My dear readers, though I admire the monkish devotion which some people are able to adopt in their chosen crafts, I find that any number of supplemental interests are necessary to keep myself fresh for Mostmortem’s journalistic tasks. A variety of collections are among my non-professional pursuits and I find that seeking out the missing bits of a complete set to be a most invigorating divertissement. Though I have passed through a number of subjects and the odd “fad” or two, I have recently settled on collecting medical instruments that have fallen out of popular use, not just for their affordability but also for those rare occasions when an urgent medical need arises and I am able to crack open the display case and put my collection to use. And if, on these occasions, the instruments fail in their task and the operation is unsuccessful, I have several other collections that benefit from such results. 

But my own stock of curiosities is nothing in comparison to that of Christopher Maitland (Peter Cushing). Mr. Maitland is an author on all things supernatural, a subject that is evidently quite popular with the reading public as it has furnished him with a lavish house, an extensive collection of esoterica and the ability to spend his days at auction houses, spreading money about as he pleases. His enduring hunger for occult curios and his indifference to how they are procured allows him some interaction with dubious characters like Anthony Marco (Patrick Wymark) a grubby little man whose formal occupation is hazy at best but who seems to have access to a variety of relics available for purchase. 

Anthony’s latest offering is a real corker of an addition -- the skull of the late Marquis de Sade. Our stockpiling protagonist takes his council with Sir Matthew Phillips (Christopher Lee), another well-to-do gentleman with a taste for the paranormal. Matthew claims the old libertine’s cranium is possessed and that the evil it harbors leads men to pursue unwholesome ends. The Marquis himself was the first to fall victim to its influence and it forced him to become an advocate for unconventional copulation. Matthew warns that even more unsavory tendencies may befall the skull’s next owner but unfortunately, Mr. Maidtland is barely able to begin processing this cautionary tidbit before he falls under the spell of the Marqis’ discarded brain box, his mind suddenly swimming with strange dreams and violent urges.

Director Freddie Francis seems to share his protagonist’s enthusiasm for the artifacts of yore and he lends considerable visual drama to their presentation. These grand old items are given their cinematic due with many a lingering shot paying tribute to the visual potency of antiquity. At times, I am forced admit, it seems as though the sentient components are forgotten amid all the decorative splendor. The considerable excitement surrounding the inanimate is not entirely matched when it comes to presenting the film’s living players and numerous scenes are devoted to a Peter Cushing seated in his study -- reading, thinking, staring at the eponymous skull and catching the odd doze. But I suspect that these scenes arise not from neglect but from the director’s supreme confidence in his performers. While supernatural trinkets may need some visual flair to sell their presence, a cinematic titan like Peter Cushing does not even need to leave his chair.

The Skull runs 83 minutes and does not possess a certified rating in the United States.