Vincent Price plays a relatively straight role as a wax sculptor, passionate about his craft, who bristles when his cash-strapped business partner offers a choice between more grisly, audience-pleasing material and an “accidental” fire to collect on their insurance policy. The two come to blows, flames inevitably wipe the slate clean and, some time later, Price’s jaded artiste (now confined to a wheelchair) resurfaces with a new portfolio of macabre diorama work ready to go. But, as his revitalized museum prepares for its grand opening extravaganza, a string of murders and suicides jostle the city and corpses begin mysteriously disappearing from the morgue. Many Price horror joints from this era wear a winking, kitschy similarity. Just a bit over the top, they crank up the camp and nod, wryly, to the camera; a playful act that lets us know the stars are in on the joke. Not so for _House of Wax_, which goes full _Phantom of the Opera_ in its quest for fiendish frights and shadowy thrills. Although it’s his first-ever leading performance in a horror film, this is all Vincent’s show. Price reigns over each scene with a regal confidence, but his tasty turn towards the sinister is more composed than I expected and his supporting players keep their cards equally close to the vest. It’s not a total mortuary - _House of Wax_ was among the first major studio releases filmed for 3D, and boy, do they lean into it - but the plot takes itself seriously and the performances are composed of far stiffer stuff than, say, _House on Haunted Hill_. I’m sure the 3D stunts were magical in the right environment, especially given this film’s renewed popularity on the re-release circuit each time the gimmick bubbles back up, but those scenes have a negative effect on standard viewings. We can usually tell when we’re missing something - the man shamelessly dribbling a paddleball straight into the lens is a pretty dead giveaway - but these scenes still linger for an eternity, pumping the brakes to admire the effect without accounting for those of us without a set of special glasses. _House of Wax_’s setup chapters are good fun, quick with exposition and executions alike, but the second act slows to a crawl until its big, startling reveal sends us dashing into the home stretch. Price is magnetic and the screen buzzes any time he’s around, but he’s often relegated to the shadows and then we’re left to tail Phyllis Kirk’s wary, gunshy scream queen through a lackluster one-woman investigation. There’s probably a good reason he made a home of horror and she quickly moved on to other genres. Still, there’s plenty to like in this creepy old fright show, and that’s not entirely due to the main man on the marquee. This house has no shortage of problems, but it’s rare for a film this old to still bring so many goods. That unmasking caught me completely off-guard!

The opening scene is absolutely fantastic, so much so that the rest of the film doesn't quite live up to it. Still, a thoroughly enjoyable Vincent Price vehicle.

"Everything I ever loved has been taken away from me, but not you, my Marie Antoinette, for I will give you eternal life." Vincent Price is to horror films what Laurence Olivier is to Shakespeare. His unique, velvety voice and atmospheric delivery give lines like the one above a poetically tragic yet sinister feel.

I was surprised at how well the original from 1933 still held up, and now I'm surprised that I enjoyed this remake even more! The pacing, characters and their "logic" is way improved. Not often a remake is better than the original. The thing I _didn't_ like was the end. The buildup is so much better than the original, but then they suddenly rush everything the last 10 minutes...

A good and innovative take on the horror genre with interesting visuals. A classic