The British company Amicus (ran by American-born producers Milton Subotsky and Max J. Rosenberg) found a niche with omnibus horror films that started in the mid 1960s with DR. TERROR'S HOUSE OF HORRORS and TORTURE GARDEN. The latter was comprised of stories by author Robert Bloch (“Psycho”), who also supplied the literary source and screenplay for 1971's THE HOUSE THAT DRIPPED BLOOD. By this time, the series had found the look and feel that made them so appealing, and it became a notable drive-in hit in the U.S. and it helped spawn the rediscovered trend of terror-filled “House” movies In the 1970s. Amicus was now churning anthologies out one after the other for a good five years.

“The House” that the exploitive title refers to is a creaky old gothic residence that links four yarns together – all renters face a gloomy fate. All of the previous inhabitants have met death while residing there, as the real estate agent, A.J. Stoker (John Bryans, HENRY VIII AND HIS SIX WIVES), will tell you. While investigating the disappearance of an actor, a Scotland Yard police inspector named Holloway (John Bennett, THE CURSE OF THE WEREWOLF) is told of the aforementioned grisly happenings by a feeble police sergeant (John Malcolm, THE RECKONING). First, in "Method For Murder," a horror novelist (Denholm Elliott, VAULT OF HORROR) believes one of his literary creations, a madman called Dominick (Tom Adams, FATHOM), is alive and well and stalking him in and around the house. Nobody else sees Dominick, who constantly lurks from the shadows and dark corners of the abode, and the writer's young wife (Joanna Dunham, THE GREATEST STORY EVER TOLD) is in harm's way as she is nearly strangled to death. But who is Dominick, and is he real or fictitious?

In "Waxworks" the great Peter Cushing (FRANKENSTEIN AND THE MONSTER FROM HELL) plays a lonely retired bachelor who visits a wax museum and discovers a figure of Salome that resembles an old flame. A friend/rival (Joss Ackland, RASPUTIN THE MAD MONK) comes to visit and since he shared romantic interest in the same woman, he too is lured to the exhibit. The figure is more than it’s cracked up to be, and so is the museum's strange owner (Wolfe Morris, THE ABOMINABLE SNOWMAN), who carries around a medieval hatchet. In "Sweets To The Sweet," the legendary Christopher Lee (THE SATANIC RITES OF DRACULA) plays a stern father who fears his own daughter (genre child actress Chloe Franks in probably her best role), as her late mother had rather supernatural, bewitching habits. The child fears fire, and he won't let her play with dolls or interact with other children. An understanding live-in nanny (Nyree Dawn Porter, FROM BEYOND THE GRAVE) comes to the aid, but black magic has already entered the picture.

The last segment, "The Cloak," is a comic spoof that cleverly and amusingly sends up the genre. Veteran screen actor Paul Henderson (Jon Pertwee, who around the same time was the third TV "Doctor Who" for the BBC) Is tired of playing in horror films below his standard. Fed up with his inadequate wardrobe supplied by the studio, he buys a cloak from an oddball curiosity shop owner named Von Hartmann (Geoffrey Bayldon, FRANKENSTEIN MUST BE DESTROYED) that transforms him into a real vampire when he dons it. Sultry Hammer starlet Ingrid Pitt (THE VAMPIRE LOVERS, COUNTESS DRACULA) plays Carla, a vampire film starlet who has a nasty habit of spawning fangs and flapping about the house, and she initiates Henderson into her nocturnal world (Pitt reportedly turned down the lead in Hammer’s LUST FOR A VAMPIRE to do this film). This segment also brings everything full circle with the wraparound story (when Holloway breaks into the dark cellar holding an oversized candelabra as a torch, only to uncover the undead), and when it's all over, the curse of “The House” lives on.

