Dracula

DRACULA

(1931)

Dir - Tod Browning

Overall: GREAT

 

Universal's Dracula is of course not the first horror movie ever made, and it owes much of its look and mood to German Expressionism, not least of all from F. W. Murnau's earlier unauthorized adaptation of Bram Stoker's novel, Nosferatu: A Symphony of Horror.  Dracula's cinematographer Karl Freund had even collaborated together with Murnau seven years previously on The Last Laugh.  Yet all of the macabre cinematic works that proceeded Dracula, (several like the aforementioned Nosferatu being masterpieces in their own right), were setting the stage for what Universal would do here.  That is to say that this is the granddaddy of horror talkies, and a film that solidified the genre's popularity as well as nearly a century's worth of on screen vampire iconography.  So much came from the movie that we can easily take it for granted.  It is also easy to look past the film's shortcomings since it remains an atmospheric triumph, not to mention the fact that it features one of the screen's most memorable performances, that of Béla Lugosi's in the title role.
 
As the world entered the 1930s, was knee-deep in the Great Depression, and sound films had just recently become the norm, Universal's then boss Carl Laemmle had no interest or faith in anything "horror" related.  Thankfully, he had delegated his son Carl Laemmle Jr. as studio head around this time, and Junior was ambitious to say the least about bringing Stoker's novel, (as well as Hamilton Deane and John L. Balderston's stage play of the same name), to the screen.  He purchased the rights to both in order to hold a monopoly on the property, and originally envisioned it as an A-production full of various locations, sets, extras, costumes, and one that would adapt most aspects of Stoker's source material.  The initial, (and unused), script by Louis Bromfield even featured the idea that Dracula would be played by two different actors, one old and gnarly looking, another younger and more dashing as his blood intake increased.  Yet because Papa Laemmle had reservations, (and that whole global recession thing was going on), everything was scaled back.  This in turn made the finished product more accommodating to Deane and Balderston's play, which streamlined many of the original story's aspects and allowed for a significant portion of it to be shot as a drawing-room drama.

"Fuck Dracula" - Carl Laemmle (citation needed).

Because the film was ultimately done in this matter, it invites criticism whenever we cut away from Lugosi to let the rest of the cast talk in unassuming wide or medium shots in heavily-lit interiors.  While many can argue that this slows down the pacing and provides an unfortunate contrast to the fantastic and eerie mood setting in the first act, such a breather is far from a bore.  This is for two reasons.  One, Lugosi never stays off screen for too long, and he is so effortlessly dynamic that one is easily captivated by him when he appears again and again, even when it is in one of those heavily-lit interiors.  The other reason that the movie maintains momentum once the setting switches from Transylvania and the doomed schooner to contemporary England and Carfax Abbey is because the film as a whole does not feature a musical soundtrack.
 
This was both a cost-cutting measure at the time and a product of those times.  Since talkies were a new medium in many respects, the industry was still working out the kinks just to get dialog recorded and mixed properly.  Adding a musical score to the proceedings would complicate matters, as well as inflate the already tight budgets being utilized.  This mattered because again, the Great Depression.  In only a few short years, full-fledged dramatic scores would become, (and stay), the norm.  1933's RKO's King Kong demonstrated this with a vengeance, per example.  Yet in 1931, restraint was mercifully utilized, and Dracula, Frankenstein, and Paramount's Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde all benefited from the minimal amount of music that was thrown onto them.

 

Just imagine how much Christopher Nolan would ruin such a moment if he were behind the lens and drowned everything out with Hans Zimmer's help.

 

As would also be the case in Universal's Murders in the Rue Morgue and The Mummy, (both released the following year), an excerpt from Act II of Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky's "Swan Lake" is utilized over the opening credits, which provides a romantic introduction that simultaneously hints at the sinister.  Some Wagner and Schubert sections briefly pop up as diegetic music during the opera scene where Dracula introduces himself to his new neighbors, but otherwise, the film's soundtrack is exclusively made up of set noise and whatever the actors are saying.  This gives it an intimacy that conventionally scored movies by design can never have.  We lean in during every quiet pause, during every transition, and all without any orchestral hoopla dictating what we are supposed to feel.  Freund's visuals do that for us, as do the actor's portrayals, some who lay on the appropriate amount of melodrama, some who are more reserved, some who provide a few comic relief moments, and of course Lugosi who seems either plucked out of another planet or from a bygone era.
 
