For much of the first half of its existence, Universal Pictures was best known for two things: monster movies and westerns. There were prestige pictures, of course, but give or take a Foolish Wives (1922) or an All Quiet on the Western Front (1930), these genres were their bread and butter for decades. Because of this, it is a bit surprising that no one at the studio thought to combine the genres until the husband-and-wife writing team Edward and Mildred Dein with 1959’s Curse of the Undead.
The timing for a movie of this kind is also a bit odd. Horror in the 1950s had mostly moved on from classic monsters like vampires and werewolves into the realm of science fiction featuring eco-horrors, giant bugs, radioactive threats, and alien invaders. Universal certainly released its share of films along these lines, including Creature from the Black Lagoon (1954), Tarantula (1955), The Deadly Mantis (1957), and The Incredible Shrinking Man (1957).
As this trend waned, Hammer began remaking—and making a financial killing—off the classic monsters again, beginning with The Curse of Frankenstein (1957), Horror of Dracula (1958), and The Mummy (1959).
At the same time, westerns were ubiquitous both in theaters and on television. As high as fifty percent of the top shows on television in the 1950s were westerns, including Gunsmoke, Bonanza, Rawhide, Have Gun Will Travel, Maverick, and Wagon Train, just to name a few of the most popular. In theaters in the second half of the decade, audiences received The Searchers (1956), 3:10 to Yuma (1957), and Rio Bravo (1959). Moviegoers and TV-watchers at the time would find it unimaginable that the genre would be all but dead within a decade.
The westerns that would be released in the late ’60s would be practically unrecognizable, featuring complex heroes played by Clint Eastwood and Charles Bronson and villains played by previous western heroes like Henry Fonda. The final nails in the classic western’s coffin would be hammered by Sergio Leone, Clint Eastwood, and Mel Brooks by the mid-1970s.
A Gunslinger With a Dark Secret

Curse of the Undead unfolds like a typical classic western. The Carter Family is being terrorized by a gunslinging ruffian named Buffer (Bruce Gordon) and his gang. While investigating an epidemic affecting only the young girls of the town, Doc Carter (John Hoyt) suddenly falls ill and dies. Presuming Buffer is to blame, Carter’s son Tim (Jimmy Murphy) vows revenge and is gunned down by Buffer in a duel. Dolores Carter (Kathleen Crowley) hires a gunslinger, a mysterious stranger dressed in black named Drake Robey (Michael Pate), to kill Buffer for the deaths of her father and brother.
The twist is that Robey has been orchestrating the land dispute between the Carters and Buffer and is also behind the deaths of the young girls. Because Robey is a vampire.
Naturally, any vampire needs a nemesis. This comes in the form of Preacher Dan (Eric Fleming), the town minister who also happens to be Dolores Carter’s beau. He also happens to wear a pin with a cross on it, supposedly carved from a thorn found at the site of the crucifixion of Jesus. He and Robey quickly become natural enemies, as Robey also begins to seduce Dolores, who quickly becomes torn between the angel and the bad man.
Perhaps the film’s best scene is between Dan and Robey in the preacher’s study. Robey is a surprisingly sympathetic vampire for the time, not an embodiment of pure evil like most Draculas of the era. As the title suggests, he is cursed to his half-life. “What I am is not my own choice!” he declares. “You should pity me, not judge me in my torment.” He goes on to tell Dan, “All I ever wanted of life was to live in love.” In other words, he wants simply what most people want. To live in peace and love rather than unrest and isolation. He kills out of compulsion to survive, not out of hate or vengeance. That is his curse.
Borrowing From Val Lewton

