El coleccionista de cadáveres

There are a few things that do save Cauldron of Blood from total doom. The scenery is very picturesque then again this is Spain we're talking about, the animated title sequence is brilliant and the best scene of the film easily(sadly also one that deserved a much better film), Boris Karloff's presence is still magnetic despite his health and Viveca Lindfors is wonderfully nasty and in a rather scary way. In the acting stakes though Karloff and Lindfors are the only ones that come off as remotely well. Jean-Pierre Aumont looks thoroughly disengaged and as though he didn't want to be there, and others like Rosenda Monteros and Ruben Rojo over-compensate wildly and painfully. Cauldron of Blood is devoid of tension, suspense and chills, mainly because of how cheaply rendered the atmosphere is and also because of the appallingly cornball script- if you get any chills it will be from this component alone, the writing really is that bad- and how much the weirdly constructed story drags, to the extent that the only feeling you get from watching Cauldron of Blood is boredom. The pacing is erratic, on the ponderous side rather than rushed mostly, and the ending is anti-climatic and poorly resolved. Apart from the scenery and animated sequence, Cauldron of Blood is not a well-made film at all, the effects are hokey and the camera work is as erratic as the pacing but worst of all is the editing which is all-over-the-place, slow and choppy in feel and look and it was clear that the making of the film was spread out over a few years which seriously affects the continuity. The music is more strident and over-bearing than stylish and atmospheric. So overall, not Karloff's worst film, it's much better than those wretched Mexican films he made in a similar time frame to this( especially Fear Chamber, though one of them- The Incredible Invasion- made for one of the worst final films of any actor), but it is far from one of his best. If we were to just exclude the Mexican films for a brief second, Cauldron of Blood is still down there with The Invisible Menace and Voodoo Island as one of his weakest. A very generous 4/10. Bethany Cox

Producer Robert D Weinbach originally wanted Claude Rains for the role of Badulescu, but due to Rains's illness, he was replaced by Karloff. Originally titled Blind Man's Bluff, the film was shot in and around Madrid. Filming began in Februrary 1967 and lasted almost three months. Karloff was in ill health himself, but never wanted to give up acting and worked in his craft until he died in 1968. Karloff worked hard as a laborer and even a truck driver between acting roles when he was first starting out in Canada and knew what it was to miss a few meals. Karloff made this film a classic and it will be viewed and talked about from generation to generation whether we like it or NOT!

A woman turning into an animated skeleton, a title constructed from bones, credits written in a 'dripping blood' typeface, a cauldron bubbling with dry ice, and a skull lit with garish colours: the schlocky ingredients that make up the opening credits set the tone for this trashy, somewhat psychedelic 70s euro-horror starring an aged Boris Karloff in one of his last screen roles.

Karloff plays blind sculptor Franz Badulescu, who creates his masterpieces—3D representations of figures from old masters—using real skeletons as armatures, unaware that the bones come from the unfortunate victims of his wicked wife Tania (Viveca Lindfors) and her murderous lover Pablo. French journalist Claude Marchand (Jean-Pierre Aumont) is in town to interview Badulescu for a magazine; when his girlfriend Valerie stumbles upon the body of Pablo's latest victim and she is abducted, he must rush to her rescue before she too is stripped of her flesh in Tania's acid-filled cauldron.

I'm going to go against popular opinion and declare Cauldron of Blood a very enjoyable slice of lurid Euro-nonsense, the cheeze factor so high, and the competence so low that I couldn't fail to have a good time: Lindfors (Aunt Bedelia from Creepshow) makes for a terrific villainess, hamming it up big time. There's a cool, jazzy, brassy score with ridiculously urgent wailing trumpets for the action scenes. Male viewers are treated to some quality eye candy in the form of tasty blonde Elga (Dyanik Zurakowska) and mute housemaid Pilar (Jacqui Speed). The frantic finale is utterly daft yet surprisingly tense, and delivers a nifty bit of gore when Lindfors has her arm plunged into her own acid bath. And for those still left wanting, there's a redundant sub-plot about Claude investing in beach property, plus a few random shots of birds of prey and a big crab for good measure.

6.5 out of 10, rounded up to 7 for IMDb.

In CAULDRON OF BLOOD, a photojournalist (Jean-Pierre Aumont) travels to Spain to cover a story about a famous, blind sculptor (Boris Karloff). The title comes into play as a very gruesome tool, utilized by the artist's sinister sister (Viveca Lindfors).

Filmed toward the end of Mr. Karloff's storied career, his health was in decline, but, all things considered, he puts in a fine performance. Playing a rather vulnerable character, he is unaware of the utter wickedness of his sibling. For her part, Ms. Lindfors is fantastic! She comes across as a sadistic psychopath with a definite flair for fashion.