Everything has been said about the Hungarian thespian's performance here, the one that made him a household name, typecast him, and solidified his Hollywood legacy.  Lugosi had been working on the stage and in films for nearly fifteen years already once he landed the title role here at the age of forty-nine.  His acting chops well-tuned then, (not to mention the fact that he had already been portraying the Count on stage for more than two years by the time that shooting on the film began), Lugosi also had the advantage of being from the same area of the native country, (roughly), where Dracula was from.  Also, English was a second language to him.  In other words, this made Lugosi both look and sound the part, and boy did he do both.

 

None more Dracula than he.

Consider that before this movie was made, Dracula was just another book, one that was popular yet hardly in the zeitgeist.  Max Schreck's turn in Nosferatu was worlds removed from Lugosi's, as Murnau chose to design him as a rodent-faced monstrosity and someone who could only lurk in the shadows and emerge at night.  Which is to say someone who could never suavely charm the pants off the English public while walking amongst them.  Lugosi on the other hand utilized his own face, his own voice, and his own stilted English, not to mention his own intentionally patient mannerisms.  Blessed with a movie star face to begin with, his natural good looks coupled with that unearthly delivery of his dialog all enhanced his intimidating European nobleman swagger.  Lugosi had charisma in spades, and it was never suited better than as the evil, sexy, determined, and fascinating Count.  He could hypnotize you by his piercing stare, (heightened by the over-the-top eye light that Freund routinely gives him), make you hang on his every word as he slowly and almost phonetically delivered them, and also looked like a man that would take over a room just by entering it.
 
It was not the Dracula of Stoker's novel who changed appearances, had a thick flowing mustache, and spoke without an accent, but the cinema is not the books.  Lugosi made the role his own, (to coin a cliche), and no matter how many other reinterpretations of the source material or screen variants of the Count we have had in the near century since this film came out, Lugosi's voice, look, and behavior is still what most people associate with the character.  That is one hell of an accomplishment, one that few other actors have been able to do with any other role.  Sure, the flat-topped, bolts-in-the-neck, eyes barely open appearance that Boris Karloff had as the Monster in Frankenstein likewise solidified the look of THAT character, but that was mostly due to make-up man Jack Pierce.  Lugosi's Dracula is all him, and it is a wonder to think that as a mere bit player who was little known in Hollywood, he had to lobby for a part that Universal originally considered numerous other actors for.  How different Sesame Street and breakfast packaging would be if they went that route instead, one can only ponder.

 

Somehow Paul Muni would just look all wrong on a cereal box.

 

Of course Dracula is not limited to but one scene-stealing performer.  Dwight Frye was another character actor who had a fine career on the stage when he scored the role of Renfield here, and he was another character actor that just like Lugosi, did such a good job that casting agents from that point on could only see him in such a part.  Frye's transformation from a polite and effeminate real estate agent that is unfazed by superstitious warnings or the dilapidated state of Dracula's castle to that of a wide-eyed, pathetic-yet-terrifying, cackling, bug-eating lunatic is one of cinema's most memorable.  Frye is more overtly creepy than Lugosi, the latter utilizing his foreign magnetism to get in close with his victims while Frye's Renfield is about as far removed from charming as you can get.  Yet just as Lugosi defined the on-screen vampire for eons to come, Frye did the same with the demented stooge, delivering a wacky and heightened performance, elevated that much more due to the overall low-key, (and again, music-less), presentation.
 
Though Tod Browning was the official director on Dracula, accounts vary as to how involved or even enthusiastic he was about the assignment.  Actor David Manners, (playing John Harker more as a dead fish than anything), went on record as saying that he barely recalled Browning even being around, and that he took any direction that he got from cinematographer Freund.  Browning was no slouch from behind the director's chair mind you, having done a number of successful collaborations with Lon Chaney who was the initial choice to play Dracula until his quick demise due to lung cancer permanently squashed that idea.  Browning would also go on to make Freaks of course, a film that was infamous for decades and tanked his career, yet also one that has been rightfully reappraised as his most personal, quirky, and disturbing.  Yet as many from the era were, Browning was more comfortable with silent films and allegedly, he was not fond of elaborate shots or non-stationary camera set ups.  We can conclude then that the film's several flowing camera maneuvers were the work of Feund, a director of photography who was literally German and knew the ins and outs of Expressionism.

 

Because any many who could also shoot I Love Lucy clearly knew a thing or two about Gothic horror.

