Welcome to the Graveyard of Gothic Tropes
If you’ve ever wondered what happens when a studio slaps Vincent Price and Christopher Lee’s names on a movie poster, tosses in some half-baked Poe references, and then lets a wax museum mannequin handle the lead role—The Oblong Boxis your answer. It’s not so much a film as it is a collection of genre clichés playing musical coffins to a soundtrack of slow sighs and voodoo-lite mumbo jumbo.
The title promises you a mystery. What’s in the oblong box? Turns out, it’s disappointment. And Sir Edward. But mostly disappointment.
The Plot: Coffins, Curses, and Crimson Cowls
Set in 1865 England—aka any foggy backlot with two candelabras and a taxidermied butler—the film follows the story of Sir Edward Markham, a colonialist’s cautionary tale who gets disfigured during an off-screen voodoo mishap. Rather than deal with this pesky plot point directly, the filmmakers shove Edward into a locked room while his brother Julian (Vincent Price, phoning it in from the fainting couch) plays Victorian warden and guilt sponge.
Edward eventually fakes his death with the help of a witchdoctor, a dodgy lawyer, and a drugged cocktail potent enough to fool an entire room of people who apparently can’t tell the difference between sleeping and dead. Cue a coffin switcheroo, some body dumping, a few stabbings, and a rising body count that could be called exciting—if it wasn’t sandwiched between scenes of people moping in parlors and mumbling cryptic exposition.
Also: prostitute murder, grave robbing, and a subplot involving Vincent Price’s character getting married mid-homicide spree because hey, even in Gothic horror, love waits for no necromantic brother.
Sir Edward: The World’s Most Misused Mummy
Alister Williamson plays Sir Edward, which is to say, he plays a man in a red hood with the charisma of a tax return. He skulks. He stabs. He moans dramatically while his dubbed voice drones like a disappointed GPS. Supposedly our tragic antihero, he’s more like a Scooby-Doo villain with an identity crisis and a degree in melodrama.
His revenge spree—which includes slashing throats, murdering sex workers, and engaging in emotionally manipulative ghosting—could’ve been compelling if it didn’t feel like a series of cut scenes from a Victorian-themed video game nobody finished.
By the time we get to his backstory twist (spoiler: it was Julian who committed the original crime in Africa), it lands with all the surprise of a wet sponge. Yes, colonialism is bad. But this film treats that idea like it just discovered morality in a cereal box.
Christopher Lee: Paging Dr. What-Am-I-Doing-Here
Lee, billed with grand authority, plays Dr. Neuhartt, a grave-robbing surgeon who gets blackmailed into helping Sir Edward. Unfortunately, Lee looks like he wandered in from a better movie, saw the script, and decided to deliver all his lines like a man waiting for tea. He’s criminally underused and killed off with a throat-slitting so abrupt, it feels like the film finally realized it was wasting his time.
A Tragic Case of Maskne and Misplaced Themes
Let’s talk about the makeup: Sir Edward’s “disfigurement” is finally revealed in a dramatic unmasking… and he looks like someone got a little aggressive with red lipstick and papier-mâché. It’s the big emotional moment, but the effect is more “melting wax dummy” than “tragic horror icon.” Think Phantom of the Opera meets budget face peel.
The film awkwardly tries to tackle the sins of colonialism but does so through the lens of gothic camp and voodoo stereotypes, which is like trying to teach ethics through a Punch and Judy show. Add in a final twist involving Vincent Price becoming infected and you have a morality tale that stumbles into its own irony—Julian, the real villain, finally gets punished by the thing he tried to bury. But honestly, by that point, we all just wanted to bury this movie.
Final Verdict: D for Dull, Disfigured, and Disconnected
The Oblong Box wastes its legendary cast on a film that mistakes atmosphere for story and masks for depth. It has a few spooky set pieces, and yes, Price and Lee sharing a screen is historically significant—but watching them try to salvage this meandering mess is like watching two master chefs try to save a stew made of boots and bad decisions.