Director Edward Dein was clearly influenced by the films produced by Val Lewton at RKO in the 1940s, like Cat People (1942), The Seventh Victim (1943), and The Body Snatcher (1945), but lacks the finesse of Lewton and the writers and directors who worked for him. For example, Dein includes a “Lewton Night Walk” in Curse of the Undead, in which the vampire pursues Preacher Dan in the dark. In the film, it is more of a run than a walk, and in the Lewton films the pursuer is mostly heard rather than seen except perhaps for shoes and shadows. The photography by Ellis W. Carter, however, is moody and effective, making excellent use of shadows and contrasts, which lends itself to Dein’s attempt at emulating Lewton.
Another interesting aspect of Curse of the Undead is its score by Irving Gertz, who had previously written the scores for It Came from Outer Space (1953), The Creature Walks Among Us (1956), and The Incredible Shrinking Man. The theremin, introduced into science fiction scores by Bernard Herrmann in The Day the Earth Stood Still (1951), is emulated in this score by an electric violin, which offers an otherworldly theme for the vampire. The score includes some other unusual instrumentation for film music at the time, including guitar and flutter-tongue brass.
Curse of the Undead was not the first of its kind and was preceded by mostly forgotten poverty row pictures. But it is the first major studio effort of its kind. It is also a B-picture, made on the cheap to be placed on the second half of a double feature with a larger budget film.
Character Actors of the Old West

One of the joys of watching films of this kind is that they are often cast with character actors rather than stars. Much of the cast were familiar faces on television, though few would go on to much fame. Eric Fleming played the trail boss Gil Favor alongside Clint Eastwood’s young buck Rowdy Yates on Rawhide. Michael Pate appeared in mostly bit roles in films, big and small, along with keeping busy in guest roles on TV. Kathleen Crowly was a regular guest star on Maverick and many other television series, along with a number of low-budget films between 1950 and 1970 when she left acting.
Perhaps the most recognizable faces in the cast are John Hoyt and Edward Binns, who plays the town sheriff. Hoyt appeared in dozens of television series, including many of the westerns already mentioned, along with two episodes of The Twilight Zone, an episode each of Kolchak: The Night Stalker and the original Battlestar Galactica. He also played Grandpa Kanisky on the ’80s sitcom Gimme a Break! Edward Binns had a long career and became a familiar face in several Sidney Lumet films, including 12 Angry Men (1957), Fail Safe (1964), and The Verdict (1982). He also appeared in small roles in several iconic films including North by Northwest (1959), Judgement at Nuremberg (1961), Patton (1970), and Night Moves (1975). You can find me recreating the Leonardo DiCaprio pointing meme whenever Binns shows up on screen.
Curse of the Undead is admittedly not a particularly great film. The script has several very odd moments, such as when Robey seems to climb into a coffin with a dead man. The plot and much of the dialogue are ham-fisted, and many of the performances leave something to be desired. The sets are clearly cannibalized from existing sets on the Universal backlot, and most of the outside spaces will be recognizable to anyone who has taken the Universal Studios Hollywood tram tour. But it is also an unusual film for its time and one worth spotlighting.
The Birth of the Horror Western

To this day, the horror western is a rare breed, and there were even fewer in the classic horror era. In the upcoming years, a handful more were released, though they are not up to the standard of even Curse of the Undead. 1966 saw the release of a pair of films directed by William Baudine, Billy the Kid vs. Dracula and Jesse James Meets Frankenstein’s Daughter, the former starring 40s-era Dracula John Carradine. One would be hard-pressed to call either of these films good, but they do have their charms.
Later generations of filmmakers have had better luck with the horror western, both classic and modern. Some in the modern vein include The Hitcher (1986 and the 2007 remake), Kathryn Bigelow’s Near Dark (1987), Robert Rodriguez’s From Dusk Till Dawn (1996), and John Carpenter’s Vampires (1998). A few have even saddled up for period westerns like Ravenous (1999) and Bone Tomahawk (2015).
Almost seventy years after it appeared and quickly disappeared from theaters, Curse of the Undead remains a remarkable curiosity. There is not a great deal of depth to it, nor does it break much new ground for either of its genres. It would have been all but forgotten if not for a cult of monster kids and its eventual release on Blu-ray by Kino Lorber Studio Classics. But for all its shortcomings, Curse of the Undead is an entertaining film and a fascinating experiment in genre alchemy.