The first act of Dracula which takes place in Transylvania is where Freud shines best, and it is easily the film's most memorable, establishing a mysterious aura during Renfield's trek through the mountains before we visit the catacombs where the Count, his brides, some bugs, and even armadillos emerge from their coffins.  Then of course we see the outside and inside of Castle Dracula itself, a crumbling abode that set the template for every creepy and ancient horror location from there on out.  The horror eye candy is popping off the screen during these moments, and when Lugosi finally emerges with his illuminated eyes before bidding Renfield welcome and walking through a spider web off screen, the film has already established its legacy for uncanny mood-setting.
 

Later on, various other shots are sprinkled throughout that equally evoke such spookiness.  Renfield cackling with his locked grin as he is discovered with the cargo on the schooner, Lugosi emerging from his boxes of native soil underground as wolves howl in the distance, the strange look in Helen Chandler's eyes when she is under Dracula's spell and about to pounce on Manners, Lugosi slowly maneuvering towards Frances Dade as she slumbers, Renfield crawling towards the fainted maid, etc.  In contrast, we even get a few nyuck nyucks delivered by Charles K. Gerrard as the mental hospital orderly who is constantly confounded by Renfield's bug-munching antics, though such moments of deliberate comedy are minuscule and underplayed.  This shows a level of determination on producer Laemmle Jr.'s part to make this a "serious" picture that had a paramount supernatural theme, not one that would be undone Scooby-Doo style in the finale to let audiences relax, (see Browning and Lugosi's London After Midnight remake Mark of the Vampire from 1935).  Count Dracula was the real deal when it came to being a vampire, and the events of the film can afford only sporadic chuckles along the way to emphasis this.

 

A comedic duo for the ages.

There are several lines of dialog in the film that were exclusive to it at the time, not found in Stoker's novel yet lingering in Dracula mythos ever since.  "For one who has not lived even a single lifetime, you're a wise man, Van Helsing", "Rats! Rats! Rats! Thousands! Millions of them!", "There are far worse things awaiting man than death", and "I never drink...wine", are a handful that stem from Garrett Fort's screenplay.  Also, the scene where Renfield pricks his finger upon meeting Dracula in his home and the Count zeros in on the wound with a noticeable blood-lust in his eyes comes from Murnau's Nosferatu, not the novel.  Like in the Deane and Balderston play, the plot changes much to compact things, but the small scale production benefits from these tweaks.  It even afforded Universal to make a Spanish language version at the same time, shot at night and with the same script and sets yet with an entirely different crew and cast.  The Spanish Dracula is nearly thirty minutes longer and has its own advantages over Browning's, (the shot construction is more elaborate, the sexuality more pronounced, the plot more fleshed-out), and much of the cast deliver equally solid if not superior performances, sans Carlos Villarías who does fine work as the Count, yet obviously had no prayer of holding a candle to what Lugosi did in the role.
 
As stated, Dracula maintains a level of chilled eeriness throughout, not just during its opening and most explicitly gothic sequences.  The fact that so much of it unfolds silently only draws the viewer further in, Browning, (or whoever one wants to credit), being able to evoke subtle suspense without the use of bombastic music or hectic editing.  Dracula only runs for seventy-four minutes, and the spry running time means that there is little room for dilly-dallying.  Even when Edward Van Sloan is delivering his stern exposition as to the nature of vampires, (information that is obviously redundant to modern viewers), Lugosi and an overall sense of dread is never too far away.  There are precious few horror films from this era that were allowed to permeate with such dread sans a score cluttering things up, but Dracula was not only the first, but also the best of them.  The genre would likely be different without it, yet thankfully it is as influential as it is enjoyable all these decades later.

 

By all means Mr. Lugosi, bid us welcome.

American Silent Horror Part Three

THE LOST WORLD

(1925)

Dir - Harry O. Hoyt

Overall: MEH

 

A historically important Hollywood spectacle from the silent era, The Lost World was the first full-length film to utilize stop-motion animation, which set the course for King Kong eight years later as well as several other movies that utilized such special effects to depict over-sized monsters doing over-sized monster things.  Based off of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's 1912 novel of the same name, the author himself appears on screen to introduce a tale that would be told in variations for decades to come.  Doyle's Professor Challenger character ventures into the Amazon to prove the existence of prehistoric beasts roaming freely there, eventually ending up back in London with a Brontosaurus to silence the haters.  Special effects man Willis O'Brien would later and even more famously work on King Kong, and while the creature design and execution here is primitive by later standards, (plus we get some actors in primate costumes, for what it is worth), this was impressive for its time and holds up well enough as a curiosity.  Sadly, the rudimentary story cannot withstand the long stretches where dinosaurs are not duking it out with each other, plus Wallace Beery is the only actor here who exudes any sense of charisma as the fearless adventurer/ridiculously-bearded Challenger.

