The sixth, last and least of the "Inner Sanctum" mysteries and, curiously enough, the only one not to feature the 'talking head' intro. It's still fairly enjoyable, particularly in its first half (and, that, thanks largely to the presence of heroine Brenda Joyce's curmudgeonly uncle - played by George Cleveland), but rather sluggishly-paced (this being the longest in the series). At least, the final revelation provides a welcome change of pace.
The plot involves a lot of archaic (and, ultimately, irrelevant) haunted-house clichés, including a couple of séances presided over by J. Edward Bromberg as a medium who goes by the silly name of Julian Julian (the sight of his head tilted backwards in trance-mode is sure to provide convulsions of laughter - as does his deadpan delivery of the preposterous dialogue, my favorite being the film's very last line: "The word 'abracadabra' is anathema to the true believer in the occult"!)...but equally hilarious are Rosalind Ivan's melodramatic fainting spells (the script contriving to have her discover each and every corpse!). Regrettable, too, is the monotonous regularity of Bruce Thomas' unannounced appearances (as an insufferable teenage neighbor smitten with Joyce) at the Kincaid household - made via a secret passage in their basement.
In the end, I have to wonder whether director Fox's involvement (who specialized in Grade-Z stuff) has something to do with the fact that this particular film is the one that comes closest to the level of a "Poverty Row" potboiler, with respect to its look and overall quality (as a matter of fact, even the cast is lackluster this time around)!
The plot involves a lot of archaic (and, ultimately, irrelevant) haunted-house clichés, including a couple of séances presided over by J. Edward Bromberg as a medium who goes by the silly name of Julian Julian (the sight of his head tilted backwards in trance-mode is sure to provide convulsions of laughter - as does his deadpan delivery of the preposterous dialogue, my favorite being the film's very last line: "The word 'abracadabra' is anathema to the true believer in the occult"!)...but equally hilarious are Rosalind Ivan's melodramatic fainting spells (the script contriving to have her discover each and every corpse!). Regrettable, too, is the monotonous regularity of Bruce Thomas' unannounced appearances (as an insufferable teenage neighbor smitten with Joyce) at the Kincaid household - made via a secret passage in their basement.
In the end, I have to wonder whether director Fox's involvement (who specialized in Grade-Z stuff) has something to do with the fact that this particular film is the one that comes closest to the level of a "Poverty Row" potboiler, with respect to its look and overall quality (as a matter of fact, even the cast is lackluster this time around)!