30's Boris Karloff Part Four

CHARLIE CHAN AT THE OPERA

(1936)

Dir - H. Bruce Humberstone

Overall: MEH

 

The thirteenth Charlie Chan film to star Warner Oland in the lead and the only one to feature Boris Karloff, Charlie Chan at the Opera is quite typical of the series.  Chan is primarily portrayed as a yellowface Sherlock Holmes, noticing and then deciphering clues quicker than any of his causation colleges.  Meanwhile the actual Asian actors are delegated to minor roles, including Keye Luke as Chan's "number one son".  Chan may be the most charming and brilliant character on screen, spouting wise, faux-Chinese slogans at every opportunity, but Oland does play him with a stereotypical, stilted-English accent.  Also, various characters call him Chop Suey or make morphine addict and "all Asians look alike" quips at regular intervals.  While plenty of this is certainly eyebrow raising today, the movie itself is primarily harmless in its intent and has a lighthearted charm despite its ignorance.  It is mostly a treat for Karloff fans as he plays a deranged former opera star and even gets to mime such singing in a few scenes, which is quite a hoot.

 

NIGHT KEY

(1937)

Dir - Lloyd Corrigan

Overall: MEH

The last movie in which Universal billed Boris Karloff solely by his last name, Night Key features him as an elderly, nearly blind inventor whose plans to get back at his corrupt rival backfire with organized crime hi-jinks.  Though the title gadget works on some kind of faux-scientific logic, throwing the sci-fi tag on it let alone a horror one is completely misleading.  Karloff basically uses the contraption to short circuit security alarms without any malicious intent.  It is only once an unexcitable crime boss and his gang get a hold of it and kidnap Karloff's daughter that the movie raises the stakes in a typical, mildly exciting crime story capacity.  The cast does respectable work and director Lloyd Corrigan keeps the sixty-eight minute run time rather agreeable.  This would easily be a forgettable film altogether though if not for Karloff's involvement, merely serving as a contract-filler for the working actor who does his usual, respectable best with the material.  If anything, it showcases him in a largely benevolent light, representing one of the "farthest from a villain" roles that he would ever take on.

 

SON OF FRANKENSTEIN

(1939)

Dir - Rowland V. Lee

Overall: GOOD

The first Universal horror film to go into production following a several year break after the financially less successful Dracula's Daughter, Son of Frankenstein also stands as the final time that Boris Karloff appeared on screen as the monster.  While the fifty-two year old Karloff does his best under an uncomfortable wardrobe, Willis Cooper's screenplay leaves him very little to do in comparisons with the previous two films.  Thankfully, Béla Lugosi steps in as a saving grace, playing the crippled, fiendish Ygor.  Easily one of hist finest performances, Lugosi essentially steals the movie, contorting his body and using his naturally stilted English to ideal effect as the seemingly dim-witted, accused grave-robber out for revenge.  Rowland V. Lee's direction cannot compare to that of James Whale's as the pacing can afford to be a bit snappier at times.  Still, the set design is as German Expressionism-inspired as ever, particularly in the Frankenstein's stark, shadowy, and unusually styled castle.  Most of the heavy lifting falls on the shoulders of Basil Rathbone in the title role and Lionel Atwill as the wooden-armed Inspector Krogh, both of whom do solid work, (even if Rathbone's character comes off as arguably the worst liar in the history of cinema).  While it is overall a step down from the earlier, much beloved and influential entries in the series, this is still very much a success.

30's Boris Karloff Part Three

BEHIND THE MASK

(1932)
Dir - John Francis Dillon
Overall: MEH

Released three months after Frankenstein began making him a household name, Behind the Mask was a run-of-the-mill, Pre-Code crime film where Boris Karloff had a minor role.  Joined once again by Edward Van Sloan who gets a much meatier part as a crooked doctor running a complex drug-smuggling operation, Karloff plays a low-life with only a handful of scenes.  His fate is even left open-ended as the bulk of the film revolves around Jack Holt uncovering the unwholesome doings-a-transpiring as a federal spy.  John Francis Dillon's direction is pretty flat and the film is mostly forgettable. That said, the script by Joe Swerling has some gruesome details to it, at least on paper.  Anyone who gets too close to Van Sloan's diabolical operation finds themselves murdered under an operating table and then their coffin is filled with drugs which are dug back up at a later date.  Unnecessarily convoluted yes, but this does provide the movie with a solid, somewhat disturbing ending, be it one that still ends up as triumphant for the good guys.