 

THE BELLS

(1926)

Dir - James Young
Overall: GOOD
 
Notable for being one of the few surviving silent films to contain a billed performance from Boris Karloff, The Bells is an adaptation of the original French stage play Le Juif Polonais, as well as its English translated version which had both been brought to the screen four times before.  Featuring heavyweight Lionel Barrymore in the lead, it features a familiar variant of psychological guilt manifesting itself as the supernatural, this time concerning Barrymore's newly-appointed burgomaster who murdered a Jewish traveler in order to steal his gold so that he could repay a debt, allow his daughter to marry the man of her choosing, and to further his own political ambitions.  Barrymore's doomed character is painted in a sympathetic light since he resulted to violence out of alcohol-infused desperation, plus he is also immediately tormented by "the bells" that his victim rattled at the time of death.  Karloff's role is small yet significant as he dons a garb and persona that is deliberately close to Werner Krauss's in The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari, playing an intimidating hypnotist that boasts of being able to get any criminal to confess their secrets.  Speaking of Caligari, director James Young and cinematographer L. William O'Connell indulge in some German Expressionism here or there, making this a striking enough Hollywood alternative to the usual type of Edgar Allan Poe-styled, conscience-ravished melodrama.

THE THIRTEENTH CHAIR
(1929)
Dir - Tod Browning
Overall: MEH

Initially released in both sound and silent versions, The Thirteenth Chair was the first of three films that director Tod Browning and actor Béla Lugosi made together.  As was the case with other early whodunits from the era, it was based on a stage play, namely Bayard Veiller's of the same name which was brought to the screen two other times as well.  Besides Lugosi's involvement in the story's meatiest role as the famed inspector that arrives on the scene in order to crack the mystery, this is formulaic and talky stuff that is handled with no flare from behind the lens by Browning.  The only moment that comes close to being visually enticing is when Margaret Wycherly's Irish medium, (reprising her stage role), insists on the lights being turned off during a phony seance, a seance which results in yet another murder after the one that she was already brought in to help solve.  This happens again during the finale when the culprit is at last revealed, but the plot is equally convoluted and sterile.  It is nothing more than competent actors melodramatically talking on some fancy-decorated sets, with no action, no atmosphere, and little humor.  Still, Lugosi fans would be wise to check it out since he goes hard in a dialog-heavy performance that represents one of his precious few before he was typecast in horror throughout the rest of his career.

1930s Bela Lugosi Part Three

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 the source material 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 minor role yet one that he still sinks 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 condensed to accommodate 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.  Timid by today's standards of course, but the film also pushed various Pre-Code boundaries with its man playing god proclamations and both females appearing scantily clad at times.

 

THE MYSTERY OF THE MARY CELESTE

(1935)

Dir - Denison Clift

Overall: MEH

 

One of the earliest Hammer productions to dip its toes into horror that was also released in shorter form by twenty minutes in the US, The Mystery of the Mary Celeste, (Phantom Ship), is also the only one to feature Béla Lugosi who made two back-to-back films that year in England.  Based on the 1872 case of the merchant brigantine Mary Celeste which was found adrift in the Atlantic Ocean with all of its crew missing, the story is given the melodramatic treatment by screenwriter Charles Larkworthy and director Denison Clift, this serving as the latter's final effort from behind the lens.  We are introduced to a ragtag group of weathered seaman who drink, sing, and argue with each other, as well as the Captain and his bride-to-be who all set sail on the ship of the title with an especially rough for ware, one-armed Lugosi joining the party as well.  The horror icon is top-billed yet only has a minor part, be it a significant one when the mystery is finally solved as to who is offing everyone on their doomed voyage.  Lugosi has the skill to elevate what is otherwise a cruddy and forgettable B-movie, but sadly, he can only do so much with his minimal amount of screen time and a story that fails to make any of its plot points or characters compelling.

