Terror in the Fog: The Wallace Krimi at CCC Blu-ray Review

Eureka Entertainment

Blu-ray Release: May 27, 2025

Video: 1.66:1 (Curse of the Yellow Snake, Strangler of Blackmoor Castle), 1.37:1 (Racetrack Murders), 2.35:1 (Mad Executioners, Monster of London City)/1080p/Black & White (with some color inserts)

Audio: German and English LPCM 2.0 Mono (all films)

Subtitles: English

Run Time: 97:49, 87:09, 93:52, 90:27, 93:25

Directors: Franz Josef Gottlieb, Harald Reinl, and Edwin Zbonek 

The Italian giallo tradition took its nickname from an existing slang term for the pulp crime novels first published by Mondadori, which used garish yellow covers for their Il Giallo Mondadori series. Several were translations of American and British books, from writers who became the bedrock for the Italian thrillers to come, including Agatha Christie, Edgar Allan Poe, Raymond Chandler, Ellery Queen, Patricia Highsmith, Robert Bloch, and, pertinent to this review, Edgar Wallace, whose work previously inspired a German-made pre-gialli trend that combined murder mysteries, hardboiled noir, and Gothic horror known as krimi films.

Krimi (short for kriminalroman or kriminalfilm) were often either based on existing Edgar Wallace stories, attributed to his son Bryan Wallace, or fashioned to make audiences believe they were Wallace’s adaptations (this extended to the German releases of some gialli, including Riccardo Freda’s Double Face [Italian: A doppia faccia, 1969] and Umberto Lenzi’s Seven Blood-Stained Orchids [Italian: Sette orchid macchiate di rosso, 1972]). Wallace had died in 1932, but had a surprising West German resurgence in 1959, prompted by Danish production company Rialto Film and producer Preben Philipsen’s The Fellowship of the Frog (German: Der Frosch mit der Maske), directed by Harald Reinl and based on Wallace’s novel of the same name (pub. 1925). Wallace had been a mainstay of the German screen since the silent era, but the fervor surrounding the Rialto films was unique.

This collection of krimi, all based on Wallace’s stories and some even directed by Reinl himself, represents the output of one of Rialto’s rival studio CCC Filmkunst, headed by Artur Brauner, a Polish Jew who had immigrated to post-WWII West Berlin after escaping to the Soviet Union during the Holocaust. During this era, CCC cemented their lasting Eurocult credentials by also reviving Fritz Lang’s proto-krimi-esque Dr. Mabuse franchise, coaxing Hammer Studios great Terence Fisher across the Channel to make an official Sherlock Holmes adaptation (Sherlock Holmes and the Deadly Necklace, 1962), giving Jess Franco a filmmaking home outside of fascist Spain, and even co-producing Dario Argento’s groundbreaking giallo hit, The Bird with the Crystal Plumage (Italian: L'Uccello dalle piume di cristallo, 1970).

Despite my affinity for gialli and Italian Gothic horror, I’m a relative newcomer to krimi, so join me while I explore five (technically six, if we count special features) of CCC Filmkunst’s new collection, Terror in the Fog.

Disc 1

The Curse of the Yellow Snake (German: Der Fluch der gelben Schlange, 1963)

A mysterious cult wishes to lay its hands on an ancient artifact that has been brought to London from Hong Kong. (From Eureka’s official synopsis)

Based on the Wallace story of the same name, The Curse of the Yellow Snake was the first CCC Film krimi, the first from producer Artur Brauner, and the first from Austrian director Franz Josef Gottlieb. It sets the tone as a frothy soap opera that shoulders the burden of exposition by sprinting through plot points and daring the audience to keep up with the machinations. In this case, the connection to gialli and slashers is tenuous. The intrigue is closer to what you might see from a spy film, which makes sense, because Terence Young’s Dr. No had premiered to astounding box office receipts the prior year (1962), leading to the parallel-running Eurospy fad.