THE HOUSE THAT DRIPPED BLOOD could be the best of the Amicus anthologies. Its first-time feature director, Peter Duffell, was a stranger to the genre and had been so ever since, but that hardly shows here. The film can be disturbing (the little girl throwing a wax image of her father onto the fire as he screams in agony), sentimental (the retired man strolling happily through the small English town while the strains of classical violin music play in the background), and intense (the tormented writer being haunted as a result of his own imagination). The last segment works great as a spoof, and it seems a wise choice to cast Lee elsewhere in the film. As the stuck-up horror actor, Pertwee (with a passing resemblance to Ferdy Mayne in THE FEARLESS VAMPIRE KILLERS) prances around the studio insulting the inexperienced director (Richard Coe), he criticizes the set for being too unrealistic, and he raves about how horror films aren’t made like they used to be:"Frankenstein, Phantom of the Opera, Dracula - the one with Bela Lugosi of course, not the new fella (in reference to Christopher Lee).” Similar in-jokes and references to the genre are abound, and the film is constructed with colorful flair, as well as atmospheric scares and style rather than gory shock effects, and the music by Michael Dress is hauntingly unique. The cast of mostly British TV veterans is superb, handling the fun material so well, and it's great to see Lee and Cushing here as vulnerable everyday types, rather than murderous mad doctors or larger-than-life monsters. When released in the U.S. in 1971 by Cinerama, it was a popular feature at drive-in theaters for years, playing on double bills with Cinerama’s monster hit WILLARD and later with subsequent Amicus favorites such as TALES FROM THE CRYPT and ASYLUM.

Lion's Gate Films first released THE HOUSE THAT DRIPPED BLOOD on DVD in 2003, and Hen's Tooth Video reissued it again on DVD (with an improved transfer) a full ten years later. Shout! Factory’s ever impressive Scream Factory arm did very well with their Amicus double feature Blu-ray of TALES FROM THE CRYPT/VAULT OF HORROR, so it was inevitable that they’d be the ones to get THE HOUSE THAT DRIPPED BLOOD out on the format, and we’re so glad they did. The film is presented in 1080p HD in its original 1.85:1 aspect ratio and is a visual delight in its bold and distinct colors, crisp detail, rich textures (especially of the facial kind, as the revealing monster make-up on cameo player Roy Evans will prove) and impressive skin tones. Black levels are solid and grain is consistent and filmic. Unlike the previous DVD releases, the clean Blu-ray presentation of THE HOUSE THAT DRIPPED BLOOD is largely free of speckling and other debris, and this is another definitive winner from Scream Factory. The English Original Mono 2.0 DTS-HD Master Audio track has good balance between the film’s music score, the sound effects and the dialogue. Optional English SDH subtitles are included.

Since the more recent Hen's Tooth DVD was basically a barebones affair (the older Lion's Gate disc included a video interview with the late Amicus co-founder Max J. Rosenberg, as well as a 16mm TV spot), it’s nice that Scream Factory has packed the Blu-ray with supplements. Carried over from the 2003 Anchor Bay U.K. DVD is the commentary with director Peter Duffell moderated by author and British genre expert Jonathan Rigby (Duffell passed away in late 2017). Duffell starts by stating how much he disliked the “trashy” release title (he wanted the film called “Death and the Maiden”) and mentions that he contributed books from his own library as on-screen props (notably “The Haunted Screen”) as well as the Cardigan sweater that Elliott wears, and that the exterior used for the house was actually an old lodge at Shepperton Studios (where most of the film was shot). So much more is addressed here, including that it was six-week shoot, the bits that Duffell added that weren’t in the original script, that Pertwee’s role was originally offered to Vincent Price (his AIP contract wouldn’t allow that), that it was Pertwee’s idea to have his (and Pitt’s) vampire character fly and that Duffell was offered to direct I, MONSTER afterwards but turned it down. This is an entertainingly informative and focused commentary, with Rigby doing a terrific job of keeping up the momentum and Duffell remaining enthusiastic throughout in relaying his experience and creative intentions on the modestly-budgeted production. A second new commentary has film historian/author Troy Howarth going solo. He touches upon some of the material covered in the previous commentary but thoroughly fills things out with an abundance of information on the cast, crew and the literary source, as well as offering deserved appraisal of Duffell’s direction and Lee and Cushing as actors (his very two favorites in fact).