 

THE PHANTOM CREEPS

(1939)

Dir - Ford Beebe/Saul A. Goodkind

Overall: MEH

The edited down, feature-length version of Universal's twelve part serial The Phantom Creeps arrived for television audiences ten years after it was originally made, trimming all of the fat and then some to condense its original four and a half hour running time down to a brisk seventy-eight minutes.  With no seconds to lose, we are thrust right into Lugosi's mad scientist lab where he unveils his giant killer robot and various other weaponized experiments.  Characters come and go without any proper introduction and a slew of camera swipes and the like help bulldoze things along, giving the whole thing a kinetic pace that is far from the usual for a talky B-movie.  There are some primitive special effects involving Lugosi's invisibility belt, stock footage, few establishing shots, toy airplanes crashing, and an incessant musical score, but ultimately it all proves that this was better suited in its original form, meaning taken in at twenty-odd minute incriminates.  Stretched out and strung together, it comes off as haphazard and mindlessly boring, despite the energetic presentation and Lugosi chewing the scenery in his revenge/taking over the world/whatever scheme.  At least the robot monster has a memorable look to it and one that perpetual Lugosi fan Rob Zombie would utilize at various times throughout his career.

1940s Bela Lugosi Part Four

FRANKENSTEIN MEETS THE WOLF MAN

(1943)

Dir - Roy William Niell

Overall: MEH

Though it has a fine performance from Lon Chaney Jr. reprising his role as Lawrence Talbot, Frankenstein Meets the Wolf Man marks the moment where Universal's monster movie sequels finally stretched themselves to a breaking point.  As a direct follow-up to The Wolf Man and the fifth Frankenstein film, Lionel Atwill shows up playing another character for the third time in a row, Evelyn Ankers is recast as she played two different characters in each franchise before, and in his last credited screen performance, Dwight Fry even pops in as a nameless villager.  This would mark the only time that Béla Lugosi put on the Frankenstein monster makeup yet infamously, all of his dialog was removed in editing and his stumbling performance with his arms outstretched made the actor primarily look preposterous as any mention of the creature being blind was left for movie patrons who remembered that last minute plot detail from The Ghost of Frankenstein to understand.  The script from Curt Siodmak, (also returning from The Wolf Man), combines two timelines that are decades apart and allows for a "sane" doctor to randomly decide that he must see the monster's full power before willingly blowing up a dam that will surely destroy the entire village below it.  Meanwhile, nobody thinks to destroy Frankenstein's diary or any of his lab equipment and characters miraculously cross paths with each other as if the entire continent of Europe exists within a few blocks from each other.

ZOMBIES ON BROADWAY

(1945)

Dir - Gordon Douglas

Overall: MEH

 

While Boris Karloff got to work with A-listers Bud Abbott and Lou Costello in two different films for Universal Pictures, poor, poor Béla Lugosi got stuck with RKO's lame-brained imitations Alan Carney and Wally Brown.  The first of their pairings Zombies on Broadway, (Loonies on Broadway), also has the odd distinction of being an unofficial sequel to producer Val Lewton's I Walked with a Zombie as it takes place on the same island and features calypso singer Sir Lancelot reprising his role.  Basically, if you were to imagine Abbot and Costello without any of their comedic timing or charisma, then Carney and Brown would be the result.  On paper, the script from Robert Kent and Lawrence Kimble goes through the usual hi-jinks, except all of the jokes and anything remotely clever are removed.  Lugosi of course plays another mad scientist and of course is barely on screen.  He does get to goof around with a monkey though for whatever that is worth.  There is generally nothing worse than a comedy that is not funny and look no further than exhibit A right here for proof.

SCARED TO DEATH

(1947)

Dir - Christy Cabanne

Overall: MEH

Though it is historically notable as the only color film in which Béla Lugosi received a staring role, Scared to Death is one of a handful of dopey comedy thrillers that the actor appeared in merely to pay the bills. An uninspired whodunit based off of Murder on the Operating Table by Frank Orsino, the film has one obnoxiously unfunny, ham-fisted character after the other, several of whom fumble their lines in a way that makes Lugosi look both overqualified and sad to be a part of such tripe.  Hack-meister Christy Cabanne directed about nine-hundred and eighty-seven forgettable movies going back to the early silent days and this was one of his last.  Honestly, anyone could be behind the lens though as it is just a series of characters walking into one room and talking before walking into the next room and talking some more.  Meanwhile, a mask appears in a window, interrupting said talking scenes over and over again while the soundtrack loudly blares an ominous trumpet noise.  This is also one of a handful of times that dwarf actor Angelo Rossitto and Lugosi worked together, the former basically playing a human version of a pet monkey which is as "charming" as it sounds.

