Peter Cushing is not my dad. Please stop asking. I know that he and I have the same bone structure and body type AND level of success/talent, but I checked the DNA and it just ain’t matchin’. Despite not being my father, Peter Cushing was just great. I know you already know it, so let’s talk about this big old boxset from the mighty Severin Films. Everyone needs more Cushing for the pushing. That’s a fact.

First up is Cone of Silence (1960), a film about accidental malfeasance and shoddy engineering in the airplane industry. The film is well-made by director Charles Frend and three screenwriters, but other than pinging my anxiety about air travel, the best thing about it are the performances from Michael Craig, Bernard Lee, and Elizabeth Seal. Both George Sanders and Peter Cushing are excellent in minor roles. Let’s put this dated little curio back in the cone of silence where it belongs.

Next is Suspect (1960), an uncomfortable little espionage thriller on a micro budget that is easily my favorite film in this entire set. Directed by twin brothers, John and Roy Boulting, the story is about a frustrated scientist (Troy Britton) who is tricked into leaking some dangerous research on bioweapons to a shady character (Donald Pleasence). Suspect has an excellent film noir look to it thanks to some masterful camerawork by Mutz Greenbaum. Cushing is particularly good in his role as the gruff mentor and Ian Bannen is quite scary as an unhinged and very bitter war veteran.

Speaking of thrillers, The Man Who Finally Died (1962) tells the tale of Joe Newman (Stanley Baker), receives a letter from his dead dad and rolls up into a small village in Bavaria to figure out what in the krustenbraten is going on. Before he knows it, Joe is mixed up in all kinds of weird, corpse exhuming, and conspiratorial fun! This is a well-acted thriller from TV director Quentin Lawrence. The locations are gothic as all heck and the bitchin’ black and white photography is superb. Even with the double and triple crosses, the story is a tad predictable. Nevertheless, I found this one quite enjoyable.

On the TV tip of the boxset is Peter Cushing starring as Sherlock Holmes in the only six surviving episodes of the 1968 BBC run of “Sherlock Holmes”. Cushing really goes for it in this cheap and somewhat awkward series. He and Nigel Stock, as Dr. Watson, have a great rapport together. Stock might be one of my favorite actors to ever play Watson. The little chunk of this short running series has all kinds of familiar faces for fans of British TV and film, and I wish I could see those lost episodes to spot more cool folks as well as get a better sense of its overall quality.

Up next is the most frustrating film in the entire set. Bloodsuckers (1971) is a fine example of a film with some cool ideas that is hampered by either studio interference or budgetary problems or both. Director Robert Hartford-Davis, who helmed the wonderfully sleazy gem Corruption (1968), washed his hands of this project and I don’t blame him. The story concerns a young professor named Richard (Patrick Mower), who has gone missing while running around in Greece. His college’s provost (Cushing) sends in Tony (Alex Davion), an investigator, to get Richard out of some hippie orgies! Also, there’s vampirism. The editing on this film is brutally bad, the acting is stiff, and the whole thing is a big nothing burger. And sadly, Cushing is barely in it though he’s really good (as usual).

Last but certainly not least is Tender Dracula (1974), a fun slice of French horror comedy that is as beautiful to look at as it is bizarre. My only mild complaint is the film loses a little steam near the end. If the pacing could have kept up all the way to the end, this would be a classic. Two movie studio flunkies are sent out to bring back MacGregor (Cushing), a famous and eccentric horror movie actor who wants to leave the genre behind. Trapped in MacGregor’s spooky castle with two lovely actresses (Nathalie Courval and Miou-Miou) that they brought along to sweeten the deal, these idiots soon find out that they probably should have just left the guy alone.

Tender Dracula is just the kind of sumptuous Euro-horror that I needed in my life, and bonus: it’s actually funny! Alida Valli almost steals the movie from Cushing, who seems to be having a great time. And I don’t think I’ve ever seen French starlet Miou-Miou looking more beautiful than she does here, even with a ridiculous wig on. The artsy tone gets a little lost along the way, but a left field musical number and a truly unusual and fantastical tone help things get (mostly) back on track. This one is an enjoyable romp, but I was left wanting more by the end.

While the “Sherlock Holmes” series looks a little rough due to the source material, the rest of the films in Cushing Curiosities are all very nice to behold. The black and white films all have some traces of scratches or minor film damage, but nothing notable. Even Bloodsuckers, which contains restored scenes, making it the longest cut of the film ever released, looks great!

The extras are where this set really shines. Nearly every single disc has audio commentaries from the likes of authors Jonathan Rigby, Kim Newman, Barry Forshaw, and horror historian Kevin Lyons. There are great interviews with Jean Hartford-Davis (daughter of the director of Bloodsuckers), Françoise Pascal (actress in Bloodsuckers), Pierre Grunstein (director of Tender Dracula), and several more. There are also several audio interviews with Cushing himself talking about his life and his work. My favorite is seeing a newsreel of the actor at home tinkering with his toy soldiers, one of his passions that he took very seriously. All in all, this set will take you HOURS to get through.