A consistently intelligent (or at least bright), coherently constructed comedy that is on occasion a rather pointed critique of the American education system in the…
The horror comics of the early 1950s etched themselves upon my mind in a series of disconnected scenes: a hand pushing up from a grave, a grinning skull with rubies for eyes, a little boy who didn't like cats. I devoured this stuff, and after a while I began to realize that some of it was superior to the rest. The titles published by E. C. Publications were more dramatically drawn, scarier and unsurpassed in the department of divine retribution.
Six months or a year after I discovered "Tales from the Crypt" and the other E. C. comics, they were taken off the stands during a national anti-comics frenzy. Dr. Frederick Wertham's "Seduction of the Innocent" charged that kiddies were becoming sadists because of horror tales, and overnight we were flooded with talking magpies.
And so, alas, my career as a sadistic madman was nipped in the bud. It was not until 1969 that Richard Shickel's "The Disney Version" fearlessly exposed the sadomasochistic tendencies of Mickey Mouse and friends, and by then it was too late. The E. C. comics had become collector's items.
There the story might have rested, if it weren't for Milton Subotsky, British producer of horror movies and old-time E. C. fan. Subotsky bought the movie rights for all the E. C. horror titles from their publisher, William M. Gaines, and "Tales from the Crypt" is the first film made from the material.