1940s Bela Lugosi Part Three

THE BLACK CAT

(1941)

Dir - Albert S. Rogell

Overall: MEH

 

Universal's sub-par, unofficial version of Paramount's The Cat and the Canary remake from two years prior The Black Cat hits all of the well-worn "old dark house" gags to rather yawn-inducing effects.  Baring the same title as the remarkably different and remarkably superior 1934 film which also stared Béla Lugosi, the only other thing that the two have in common is that neither of them have anything whatsoever to do with their Edgar Allan Poe-authored "source material".  As far as what movies it does have something in common with, that would be every other film regularly produced at the time that was ridden with "stuffy, desperate people going after a rich relative's will" and whodunit cliches.  The movie's lack of originality is one problem, the other is that the comedy elements around Hugh Herbert's character fall regularly flat.  Why anyone thought it would be funny instead of annoying to watch him ruin furniture and antiques while saying that they will be worth more that way only several hundred times is anybody's guess.  Lugosi is wasted as a red herring groundskeeper, but Basil Rathbone is ideally cast enough as a sleazy, back-stabbing husband at least.

THE GHOST OF FRANKENSTEIN

(1942)

Dir - Erle C. Kenton

Overall: GOOD

 

The minor yet noticeable quality slip continues with The Ghost of Frankenstein, the fourth straight sequel and last before Universal would start adopting its much more ham-fisted, monster-mash policy.  Boris Karloff retired from the role that made him famous, with the studio's new leading horror man Lon Chaney Jr. admirably stepping in.  Béla Lugosi is once again in top form as the fiendish cripple Ygor, who miraculously survived the previous Son of Frankenstein with no explanation bothered to be given.  The script in general is honestly pretty lazy, recycling the last film with yet ANOTHER brilliant doctor who is yet ANOTHER offspring of the initial monster-making Frankenstein.  I guess these guys never decide to to into anthropology or something and they just never bothered to mention him before.  Though the movie suffers a bit from its re-trotted plot, (a plot that has a number of holes present for the audience to forgive), it is still a classy presentation with sincere performances all around.  B-director Erle C. Kenton, (who would go on to do House of Frankenstein and House of Dracula), is hardly an auteur, but he does deliver a tightly-paced final product that manages to go through the motions in an entertaining enough way to be memorable.

VOODOO MAN

(1944)

Dir - William Beaudine

Overall: MEH

The penultimate film that Béla Lugosi made for Poverty Row studio Monogram Pictures, Voodoo Man is about what one would expect.  Lugosi is a man who practices voodoo.  Even by the fairly low standards of such movies, this is a significantly lousy one.  William Beaudine's direction could not be more flat and uninspired.  The most stylistically exciting choice that he makes is to cut between two scenes on occasion while using a fade.  John Carradine and George Zucco also appear and the former is pretty embarrassing as a dim-witted henchman.  Usually, these D-budget yawns could at least come to life on occasion due to Lugosi's presence, at least if his role was significant enough, (which it often was not).  Though he is accurately top-billed here, the actor noticeably looks to be phoning it in.  Granted the material is quite poor and even an actor with Lugosi's occasional showmanship can only do so much with it.  Still, he understandably puts in the minimal effort this time, resulting in one of the most laughably under dramatic death scenes likely ever filmed.  The whole affair is about as lifeless as they come though and while Lugosi has much worse in his filmography, this one easily stands as a very forgettable one.

1930s 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.

1930s 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

Rushed into production by Universal after a proposed Bluebeard project between Boris Karloff and Béla Lugosi fell through, the resulting The Invisible Ray surprisingly is a 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 more rational and 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, plus 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 unrelated "Man Who..." series of films and one that utilizes an effective pun as a title, The Man Who Changed His Mind, (The Man Who Lived Again), 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 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 and harmlessly macabre bit of silliness.

