zero gravity is far more convincingly done than the one in The Green Slime. While Moonraker is far from the best Bond movie, I've enjoyed the soundtrack literally hundred of times.

The main title to The Black Hole (1979) makes it sound almost like a sea-going adventure. Again there's a foreboding tone accenting the hazards, particularly from the black hole itself. This time, the whole album accompanies deep space. Barry's music has to carry the entire climax of the film with the track 'Into The Hole', using increasingly mysterioso effects.

Lastly, I'll even mention Starcrash (1978). John Barry sometimes scored movies he later regretted. It may be embarrassingly (though enjoyably) awful, but tracks like 'Launch Adrift' are particularly beautiful. While the album isn't as consistent as the other two, it's still John Barry in his prime.

Among his many soundtracks, I notice a few tracks that seem out of step with the rest of the score - otherworldly moments reminding me of his 'space music'. In Beat Girl (1960) the track '2000 AD', in Midnight Cowboy (1969) there's 'Science Fiction'. In the superb score to King Kong (1976), the haunting 'Full Moon Domain'. And in Dances With Wolves (1990), 'Stands With A Fist remembers'.

Barry's last non-soundtrack albums The Beyondness of Things (1999) and Eternal Echoes (2001) continued with echoes of the lost 'wild' west from Dances With Wolves. In both, there's a sense that he's summing up his life and saying farewell. But I had no idea that it was going to be so soon.

Of course there's much more to his music, and no matter what you think of the movies, here are my favourite John Barry soundtracks to recommend to you:

Some exceptional James Bond soundtracks I haven't mentioned, From Russia with Love (1963), Goldfinger (1964), Thunderball (1965) and The Living Daylights (1987). They set high standards for how to make action even more exciting.

  

The Ipcress File (1965) accompanied the low-key flipside of spying in the Cold War. This soundtrack propelled Barry into the A-list of soundtrack composers.

Deadfall (1968) woke me up to his being superb music, not just a backing track. The fourteen minute 'Romance for Guitar and Orchestra' at the heart of Deadfall is one of Barry's greatest achievements. Working with director Bryan Forbes, the track had to be woven into the film, being performed in front of the camera, as well as scoring the action of the robbery scene that intercuts with the concert hall footage.

Alice's Adventures In Wonderland (1972) is a rare musical from Barry. With songs as beautiful as they are strange.

King Kong (1976) is one of his very best scores, again to be enjoyed many more times than the movie.

My playlists of his music are made up of my very favourite tracks, cherry-picked from his albums. In all, they're still over 14 hours long. Some of it represents forty years of listening... and counting.

R.I.P. John Barry (1933 - 2011)

Really wasn't expecting to have to say goodbye to John Barry so soon. He composed some of the most beautiful and the most exciting movie music I've ever heard, first impressing with me with his extraordinary scores for the Bond films I saw as a child in the sixties. There are more of his albums than any other artist in my collection, soundtracks or otherwise.

I'd like to spend some time and care preparing a proper tribute. But for now I need a little time to mourn the man who wrote the background music to The Black Hole.