Peter Cushing - The Unknown Peter Cushing

by Michael G. McGlasson

Fanboys tend to fawn over Peter Cushing; yes, he was an actor of extraordinary aptitude...yes, he was gracious with his public...yes, surviving as a Hammer icon, he pioneered depth into Frankenstein and Van Helsing. Of course, writers often eulogize Mr. Cushing with the same sentiments and pad the remainder of their “research” with flattery.

McGlasson’s book is the critical missing piece to the puzzle; even Cushing’s autobiography is bereft of the same historical and personal significance. Circumventing any sort of speculation or filler, the author chronicles past generations of the Cushing heritage. In the event that you’re a Cushing devotee, a thoroughly meticulous background will prove rewarding; if you prefer the perfunctory story that severely compresses Cushing’s career into“horror star” abridgement, go ahead and buy the very pale imitations of McGlasson’s work.

The enigma that was Helen Cushing is thoroughly explored. Yes, Mr. Cushing suffered a sort of terminal depression when his wife passed away, hardly a trade secret. Idle rumor has circulated that Mrs. Cushing was either possessive or quite autocratic. McGlasson finally affords full disclosure of the couple’s bond. Perhaps enlightened to Peter’s personal pledge to commit suicide in 1934 (he intended to leap-off a “200 foot high peak at Orcombe Point”), the dying Helen cautioned her husband–in a final farewell message–to “Do not be hasty to leave this world...And remember, we will meet again when the time is right. This is my promise.” As a footnote, the author notes that Laurence Olivier–aware the the couple was inseparable–invited Helen to join her husband in an extended 1948 ensemble tour of Australia and New Zealand.

Foreshadowing the actor’s indelible link to horror films, McGlasson notes that Cushing–sailing for America in pursuit of film roles (1938)–was invited to a cricket party at the home of Sir C. Aubrey Smith (“‘commander’ of the Hollywood Raj”); the official membership included Basil Rathbone and Boris Karloff. The actor nailed a small supporting role in Laurel and Hardy’s CHUMP AT OXFORD (unfortunately, Cushing’s off-screen fraternity with the duo is not expanded upon). McGlasson also notes that Cushing subsequently developed a friendship with Michael Gough (both actors were engaged for a 1945 stage presentation of “The Rivals”), whose own horror credits would oscillate from classics to shlock. A sense of deja-vu is also evoked in Cushing roles which connected to the casting of his forebears

McGlasson appends his bio with rare photos (including the Cushing family’s Coat of Arms).

In the event that you’re a Cushing aficionado, your home library is incomplete without this thoroughly-researched chronicle of the actor’s personal life and pre-Hammer career. We’re quite grateful to Mr. McGlasson for the education. Highly recommended.

Fanboys tend to fawn over Peter Cushing; yes, he was an actor of extraordinary aptitude...yes, he was gracious with his public...yes, surviving as a Hammer icon, he pioneered depth into Frankenstein and Van Helsing. Of course, writers often eulogize Mr. Cushing with the same sentiments and pad the remainder of their “research” with flattery (often dispensed by the actor’s former co-stars or, especially gratuitous, a legion of gee-whiz fanboys who duly note that “Cushing was a nicer guy, in person, than [frequent co-player] Christopher Lee.” True but about as revelatory as an I LOVE LUCY rerun.

McGlasson’s book is the critical missing piece to the puzzle; even Cushing’s autobiography is bereft of the same historical and personal significance. Circumventing any sort of speculation or filler, the author chronicles past generations of the Cushing heritage. In the event that you’re a Cushing devotee, a thoroughly meticulous background will prove rewarding; if you prefer the perfunctory story that severely compresses Cushing’s career into“horror star” abridgement, go ahead and buy the very pale imitations of McGlasson’s work.

The enigma that was Helen Cushing is thoroughly explored. Yes, Mr. Cushing suffered a sort of terminal depression when his wife passed away, hardly a trade secret. Idle rumor has circulated that Mrs. Cushing was either possessive or quite autocratic. McGlasson finally affords full disclosure of the couple’s bond. Perhaps enlightened to Peter’s personal pledge to commit suicide in 1934 (he intended to leap-off a “200 foot high peak at Orcombe Point”), the dying Helen cautioned her husband–in a final farewell message–to “Let the sun shine in your heart...Do not be hasty to leave this world, because you will not go until you have lived the life you have been given. And remember, we will meet again when the time is right. This is my promise.” As a footnote, the author notes that Laurence Olivier–aware the the couple was inseparable–invited Helen to join her husband in an extended 1948 ensemble tour of Australia and New Zealand.

Foreshadowing the actor’s indelible link to horror films, McGlasson notes that Cushing–sailing for America in pursuit of film roles (1938)–was invited to a cricket party at the home of Sir C. Aubrey Smith (“‘commander’ of the Hollywood Raj”); the official membership included Basil Rathbone and Boris Karloff in addition to Hollywood stalwarts Claude Rains and George Sanders. The actor nailed a small supporting role in Laurel and Hardy’s CHUMP AT OXFORD (unfortunately, Cushing’s off-screen fraternity with the duo is not expanded upon). McGlasson also notes that Cushing subsequently developed a friendship with Michael Gough, whose own horror credits would oscillate from classics (e.g. HORROR OF DRACULA) to shlock (e.g. KONGA).

McGlasson appends his bio with rare, historical photos (including the Cushing family’s Coat of Arms).

In the event that you’re a Cushing aficionado, your home library is incomplete without this thoroughly-researched chronicle of the actor’s personal life and pre-Hammer career. We’re quite grateful to Mr. McGlasson for the education. Highly recommended.