THE INVISIBLE RAY

(1936)

Dir - Lambert Killyer

Overall: GOOD

Somewhat rushed into production by Universal after a proposed Bluebeard project between Boris Karloff and Béla Lugosi fell through, the resulting The Invisible Ray perhaps surprisingly is a rather solid mad scientist romp.  Initial director Stuart Walker was replaced by Lambert Killyer near the last minute, as the former had been unhappy with John Colton's script.  Lugosi received second billing as the much more rational, brilliant scientist Dr. Felix Benet while Karloff got the juicier, increasingly insane Dr. Janos Ruhk role.  Thankfully, both horror icons get a handful of scenes together and each actor treats the borderline silly material respectfully.  It has the usual, pseudo-science premise where radiation causes Karloff to glow, kill anyone he touches, and lose his mind to jealous, revenge-seeking villainy in the process.  This provides for some nifty, be it dated visuals and other ridiculousness like a dead man's eyes holding the image of the last thing he saw, (meaning Karloff coming in for the kill), and a the ray of the title being able to both cure blindness and blow up a bolder.  Fun stuff though.

 

THE MAN WHO CHANGED HIS MIND

(1936)

Dir - Robert Stevenson

Overall: GOOD

The first in Boris Karloff's completely unrelated "Man Who..." series of films and one that utilizes an effective pun as a title, The Man Who Changed His Mind was one of two British productions that he made in 1936.  Though he of course became immortalized as the Frankenstein monster, it was really in playing brilliant/doomed scientists that Karloff made his bread and butter throughout his long career.  Here, he is yet another one whose wild experiments are laughed off by his colleagues, making him bitter and mad in the process.  Karloff's Dr. Lawrence does not hold much of the audience's sympathy for long, though this is hardly a problem as he turns in a villainous performance with his usual unwavering class.  Plus he rather redeems himself in the end anyway.  British bombshell Anna Lee, (who would later inspire a song from Dream Theater of all people), also shows up as virtually the only woman with any dialog.  The story is the usual, implausible scientific gobbledy gook nonsense, but at only sixty-six minutes in length, director Robert Stevenson trims any would-be fat out of the proceedings, making this a fun, harmlessly macabre bit of silliness.

30's American Horror Part Six

DRACULA

(1931)

Dir - George Melford

Overall: GOOD

 

For a brief time, Universal chose to shoot back-to-back versions of their own films for Spanish-speaking audiences.  Done with the same working script from Garrett Fort and on the same exact sets as Tod Browning's iconic, English version, George Melford's Dracula provides some improvements over its counterpart while simultaneously being less effective in other areas.  The pluses are mainly due to the supporting cast who inject a noticeable energy over the more restrained performances in Browning's version.  That said, Carlos Villarías, though adequate, is no Béla Lugosi.  Comparing his portrayal to that of the man who has owned the Count Dracula role for nearly a century now is admittingly unfair though.  Dwight Fright was likewise scene-stealing of course, yet Pablo Álvarez Rubio here as Renfield is just as feverishly demented.  Melford creates a solid atmosphere and stages a few moments with some flash, plus the dialog expands upon Fort's screenplay, (which was adapted by Baltasar Fernández Cué), fleshing more of the plot out in the process.  The extra twenty-nine minute running time feels its length though as the pacing becomes too comatose at regular intervals.  Still, this is certainly a solid experiment and for Universal horror completists, it is essential.