1950s Ed Wood

BRIDE OF THE MONSTER
(1955)
Overall: MEH

The first in Ed Wood's unofficial Kelton Trilogy was Bride of the Monster.  Never again would Wood have such a modest, (yet still relatively small), budget at his disposal and never again would he come close to making a borderline competent, "real movie".  The dialog is silly yet not altogether embarrassing, the acting occasionally stiff yet mostly acceptable, the pacing slow yet not detrimentally so, and the script which was revised by Wood after screenwriter Alex Gordon had initially worked on one by the title "The Atomic Monster" is as half-baked as any other schlocky, Poverty Row film of its era.  Make no mistake, there is still plenty of, well, mistakes such as a laughably ineffective, giant squid monster, poorly used stock footage, (what Wood film would be complete without that?), and a lack of continuity editing.  Still, all of these ingredients were much more integral with other works in his filmography.  Bela Lugosi in his last speaking role is understandably uneven given such goofy material, bouncing between being surprisingly moving to accidentally ridiculous often in a single scene.  Speaking of unexpected, Wood actually gets some actual intended laughs here or there, though the unintentional ones naturally reign supreme.

PLAN 9 FROM OUTER SPACE
(1959)
Overall: MEH

The most famously bad movie ever made and the one that Ed Wood's legacy is most unavoidably synonymous with, Plan 9 from Outer Space is the benchmark of unintentional hilariousness and filmmaking 101 ineptitude.  So much has been written and said about Wood's ultimate anti-masterpiece that it has become the stuff of Hollywood legend and in that regard, the insurmountable hype surrounding its terribleness is both fully warranted and worthy of some dispute.  Some of the most obvious technical mistakes such as visible microphones and accidental, visible props are actually due to the aspect ratio being changed when Wood had initially framed his shots accurately for theatrical, widescreen purposes.  As half of the actors are competent ones, (meaning those who are not part of Wood's inner circle of weirdos who had never acted before), their performances are fine and there is certainly something admirable to be said of Wood's far-reaching, genre mash-up intentions.  The execution of his ideas combined with his complete inability to disguise the microscopic budget though are what make it such a laughably enduring trainwreck.  The dialog, pacing, costumes, sets, "special effects", editing, and mish-mash of random stock and Bela Lugosi footage, (let us forget his ridiculous fake Shemp stand-in), are what truly make it the laughing stock that it is.

NIGHT OF THE GHOULS
(1959)
Overall: MEH

The last horror movie Ed Wood was ever allowed to make and to date the last one released, (it did not see the light of day until 1984 when the film lab that owned the print was finally paid off), Night of the Ghouls acts as a somewhat official sequel to Bride of the Monster and to a lesser extent Plan 9 from Outer Space.  It features many of the same actors, some of whom are playing the same characters or variations of them, and tone-wise it is as technically inept and bizarrely scripted and presented as the rest of Wood's outrageous material from the era.  He is still using stock footage and cobbling together scenes from other projects of his, (the unused TV pilot The Final Curtain in this case), he still has no idea how to maintain even a moderately acceptable pacing, still feels the need to have almost incessant narration that further emphasizes his specific knack for comically asinine dialog, and a fair number of scenes look as if another take or two where necessary to iron the kinks out.  With Ed Wood movies, the most memorable moments are always such because of unintended reasons and Night of the Ghouls could have the most hilariously on drugs seance scenes ever filmed with toy skeletons sitting at the table, someone in a white bed sheet making spooky noises and swaying side to side, a trumpet on a string, and a random black guy making googly faces while an actor in a coffin fools his loved ones into thinking he actually is their loved one.  It is still way too slow to really recommend, but otherwise it is Wood firing on all cylinders.

1930s Bela Lugosi Part Two

CHANDU THE MAGICIAN
(1932)
Dir - William Cameron Menzies/Marcel Varnel
Overall: MEH

Based on the radio play of the same name which was broadcast while the film was produced, Chandu the Magician is a highly silly, melodramatic adventure yarn with Bela Lugosi in a textbook villain role.  Lugosi would actually play Chandu himself, (that rare moment where he was the hero), in the twelve part film serial The Return of Chandu which would begin getting released in various formats a mere two years later as well.  Here, he gets to chew the scenery as a one-dimensional megalomaniac who wants to use a death ray to wipe out most of the population while enslaving the rest.  The childish, cartoony plot is not limited to Lugosi's mad Egyptian Roxor's grand, unnecessarily thwarted James Bond villain schemes; it is all full of predictable set pieces, over the top dialog, stupid henchmen, arbitrary magical powers granted to Edmond Lowe's fabulously mustached title-Yogi, and unfunny comic relief in the form of his useless, alcoholic servant Miggles, (Herbert Mundin).  From a technical standpoint though, directors William Cameron Menzies and Marcel Varnel utilize a boatload of then impressive visual tricks, special effects, camera movements, miniatures and the like.  It is all pretty damn hokey otherwise.