While a bit disjointed and slow in spots, this movie does have its high points, especially toward the end.

Worth a watch, particularly for fans of Mr. Karloff...

CAULDRON OF BLOOD is, with all it's admitted faults, in reality a very important minor entry in the early stages of the Euro Horror boom years of 1967 to 1975 or so. The film's main draw is Boris Karloff, brought in to play an aged, blind, semi-invalid artist who is unwittingly using the bones of murder victims to create his world famous sculptural works.

The reason why this is important is that Karloff's presence has lent the film a certain populist appeal that has nothing to do with the nature of the production, and indeed his performance is not only the best thing about the movie, but one of his most effective from what was sadly the twilight period of his career. Point being that thanks in part to repeated screenings on local Creature Feature Monster Movie Matinée slots during the 1970s (and of course as a home video rental era staple), a lot of people who might not otherwise be drawn to regional Euro Horror have managed to see it ... even though as most of the comments here reveal, many may have wished that they hadn't.

But the point is still valid: Mention "That movie where Boris Karloff plays the blind guy with goggles and cane who fights over the acid vat" and most fans of grade C minus horror from the 1960s/1970s will know what you are referring to. And of course for Boris Karloff fans it's a must see effort, even though it managed to languish for 3 years between it's filming in 1967 and eventual release in 1970, by which time Karloff had passed away. Further research reveals that the role of the blind sculptor was originally intended for Claude Rains who himself inconveniently kicked the bucket during pre-production, and Karloff was brought in as a replacement. And when you think about it, his casting is somewhat reminiscent of a Spaghetti Western approach, with an A list star of some caliber being brought in to a European genre film to provide that box office kick -- and in this case it worked out like gangbusters, even if the end result is a bit esoteric for many.

The film is essentially a pre-Giallo murder mystery with the requisite overcoat wearing gloved killer, red herrings, spooky overtones of psycho-sexual deviancy, kitschy fashion & pop culture references, offbeat local Spanish colorings, and a parade of supporting players who would later go on to play prominent roles in the Euro Horror cycle: Manuel de Blas, Rubén Rojo, Al Pereira, Milo Quesada, an over the top Viveca Lindfors as a sex crazed bisexual S&M freak, and most importantly Euro Sex Kitten Dyanik Zurakowska, who serves as a perversely unwitting muse to the blind artist's master work. The only member of the cast who genuinely seems out of place is the absurd jet-setting photojournalist/playboy romantic lead embodied by noted French ham actor Jean-Pierre Aumont, who apparently thought he had been cast in the movie's Maurice Chevalier role. The best thing that can be said of his work is that at least he wasn't given a chance to sing.

Shot on an appallingly low budget, oddly paced, seemingly edited by someone on Quaaludes and consisting of a dozen or so loose ends that don't seem to match up, the film doesn't have much in the way of traditional horrors (or story structure) to recommend it, beyond some wonderful Euro horror ambiance and of course the presence of Karloff. Devotees of his classic era work may be saddened to see him reduced to playing a blind old man, but without necessarily intending to the movie emphasizes that by 1967 Karloff was getting old and frail and sick. Is it wrong for a film to reflect that which is true about the people who participate? Boris Karloff lived to make movies, appears to have approached the role with a certain amount of zeal and holds his own quite well, given the circumstances. Other "big names" like Joseph Cotton, James Philbrook and Guy Madison all had their twilight era Euro genre periods, and it's high time that the snobbish Americanized manner of looking down at such work was done away with. These aren't that bad compared to 90% of the horse hockey playing at your local multiplex this weekend.

My attachment to the film is purely nostalgic: I vividly remember the movie scaring the wits out of me as a young chap sneaking in a monster movie instead of doing chores on a Saturday afternoon, and being confused by the Filmation stock music used to flavor the score that I was familiar with from shows like SHAZAM! and the animated "Star Trek" cartoon series from the early 1970s. But I admit it's a wretched movie, with about forty minutes of pretty decent Euro horror broken up by another hour of dreck that most contemporary viewers will have very little use for. Nonetheless it's historically important, actually gets better with multiple viewings as you work out the seemingly disjointed parts, has some great decrepit atmosphere in certain sections, and in the middle an overlooked Boris Karloff role that is better than the movie's detractors -- including his fans -- may lead one to believe.

5/10: By the way, all known versions currently in existence for home video are censored, though those edits may have been pre-release chops done by Franco era Spanish authorities, in which case it's probably an irretrievable loss. Further proof that totalitarianism does indeed suck rather hard.