Because the movie gives us all of this information in the early scenes, we immediately suspect the danger that waits for Nan. The movie still has some shocks in store for us along the way, but the script lets us in on the danger and this gives the movie a pervading sense of doom, which ratchets up the suspense level. The town consists of a handful of wooden buildings gathered close around a single street, with a cemetery at the heart of the town. Because we never see Whitewood during the day--only at night--we never get a clear view of the surroundings. All we know are the claustrophobic confines of the building faces. The local bookstore offers a small bit of warmth, and the bookstore owner (Betta St. John) is genuinely helpful and considerate, but even the local church (which still exists despite the complete lack of a congregation) has become an abyss of darkness. The lone priest (Norman Macowan) who guards the grounds is now blind, but he vigilantly defends the church--as he has learned to do in a town that has no use for him or his religion.
The City of the Dead is not a complicated movie. There is no psychological dimension to the developing horror. Instead, we get a story that is simply about light vs. dark. We don't know why Elizabeth Selwyn became attracted to witchcraft. We don't know the nature of her relationship with Jethrow Keane. We don't know why the townsfolk of Whitewood have become attracted to the dark forces. We don't know why Nan is attracted to occult studies. Ultimately, the movie offers a simplistic dichotomy of good/normal society (as represented by Nan, her brother, her boyfriend, and the bookstore owner) vs. the evil outsiders (as represented by the devil-worshipping inhabitants of Whitewood and the duplicitous professor who knowingly lures Nan into a trap). Without a psychological dimension (as in The Wicker Man, for example), The City of the Dead becomes a somewhat minor movie (and thus its relative level of obscurity). But even if the goals of director Moxey and screenwriters Milton Subotsky and George Baxt were not particularly ambitious, the resulting movie is still a marvelously effective thriller that is guaranteed to place you on the edge of your seat.
Christopher Lee does not have a big role, but his presence is felt throughout The City of the Dead. Most of the burden for carrying the movie falls first on Venetia Stevenson and then on Denis Lotis as her brother and Tom Naylor as her boyfriend. But the movie's most dominating presence is Patricia Jessel as the witch. She has a commanding, almost-masculine presence that is set in opposition to Stevenson's inquisitive-but-vulnerable nature.
VCI Entertainment's DVD presentation of The City of the Dead is excellent. The video transfer is sharp and relatively free of scratches and other blemishes. My only misgiving is the audio commentary by Christopher Lee. Faced with watching a movie he apparently had not seen in many years, Mr. Lee spends much of the time simply trying to recollect what's happening. "Oh, this is the scene where …" In the process, he tells us what we already know and rarely provides any insights. However, the disc also contains a 45 minute interview with Lee, and the interview is much superior to the commentary. It forced him to respond to specific questions -- and therefore he provided several intriguing anecdotes. (Moxey's audio commentary track only contains sparse comments. It's not much of an improvement on Lee's.)
If you're only familiar with this movie under the title Horror Hotel, it's time to update your collection with this excellent new version from VCI. And if you haven't yet seen this movie in any form, you're in for a treat. The City of the Dead isn't one of the great horror films, but it's a minor masterpiece of style and atmosphere with several genuinely shocking scenes.