 

FREAKS

(1932)

Dir - Tod Browning

Overall: GOOD

 

Probably the boldest and most controversial Pre-Code film from a major production studio, Tod Browning's seminal Freaks, (The Monster Story, Forbidden Love, Nature's Mistakes), remains quite bizarre still today.  Based in part on the short story "Spurs" from Tod Robbins, it was significantly cut and modified before release as test audiences reacted unfavorably to Browning's initial, now lost, ninety-three minute version.  Though the finished film runs just over an hour, it still provides plenty of shocks almost a century later.  This hinges in part due to the audacity of its very existence.  By casting real life circus performers and non-actors with physical deformities, (all of whom deliver odd, almost unintelligible performances that further enhance the noncommercial strangeness), viewers were allowed a glimpse into a world seldom seen.  Yet Browning, (who had worked in a traveling circus before, made The Unknown with Lon Chaney in such a setting, and cast the dwarf Harry Earles in his previous film The Unholy Three), had a natural sympathy for his title charters which comes off on the screen.  Showing them engage in everyday activities while looking out for themselves humanizes them far more than the "normal" characters who end up doing the most despicable, unprovoked things.  Lest we forget the ending which is one of the most memorable and wacky from any early talkie.

ISLAND OF LOST SOULS

(1932)

Dir - Erle C. Kenton

Overall: GOOD

In the same year that they released the quintessential and fantastic Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, Paramount Pictures adapted another famous literary work in H.G. Wells' The Island of Dr. Moreau, here titled The Island of Lost Souls.  Similarly again, this still stands as the strongest cinematic retelling of Wells' source material yet and the one that ushered in the phrases "Are we not men?" and "What is the law?" into the pop culture lexicon.  Speaking of said dialog, Béla Lugosi delivers them with his trademark, Hungarian accent as the Sayer of the Law, sadly a very minor role yet one that he still feverishly sunk his thespian chops into.  As Moreau, Charles Laughton is effortlessly menacing, bouncing between smug, effeminate charm and the type of megalomaniac posturing that only a man who makes humans out of animals would succumb to.  The plot is largely condensed to equip the brisk running time, though the element of the panther woman, (played alluringly by Kathleen Burke), was introduced here as it was not included in Wells' original novel.  It of course registers as timid by today's standards, yet the film pushed various, Pre-Code boundaries with its man playing god proclamations and both females appearing scantily clad at times.  In any event, it is a well-deserved "classic" as they often say.

30's Foreign Horror Part Two

UNHEIMLICHE GESCHICHTEN
(1932)
Dir - Richard Oswald
Overall: MEH

Of interest to German film scholars for featuring Paul Wegener's first speaking role, Unheimliche Geschichten, (Uncanny Stories), is the second such movie directed by Richard Oswald to bare said title.  The first was from 1919 and starred Conrad Veidt, which also utilized a less comedic framework and was comprised of five different stories instead of the mere three seen here.  Oswald's directorial output was quite prolific though he was never seen as a maverick filmmaker for his time period.  That said, his work here is highly expressionistic, with off-kilter camera angles, shadow-drenched lighting, and some elaborate sets thrown into the mix.  While the movie is impressive to look at during regular intervals, the pacing is a bit sluggish and the humorous tone is neither consistent or convincing.  For his part, Wegener makes a fun villain though and the structure is unique for an anthology film as it also manages to follow a singular narrative while fusing its different source material stories together.

 

EL FANTASMA DEL CONVENTO

(1934)

Dir - Fernando de Fuentes

Overall: GOOD

 

A notable, supernatural horror offering from Mexican filmmaker Fernando de Fuentes, El fantasma del convento, (The Ghost of the Convent, The Phantom of the Convent), is straight-forward yet still largely successful at what it attempts.  Fuentes had co-written La Lorona from three years prior, which was historically important yet unremarkable.  Switching the concept from Mexican folklore to one revolving around a mysterious monastery and the out-of-time monks who dwell there, the movie makes splendid use out of its location which was filmed in Tepotzotlán.  Wonderfully atmospheric with subdued performances all around, the most possible mileage is gotten out of the imposing, dimly-lit, cobweb-ridden, labyrinth-like setting.  A couple of convincing, mummified corpses make their way into the proceedings as well.  Though the story is clever enough in its simplicity, it does not quite have enough juice to remain as engaging as it should.  The small cast of characters spend the entire movie discussing how strange everything is and a large expository dump midway through does very little to break up the monotony afterwards.  Still, it is as fine a foreign export from the period as there gets and thankfully one that has survived all these decades later.