Initially, Gottlieb’s direction is pedestrian, almost boring, as he blocks shots like a television drama, really highlighting the mundanity of the early part of the story. However, as the scope of the conspiracy widens and bizarre twists are exposed, the film begins to liven up, flashing its impressionistic side, perhaps revealing that the initial blandness was part of a larger plan to ease the audience into the more audacious aspects of the story.

Prolific actor Werner Peters, who plays a hapless father attempting to gain an inheritance by marrying off his daughters (not many spy thrillers spend this much time on arranged marriage subplots…), would later appear in The Bird with the Crystal Plumage as a flamboyant, comic relief art dealer. Not to be confused with Eddi Arent, who plays a flamboyant, comic relief antique dealer in this film. The Curse of the Yellow Snake is steeped in Yellow Peril tropes, so beware of Swiss actor Pinkas Braun’s yellow-face ‘make-up.’ It appears that the corners of his eyes are quite literally taped to his hairline. 

The Strangler of Blackmoor Castle (German: Der Würger von Schloß Blackmoor, 1963)

A masked murderer stalks the grounds of a vast British estate and brands his victims' foreheads with the letter 'M.' (From Eureka’s official synopsis)

Credited genre progenitor Harald Reinl had already teamed up with Brauner and CCC Film for The Return of Doctor Mabuse (German: Im Stahlnetz des Dr. Mabuse, 1961 – the second in the CCC series) when he made this mega-Gothic krimi for the studio. The Strangler of Blackmoor Castle is based on one of the junior Bryan Wallace’s books (it’s not clear if this book existed before the movie) and draws the krimi’s connections to gialli and early slashers into greater focus with emphasis on the murder and mystery parts of the murder-mystery formula. It also has strong connections to the bygone era of hardboiled detective movies and often plays out like a particularly trashy procedural noir with a horror slant. 

Ladislas Fodor and Gustav Kampendonk’s screenplay is busy, but not overstuffed, in spite of its brief runtime, making it easy to follow and keep track of characters as we learn their dirty little secrets. The body-count stacks up quickly and the violence is quite gruesome for the time, punctuated by some surprisingly realistic severed head props. Reinl’s direction is stylish from the get-go, squeezing every ounce of gloom from the titular location and surrounding, fog-swept bog, and Ernst W. Kalinke’s cinematography is so rich that even the unconvincing, rear-projected driving sequences look spectacularly moody.

The cast is fronted by future Bond Girl and Hitchcock Brunette Karin Dor and includes Richard Häussler as the bird-obsessed comic relief with a funny mustache, Dieter Eppler, who’d later team with Dor and Reinl for The Torture Chamber of Dr. Sadism (German: Die Schlangengrube und das Pendel, 1967), as the shifty butler with an unhealthy emotional attachment to diamonds, and Rudolf Fernau, a former card-carrying Nazi who was, at one point, banned from the industry. Holocaust-survivor Brauner must have really appreciated what he brought to the role to hire him. 

This is the first example I’ve seen of a krimi cladding its killer in black leather gloves, which end up being a major (and rather obvious) clue as to the masked killer’s identity. Though this is most likely not the first thriller to use them in this capacity, black gloves did become a defining visual trait of the gialli, thanks to Mario Bava’s fetishistic use of them. 

Extras

• Commentary by authors Kim Newman and Barry Forshaw (Curse of the Yellow Snake) – Newman, the critic and author of Nightmare Movies: Horror on Screen Since the 1960s (Bloomsbury, 2011 [expanded edition]), and Forshaw, a television presenter and author of British Gothic Cinema (Palgrave Macmillan, 2013), among others, explore the history of Wallace’s books, the development of krimi, genre motifs/themes, similar and overlapping genres, the Yellow Peril, the wider careers of the cast & crew, and German films pretending to take place in England.

• Commentary with Kevin Lyons and Jonathan Rigby (The Strangler of Blackmoor Castle) – This is another sort of introductory commentary and the author/critic duo explores subject matter similar to Newman and Forshaw. Obviously, there is overlap, but also plenty of focus on The Grangler of Blackmoor Castle’s specific cast, crew, and plot points.

