New review: Curse Of The Fly

This one created a bit of a buzz back in ’65. But as a British-filmed sequel to an American classic, it feels like it has since been swatted into oblivion.

“Is it any good?” You ask. “Ha!” I answer. If you need to ask that, you obviously haven’t been paying attention.

It has a lot going for it, though. Not least some nasty body horror and a plastered leading man. And a spot of “of its time” casting (are you really telling me there was not one single actual Chinese actress available in the whole of the UK at that time? Or perhaps even someone within the production switched on enough to ask “does the housekeeper actually have to be Chinese? It doesn’t seem to add much to the plot…”).

Yes, it’s that kind of film. I can’t think the Canadians in the audience were all that happy about the lack of any actual Canadians on show, either.

So come with me for our third trip to la maison des Delambres (but the only trip that qualifies to appear on this hallowed website). It’s time for The Curse Of The Fly (also known as “I’m Henri, fly, me”).