SONG AT MIDNIGHT
(1937)
Dir - Ma-Xu Weibang
Overall: MEH

In many ways a traditionally Western-style horror film with the added ingredient of practically comical levels of the kind of melodrama that is inherent in Asian cinema, Song at Midnight, (Yèbàn gēshēng, Midnight Song, Singing at Midnight), also serves as the first Chinese horror movie and one of if not the first proper horror musical ever made.  A purposely political film that was tailor made to skirt past Kuomintang censorship, it was a considerably popular work for its time as it was released only a few months before the outbreak of the Second Sino-Japanese War.  Melding such left-wing, revolutionist leanings with what is essentially a remake of The Phantom of the Opera is a curious and interesting move, particularly for the time period.  Decades later though, the movie shows its age due to its sluggish pacing and exasperatingly over the top dramatics. There is some horror window dressing like a closed down theater which looks like it belongs in Tod Browning's Dracula and a final showdown involving an angry mob right out of James Whale's Frankenstein, but the story itself feels enormously padded and the nearly two-hour running time is quite unforgiving.  It would be remade a number of times yet for historical significance, (dated flaws and all), this is certainly the most noteworthy interpretation.

30's Foreign Horror Part One

VAMPYR

(1932)

Dir - Carl Theodor Dreyer

Overall: GOOD

 

One of the most lauded of early, post-silent horror as well as one of several defining works from Danish filmmaker Carl Theodor Dreyer, Vampyr, (Vampyr – Der Traum des Allan Gray), is singularly exceptional.  It is in part a hold-over from the silent era as Dreyer had intended it to be wordless.  Yet in order to compete properly with the advent of talkies, he reluctantly included sparse dialog, shooting three different versions for French, German, and English speaking audiences.  At the same time though, the film still utilizes intertitles heavily and to further bypass the need for dialog, it is very deliberately paced.  Also by shooting through an actual gauze to create a haze-like atmosphere, the ethereal quality is even more apparent.  By being so purposely understated then, it is far from heart-racing, yet Dreyer and cinematographer Rudolph Maté keep the camera movements engaging while expressive shadows and superimpositions allow for the foreboding tone to remain unchecked.  Though a narrative is certainly present and it lifts leisurely from two Sheridan Le Fanu stories, the film is primarily a surreal, macabre mood piece.  For those whose patience and admiration for such things is intact, this is a rewarding undertaking that is well-deserving of its reputation.

LA LLORONA
(1933)
Dir - Ramón Peón
Overall: MEH

Regarded as the first Mexican horror film, La Llorona, (The Crying Woman), is noteworthy for its historical importance and nothing else.  Serving as an origin story of sorts for the titular supernatural character, it dedicates a large chunk of its meager running time to period piece flashbacks, yet neither that or the main, present day story present anything remotely interesting.  This is mostly due to the approach though.  There are some minor thematic attempts at creating a spooky atmosphere with ghostly howling and close-ups of hands, but stagnant shots of characters standing around and talking is the primary focus.  The film drags heavily before it even gets going, indulging straight away in a children's birthday party that lasts only a few minutes yet feels several hours long.  Such laborious pacing is persistent throughout and regrettably, Peón puts as much charisma behind the lens as his merely competent cast does in front of it.  There is a mystery present yet it barely shows itself, only emerging by the final act.  By that point, the back and forth narrative and unremarkable visual presentation leaves very little if anything to be engaged with.

FÄHRMANN MARIA

(1936)

Dir - Frank Wisbar

Overall: MEH

Made during the National Socialist regime in Germany before the outbreak of World War II, Fährmann Maria, (Ferryman Maria), is only a quasi-horror film even by the most generous of standards.  It is actually a simple, highly unremarkable love story with some mild propagandist leniencies thrown in for good measure.  Future Fireside Theatre creator Frank Wisbar showcases some rather humdrum skills behind the lens here, even going as far as to lumber the pace along with a scene in which dialog is exchanged inside of a building where the camera forgets to follow the characters inside.  While a mysterious figure who seems to be a stand-in for Death does appear and one or two haunting images find their way into the proceedings, the incessant, stock musical score and comatose plot wield very little in the way of engaging atmosphere or interest.  Wisbar remade the film in America nine years later as a more genre-pleasing affair, under the much more pizazz-worthy title Strangler of the Swamp no less.  The original version here sadly does not even offer up the amount of excitement that a run-of-the-mill B-movie would produce though.