General News
2 September, 2025
TALES THAT TANTALISE: Perennial spine chillers
In a dark room we all sat around the fireplace in the family lounge
Silence filled the room as we waited in anticipation for the black and white television to come on.
As the shadows flickered from the fire casting ominous shapes on the walls the TV came alive.
When the exclusively American programs came to an end I had the opportunity to watch a “Rank” production of Sherlock Holmes.
The black and white product of the British film makers in some ways was enhanced by the setting and the scratchy (static) picture.
During my time in the Melbourne suburb of Preston I had devoured Sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s novels.
Mostly I had concentrated on his detective tales of Holmes and Doctor Watson, although they were only part of his stories.
Doyle graduated as a doctor but was totally pre-occupied with his story telling.
He wrote many short stories about life in the English counties.
Doyle had a strong belief in the “spiritual” world.
He conducted regular seances where he and the participants believed they communicated with the dead.
He was severely opposed by Harry Houdini who believed they were charlatans.
The “Rank” productions featuring Basil Rathbone as Holmes and Nigel Bruce as Dr Watson were enthralling.
They had captured the atmosphere of the stories and were brilliant.
Rathbone was totally convincing as Holmes as he traded wits with the archetypal villain Moriarty.
Uncle Jim who owned a Silver Top taxi and had a soft heart, often brought home troubled passengers. He would feed them, sometimes give them a bed for the night, all at no charge.
On one occasion he picked up Basil Rathbone and delivered him to the Princess Theatre where he was starring in the stage production of “The Marriage-Go-Round”.
Uncle Jim explained my love of his depiction of Holmes and arranged a meeting.
Rathbone was an imposing figure with an aristocratic English accent.
He was a fan of Australian rules footy and so I took him to Fitzroy’s training where he met all the players.
Returning to Brunswick Street he had a cup of tea and tea cake. He even shared a cigarette with Aunty Pat.
Aunty Pat, Uncle Jim, my dad and I were guests at the Princess Theatre where we were treated like royalty. Honni Freger, a TV star, was the leading lady.
Rathbone had a distinguished career both in movies and on the stage.
He was unforgettable as “the Sheriff of Nottingham” opposed to the definitive Errol Flynn as Robin Hood.
Uncle Jim was beset with superstitions and ghostly apparitions.
At the back of the house there was a loft and several bluestone buildings.
On a cold night the wind howled through the laneway. Jim was convinced they were “banshees” in search of a body to invade.
The radio production of “Inner Sanctum” petrified the family as they listened in awe.
I returned one night to find Jim entangled in the kitchen blinds as a gust of wind had caused them to fall on him.
This happened when he was seeking refuge from Boris Karloff’s the “Ghost of Old Gorio”.
Remarkably in the days before the modern computer-driven special effects, one’s imagination was all that was needed to conjure up the most dramatic images.
Apart from Boris Karloff, Vincent Price was the epitome of horror.
He had a voice that sent shivers down your spine.
“The House of Wax” starring Price has left a lasting impression on me.
Edgar Allan Poe was a prolific writer who produced many fantastic stories, even though he died in his early 30s.
His stories have been made into many movies. Often his basic storyline was retold in a modern