[3][4] It was the first in a series of anthology films from Amicus and was followed by Torture Garden (1967), The House That Dripped Blood (1970), Tales from the Crypt (1972), Asylum (1972), The Vault of Horror (1973) and From Beyond the Grave (1974).

Five men, one by one, enter a train compartment in a London station bound for the (fictional) town of Bradley, and are joined by a sixth, the mysterious Doctor Schreck whose name, he mentions, is German for "terror".

Biddulph explains she bought the secluded house to help her recover from the death of her husband, to whose memory she would like to dedicate a newly enlarged room as a museum.

Believing Mrs. Biddulph to be in danger, he makes silver bullets out of an ancestral cross that was produced from the sword historically used to kill the monster.

The plant shows increasing signs of intelligence, murderous intent and self-preservation, first killing the family dog, then one of the scientists, and finally snapping the telephone line and then blocking all windows and doors to the house.

Upon witnessing a local voodoo ceremony, he loves the exotic rhythm and tries to pitch on the natives the idea to use it as template for new commercial music.

The show is suddenly halted by a violently stormy wind which makes the public flee, and leads Bailey as well to leave the stage and stumble in the streets until he comes across a garish poster for "Dr Terror's House of Horrors".

He shows that Marsh mistakes the work of a chimpanzee for modern art, and subsequently follows him at public speeches and social gatherings, silencing his contributions mid-way with shameful reminders of the error.

They find proof that Nicolle is the vampire, and she at one point stalks Blake, until being scared off when he raises his arms protectively and accidentally casts the shadow of a cross.

The Monthly Film Bulletin wrote: "Except perhaps in the fourth story, which borrows freely from The Beast with Five Fingers, this horror anthology is filmically near-negligible compared to the best of Riccardo Freda.

The revelation that that most demure, rational and attractive of actresses, Ursula Howells, is a werewolf is also pleasing; as is the foresight of the killer-vine ('Just as I thought: a brain' muses a botanist, examining one of its leaves through a microscope) when it severs the telephone wires with a tendril.

Even though occasional giggles set in, the cast, headed by experienced horror practitioners such as Peter Cushing, Michael Gough, Christopher Lee and Max Adrian, sensibly play it straight.