Director: Craig Ross Jr.

USA - 2000

       

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I’ve never been a big fan of Hammer films. I find the movies to be somewhat slow moving; plodding, to be precise. A bunch of dull monster fodder prancing about, whining about this, that and the other, as the titular creature/vampire/whatever slowly picks them off one-by-one (but never often enough). In the interest of fairness, however, I probably shouldn’t generalize Hammer by my admittedly limited experience. To be quite honest, I could probably count the number of their films I’ve seen on one hand. This confession brings one of my darker secrets to light: I’m really not that familiar with the work of renowned horror icon Christopher Lee.

I know, I know. I should be ashamed of myself. Believe me, I am. What makes matters even worse is the fact that the only reason I picked up this DVD was the measly eight dollar price tag. I mean, eight bucks! Imagine my surprise when I discovered the lousy eight dollars I shelled out was actually for a good movie. I’m sure there’s a rub somewhere (there always is), but so far it feels like I’m getting away with something. Having my cake and eating it too is a rare treat indeed.

The immortal Christopher Lee plays Rasputin, a monk. A mad monk. A mad monk with the power to heal, not unlike Benny Hinn (a more contemporary mad monk). Anyway, after having healed the local barkeep’s wife of a horrible illness, the gracious family throws Rasputin a party. After one or two drinks too many, Rasputin gets fresh with the barkeep’s daughter, much to the dismay of her current boyfriend. The two scuffle, with Rasputin coming out on top after lopping off his attacker’s hand.

Though victorious in battle, Rasputin’s fellow clergymen are not impressed with their colleague’s violent behavior; his drinking and fornicating doesn’t do much to plead his case, either. Rasputin is immediately disbarred (‘cause that’s what happens to naughty monks).

Undaunted, Our Hero decides to try his fortune in the big city; so he loads up the truck and moves to Beverly (or the Russian equivalent). It’s at a local bar (have you figured out yet that the man loves to drink?) where Rasputin meets Sonia (Barbara Shelley), a Lady-in-Waiting to the wife of the Czar. Through some calculated manipulation (along with an uncanny knack for hypnotism), Rasputin soon endears himself to the beautiful aristocrat. He convinces (read: hypnotizes) Sonia into injuring the Czar’s son, Alexei, during an outing. Soon after the nefarious deed, Sonia recommends a certain monk who just so happens to be in town to come to the palace and heal the critically injured heir to the throne. Once accomplished, Rasputin earns an incredible amount of brownie points with the Czar’s wife. As a matter of fact, Rasputin soon finds himself with some great new digs, the title of royal physician, and all the bennies (monetary and otherwise) that come with being on a monarch’s good side.

Never satisfied, it doesn’t take long for the evil monk to become restless, and set his political aspirations just a bit higher; regardless of the grievous repercussions to those around him, the royal family, nor Russia itself.

Despite having enjoyed this film, Rasputin is nonetheless indicative of a standard Hammer film: lavish colors; dopey monster (or monk, in this case) fodder; and a cunning villain who almost effortlessly does as he/she pleases. What makes the movie so enjoyable has little to do with the story (which, in all fairness, is decent).

Instead, the foundation to Rasputin is found in the acting; specifically, Christopher Lee. His interpretation of the mad monk is nothing short of inspired; well worth the price of admission alone. I’ve read that Lee considers this particular role to be the best he was ever offered. I’m in no position to argue this point one way or another, but what I can say is that it is quite obvious that Lee appears to be enjoying himself throughout the film’s entirety. Whenever onscreen (which, fortunately, is quite often), Lee chews the scenery for all it’s worth. From the delivery of lines to simple mannerisms, Christopher Lee demands your rapt attention. For the most part, his fellow thespians are hopelessly lost in his shadow. They live in the world Lee creates, but in the end, it’s still his world.

Uncharacteristically, I have very little to whine about. If nothing else, I was a little disappointed with the scenery. Or lack thereof. Rasputin, like many Hammer films, has the feel of a period piece. Being set in Russia, surrounded by royals, one might expect to be awed by extravagant costumes and eye-popping landscapes. Russia is a beautiful place. I’ve seen pictures, dammit! Sadly, Rasputin doesn’t capitalize on the aesthetics of the countryside.

And the fashion is nothing to write home about either. Granted, one shouldn’t expect much from the peasant scenes (I mean, they’re peasants, for gosh sakes!); but the rich should be flaunting their lives of excess. It’s what the wealthy do, right? If I had two nickels to rub together, no one would ever catch me without my purple polyester suit, matching hat, and flamboyant white plumage poking out the brim, just enough to accentuate the deep violet hue.

Perhaps I’m divulging just a bit too much about myself here. 

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During one of Rasputin’s numerous dance scenes, Christopher Lee has an obvious stunt (er…dance) double. This surprises me, because Mr. Lee strikes me as the type who could really cut a rug. Dracula. Fu Manchu. All of these characters just scream “Boogey-Woogey Man.”

- Rasputin’s impeccable bedside manner, After healing the barkeep’s wife, Our Hero immediately yells: “Open your eyes, woman! You’re cured!” You can’t get pleasantry like that with a simple HMO.

Rasputin’s uncanny allure to women. It must have something to with his technique; like smacking them to the floor, stripping them, then having his wicked way. After the deed, that’s when Rasputin bums some greenbacks, ordering the woman du jour to leave the booty (figuratively speaking) on the bed. Casanova? Puh-leeze.

 

 

-- Copyright © 2001 by J. Bannerman

 

 

 

 

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