• Curse of the Yellow Snake introduction by Tim Lucas (12:26, HD) – In the first of several intros from the Video Watchdog editor and author of Mario Bava: All the Colors of the Dark (Video Watchdog, 2007) sets up the film’s plot, the genre’s history, and briefly explains the careers of its cast & crew.

• The Strangler of Blackmoor Castle introduction by Tim Lucas (10:05, HD)

• What is a Krimi? (5:51, HD) – Lucas offers a quick lesson on the history of krimi and its connections to gialli.

• German Curse of the Yellow Snake trailer

Disc 2

The Mad Executioners (German: Der Henker von London, 1963)

London is faced with dual threats as a gang of hooded vigilantes roam the streets while a sadistic serial killer is on the loose. (From Eureka’s official synopsis)

The first of two films in the set from Austrian director Edwin Zbonek, who was also behind the camera for CCC’s Holocaust-themed fugitive war drama Man and Beast (German: Mensch und Bestie), which was released the same year and appears to have some biographical connections to Brauner’s family’s plight. Don’t let the connection to classy, thought-provoking filmmaking confuse you, though, because The Mad Executioners is an unabashedly tawdry mix of vigilante conspiracies, domestic melodrama, mad science, and goofy, Inspector Clouseau-style antics from British actor Chris Howland, who provides a bierhalle singalong break smack dab in the middle of the movie, just in case anyone is growing bored (a very similar character shows up in The Monster of London City).

In terms of the directors represented here, Zbonek nearly matches Gottlieb (Strangler of Blackmoor Castle became my quality standard going forward). He has a good sense of dynamism, propulsion, and suspense, and the final 15 or so minutes of the film successfully balance the wacky revelations with real nail-biting suspense. Cinematographer Siegfried Holdhe gets loads of mileage out of the misty London locales, German-based sets, and 2.35:1 widescreen framing. Robert A. Stemmle’s screenplay, contractually co-credited to Bryan Wallace, benefits from a relative focus on the police procedural side of the formula. One fun touch here is that the script incorporates a few additional mini-whodunnits into the narrative by way of the vigilante society’s tribunals. My favorite is the guy who killed his brother and hid the body in the British museum’s Egyptian sarcophagus.

Female lead (really the only woman with any lines) Maria Perschy grew into a notable Eurocult figure after working with British mega-producer Harry Alan Towers and all the top Spanish genre directors. Most pertinent to this review, she appeared in Jeremy Summers’ Wallace adaptation Five Golden Dragons (1967) and Carlos Aured’s frothy giallo a la España Blue Eyes of the Broken Doll (Spanish: Los Ojos Azules de la Muneca Rota, 1973) with Paul Naschy (aka: Jancinto Molina). Among the other familiar faces is Rudolf Fernau as the requisite shifty butler and Hansjörg Felmy, who was billed alongside Paul Newman and Julie Andrews a couple of years later on Hitchcock’s Torn Curtain (1965). 

Extras

• Commentary with Kevin Lyons and Jonathan Rigby – Lyons and Rigby continue delving into krimi genre, the making of The Mad Executioners, and the careers of the film’s cast & crew, all while poking good-natured fun at the wild plot.

• Introduction by Tim Lucas (11:12, HD)

• The Phantom of Soho (96:03, SD) – A bonus 1964 krimi in standard definition from director Gottlieb. Though it is, strictly speaking, another police procedural, it is among the collection’s most giallo-esque movies, as highlighted by its stylish knife murders, killer POV shots, burlesque club/bordello setting, bodycount, and basic story structure. Additionally, actress Barbara Rütting’s character has some astonishing similarities to Anthony Franciosa’s character in Argento’s Tenebrae (1982) and Werner Peters shows up as another shifty oddball. Alas, the killer’s gloves are reflective gold lamé, not black leather.

  • Commentary with Kim Newman and Barry Forshaw

  • Introduction by Lucas (8:45, HD).

• Bryan Edgar Wallace: An Era (9:58, HD) – Arthur Brauner’s daughter Alice discusses her father’s Wallace adaptations, connections to the Mabuse films, gialli, and slashers, and Bryan Wallace’s contract, which typically involved only using his name (though she says he did contribute to some of the screenplays).

