After seeing Bill Hader's Vincent Price impression on Saturday Night Live, I had to find the genuine article. And how sad is that? Around this era Price straddled the line between camp and ghoul like nobody's business. Here's a couple of his clips as a pitchman.
We see that Vincent is a little slow on the uptake. He's just tired out from a day of startling and strangling people. On this clip we see how much of a pro Vince is, he drops the novice act and hits his marks like a champ. Well not really. At this point, Price could do this stuff in his sleep--but then again, the task to be spontaneous does seem arduous here. I've got to say, I'm embarrassed for him in the second spot, how silly did this stuff sound.
Milk does a body good. You know what else does a body good? Not eating with Vincent Price. I was back there then and having a meal with Vincent Price never a good idea?. What a pitchman he is here, with that high-pitched whine with those droll, deep intonations. He's so Vincent Pricey and I mean that in a good way. Despite his grandfatherly overtones, Price's creepy factor never leaves and I bet the milk, the swiss cheese that whole sandwich is tarnished with a bunch of "special ingredients" he made in his "drawing room." And I've got to ask, "Where's Melissa?"
Editor's Note: After seeing one too many pics of ol' Vince, I scared myself. That is all...