My dear readers, I hope you will bear with me during this most troubling of professional quandaries but I underwent a great crisis while penning the very review before you and I feel it is of the utmost importance to present it in the proper context. In the most innocent of fashions, I had the opportunity to view The Maze in the comforts of my own home and after committing my impressions to paper, I consulted various film almanacs to assure that the performer’s names would be spelled correctly in publication. Imagine my depth of mortification when I found that the film was originally filmed and presented in not just two dimensions, as I had ignorantly consumed it, but three. 

The wilting shame of my folly was nearly too much to bear.  How can I comment on this film when it has been robbed of its true splendor? What crude, bi-dimensional biases had I formed? Should a viewer deprived of sight or sound be allowed to impart their opinions to a reading public despite the severe relevance of their handicap? Sadly, my beloved readers, I have none of the answers and so I have decided to submit my thoughts, however humble, in the hope that they may serve as a useful relic in a more enlightened period. 

Kitty Murray (Veronica Hurst) and Gerald MacTeam (Richard Carlson) seem like a happy sort of couple with nothing on the horizon that might interrupt their upcoming nuptials. They lead a comfortable life, entertaining a cheery batch of friends who imbibe in socially appropriate amounts and know all the latest jokes. Inheriting a vast estate seems as though it would only enrich their lives and yet when Gerald receives word that he has become the newly minted baron of Craven Castle, he immediately departs for the palatial estate and ends their engagement by post.

Not to be dismissed quite so easily, Kitty drags her aunt Edith (Katherine Emery) to Craven Castle, where she finds Gerald has not only aged 20 years in two weeks, he has also adopted the most disagreeable temperament. Despite bad manners and even worse omens, Kitty persists in her suit, contriving scheme after scheme to linger longer in the hopes of discovering what forces have transformed her future husband and why he spends his evenings wandering a topiary maze that all others are barred from entering.

The Maze is absolutely smothered with the physical trappings of a good old fashioned horror yarn. It has an isolated castle, cobwebs, bats, intrusive gloom, archaic rules, sinister servants and a monstrous presence that lurks in shadow. And yet this gothic veneer distracts from the film’s true source of terror -- namely, the treatment of its heroine. The amount of guilt that is heaped upon Kitty from the very outset for bothering to care about her betrothed is positively horrifying. 

Though most everyone’s impatience with her devotion is a constant, her treatment becomes particularly brutal during the film’s exposition-heavy conclusion. While some may see nothing more than an overloaded summation in a classic parlor setting, I would venture that this lengthy epilogue is actually the apex of the abuse, every line engineered to practically murder poor Kitty with shame for chasing after her troubled love. The horrors of Kitty’s psychological torment, not unlike the chagrin felt by a critic who has judged a film in an improper context, are profound enough to lend The Maze considerable staying power.

The Maze runs 80 minutes and is certified approved in the United States.