• German, international, and US trailers

Disc 3

The Monster of London City (German: Das Ungeheuer von London City, 1964)

Jack the Ripper lives on as a series of brutal murders brings panic to the British capital. (From Eureka’s official synopsis)

The historical figure and fictional character Jack the Ripper is a mainstay of mad killer cinema, from proto-slashers to modern slashers, so it’s no surprise to find him the subject of a krimi. If anything, I’m surprised to learn that Edgar Wallace never explicitly wrote a story about Jack, because many of the conspiracies surrounding his identity already read like one of the author’s stories.

Mad Executioners directing/screenwriting duo Zbonek & Stemmle (noting that the script is again co-credited to Bryan Wallace) actually draw from one of the most popular Ripper conspiracy theories, which was first proposed by Australian journalist Leonard Matters and became the basis for Monty Berman & Robert S. Baker’s Jack the Ripper (1959). They move the events to a then modern setting, borrow aspects from Hitchcock’s The Lodger (1927), and change the Ripper’s identity for the sake of the mystery, but The Monster of London City is, by and large, a familiar version of the story adorned with a charming metatextual twist. You see, the main suspect, Richard Sand (once again played by Hansjörg Felmy), is an actor in a Jack the Ripper stage play that happens to coincide with a series of copycat murders.

While the Ripper legend, Richard’s self doubts, and the procedural investigation are the main narrative elements, The Monster of London City is ahead of its time, because it doubles as an exposé on the nature of violent media and its relation to violence in real life. Michael Powell’s Peeping Tom (1960) got there first and did it better, but I’m still counting this as a small step towards the postmodern slasher movement. Zbonek’s visuals support this theme by contrasting the artifice of the play with the real world investigation, as well as the Gothic/expressionistic locations with contemporary fashion of the era. Hammer Studios did something similar in the early ‘70s in hopes of remaining relevant with counterculture youth.

Side note: As Tim Lucas notes in his introduction, this film and The Phantom of Soho take place in the same area and share some footage. Additionally, Lucas notes that the plot might have some basis in reality, as actor Richard Mansfield was apparently so convincing in a London stage production of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde that he was questioned in reference to a series of murders in the area.

Extras

• Commentary with Kim Newman and Stephen Jones – This time, Newman is joined by consistent commentary collaborator, writer, and editor Jones as they run through the basic histories of CCC, Wallace, and the krimi, shared elements between the films, the careers of the cast & crew, connections between ‘60s European horror, and the weird krimi representation of London.

• Introduction by Tim Lucas (7:44, HD)

• Passing the Blade: From Krimi to Slasher (18:24, HD) – The Giallo Canvas: Art, Excess and Horror Cinema (McFarland, 2021) author and recent Rondo Awards Writer of the Year Alexandra Heller-Nicholas discusses connections and shared influences from the German crime film cycle to the gialli and slasher cycles.

• German trailer

Disc 4

The Racetrack Murders (German: Das 7. Opfer, 1964)

People are dropping like flies in and around a stately home, and the murders might just have something to do with the owner's prized racehorse. (From Eureka’s official synopsis)

Gottlieb closes things out with The Racetrack Murders, aka: The Seventh Victim (not to be confused with Mark Robson’s 1943 thriller The Seventh Victim), based on Bryan Wallace’s novel Murder is not Enough (published the same year). It’s a mixed bag that clumsily fuses an Agatha Christie-esque drawing room mystery with gangster and spy tropes. It’s a bulky script, laden with an excess of suspects, schemes, and tones that would probably be better suited to a stage play (it's actually pretty funny up to the extremely unappealing final gag). Fortunately, Gottlieb’s creative visual choices and sophisticated filmmaking techniques help propel otherwise inert scenes of people exploring clues, cracking jokes, and arguing. 

Also, while there are definitely too many characters crammed into this 93-minute movie, they’re reasonably easy to keep track of, thanks to the specific and quirky traits and overall performance quality. The Racetrack Murders is practically the Avengers of CCC’s krimis with its ensemble of familiar faces – Hansjörg Felmy, Werner Peters, Dieter Borsche, and Hans Nielsen –  acting alongside Danish actress Ann Smyrner, known for Giorgio Stegani’s spaghetti western Beyond the Law (Italian: Al di là della legge, 1968) and Poul Bang & Sidney W. Pink’s giant monster goof-fest Reptilicus (1960), and Wolfgang Lukschy, who appeared in Sergio Leone’s Fistful of Dollars’ (Italian: Per un pugno di dollari) the same year (1964).

Outside of a few brief stalk & clobber (not stab) sequences, The Racetrack Murders probably has the fewest direct references to gialli and slashers. However, in her video essay found on disc three of this set, Alexandra Heller-Nicholas cleverly notes that the racetrack setting is tied to Derby Day, which, in turn, ties The Racetrack Murders to the holiday and event settings of classic slashers.

Extras

• Commentary with Kevin Lyons and Jonathan Rigby – More of the same from the well-prepared experts.

• Introduction by Tim Lucas (7:42, HD)

• Terror in the Fog (84:28, HD) – This discussion between Lucas and comic artist/horror aficionado Stephen Bissette is basically a commentary track that can be played over the first 84:28 of the film. It covers all six movies (including Phantom of Soho), the broader history of the genre and studio, and does so from a personable point-of-view, as Bissette’s solo featurettes often are.

• The Seventh Victim German trailer

Bibliography:

• Giallo & Thrilling All'italiana (1931-1983) by Stefano Piselli & Antonio Bruschini (Glittering Images, 2010)

Video

Aside from Racetrack Murders, all of the films in this set were originally available on US DVD from budget labels Retromedia and Alpha Video. They all made their German Blu-ray debut in 2021 via either Tobis’ Edgar Wallace Gesamtedition: 1959-1972 collection or on solo disc from Pidax. According to Eureka’s ad copy, all five 1080p transfers are taken from CCC Filmkunst’s own 2K restorations of the ‘original film elements’ (they don’t specify negative or print sources).

Technically, four of the five films aren’t entirely black & white, because they use color for their opening titles, but the bulk of what you’ll see is monochromatic. Cinematographers Siegfried Hold (Curse of the Yellow Snake and Monster of London City), Ernst W. Kalinke (Strangler of Blackmoor Castle), and Richard Angst (The Mad Executioners and Racetrack Murders) approach their respective films similarly, emphasizing hard shadows and high contrasts. The quality is consistent across the board with the 2.35:1 scope pictures having advantages in terms of dynamic range and the 1.37:1 and 1.66:1 pictures having minor detail and texture advantages. All five transfers have, for the most part, been scrubbed without overwhelming the inherent grain.

Audio

All five films are presented with uncompressed LPCM mono German and English dub options. Unlike Italian thrillers, the krimi appear to have been shot with sync’d sound and the casts aren’t made up of international actors speaking a half dozen different languages. People appear to be speaking German across the board and a lot of what they said was captured on set, giving the German track a substantial edge in terms of clarity and verisimilitude (the Racetrack Murders English track is particularly muffled). The English dubs are quieter, some of the incidental effects are pressed out, and the lip sync is rarely convincing. On the other hand, the stiff, radio play English language performances have a lot of entertainment value.

One area that I can safely say the gialli surpassed their German counterparts was music. Not to imply that the composers represented here – Raimund Rosenberger (Curse of the Yellow Snake, The Mad Executioners, and Racetrack Murders), Oskar Sala (Strangler of Blackmoor Castle), and Martin Böttcher (Monster of London City) – are bad at their jobs, just that the limited compositions don’t have the same hummable themes you’d hear from either Ennio Morricone or Bruno Nicolai. The Mad Executioners and The Monster of London City do both have a sultry, big band appeal, I suppose. The continued staccato-electro motifs actually remind me more of ‘50s science fiction than European thrillers or film noir. 

The images on this page are taken from the Blu-ray and sized for the page. Larger versions can be viewed by clicking the images. Note that there will be some JPG compression.