NIGHT OF TERROR
(1933)
Dir - Benjamin Stoloff
Overall: WOOF

Bela Lugosi returns with a turban in Night of Terror, (He Lived to Kill, Terror in the Night), one of the more laughably atrocious entries in his filmography.  It is truly a shame that a mere two years after his breakout turn in Universal's seminal Dracula, Lugosi was in enough financial troubles to accept a roll in such preposterous nonsense.  Surprisingly distributed by Columbia Pictures even though it has all of the hallmarks of a Poverty Row joint, there is an "Oh lawd, I is scared!" racist comic relief character, a rich white woman who does an impression of him, an unfunny wiseguy hero who stalks and forcibly makes out with a female who vocally rejects him because isn't that charming and hilarious, a seance for absolutely no reason, and a guy who buries himself alive in an unattended grave because science experiments, all while a maniac is picking people off on his property.  Lugosi's part is thankfully minor, but he still somewhat embarrasses himself while overacting against a cast of people either doing the same thing or not acting at all.  This includes the token black guy who cannot stop stuttering because isn't that funny and adorable too?

THE DARK EYES OF LONDON
(1939)
Dir - Walter Summers
Overall: MEH

Another dull entry into Bela Lugosi's catalog where he had already been well typecast as a mad villain, The Dark Eyes of London, (released as The Human Monster in the U.S. the following year), was a British production from the bit players Monogram Pictures.  Though Lugosi is typically enjoyable and gets to stretch out somewhat in a dual roll that is rather easily spotted even though his voice is dubbed, the plot offers little suspense and more steady boredom than it can afford.  Based on the novel of the same name by Edgar Wallace, (a prolific enough novelist who died earlier that decade while writing the initial script treatment for King Kong), Lugosi's Dr. Orloff's scheme is not particularly fleshed out, coming off more insulting that he is not caught partaking in his fiendish shenanigans sooner than he is.  Norwegian actress Greta Gynt makes for an occasionally interesting scream queen, but elsewhere the cast is consistently bland, including Wilfred Walter as a murdering, deformed, and stock servant.  For the Lugosi completest, he gets enough screen time to warrant a viewing, but otherwise it is staunchly forgettable.

1950s American Horror Part One

THE BLACK SLEEP

(1956)

Dir - Reginald Le Borg

Overall: GOOD

A bittersweet entry in the filmography of many involved, The Black Sleep has an almost entirely recognizable cast and is the type of horror melodrama common of a few decades prior when Universal in particular was pumping out movies of a similar nature.  Basil Rathbone, John Carradine, Lon Chaney Jr., Tor Johnson, and Bela Lugosi in his penultimate film role, (if you count Plan 9 from Outer Space as his official last), are all on board though most of them have far smaller parts than would have been preferable.   Johnson and Carradine provide mere cameos and do not show up until the movie has about twenty minutes left of it.  Worse is that Chaney and Lugosi are reduced to non-speaking roles, the former as a mindless brute and the latter a mere mute house servant.  While the lack of prestigious screen time given to these veterans represent the film's misfortunes, thankfully there is still plenty of campy, be it uneven fun.  Rathbone is the typical mad doctor whose intentions are good but whose actions are deplorable and Akim Tamiroff, (in a part originally offered to Peter Lorre), is entertaining as a immoral gypsy/tattoo artist/body supplier for Rathbone's surgeon.  The movie maintains its ghastliness and is only over the top in the most beneficial of ways, even if so many horror heavyweights together are still technically wasted.

 

FROM HELL IT CAME
(1957)
Dir - Dan Milner
Overall: WOOF

Editor-turned-director Dan Milner's last effort from behind the lens was the insultingly dull From Hell It Came which belongs in a small pile of walking tree monster movies from the era and is even more comatose-inducing than the lot of them.  Caucasian actors in pathetically disguised brown face act as half-naked natives who sacrifice a guy that vows to come back from the grave for vengeance, only he does so about forty minutes later as a pathetically unconvincing creature that has the lumbering awkwardness of a geriatric patient in a cardboard foliage suit.  In the meantime, this is a talky ordeal even by the minimal-effort standards of other drive-in cheapies from the day, with characters prattling on about inconsequential nonsense that is so boring that it is difficult to believe that the doofy Swamp Thing stand-in Tabanga did not just keel over and die from listening to them.  Every guy on screen is interchangeable and on that note, the only way to tell Tina Carver and Linda Watkins apart is that one of them puts on a fake British accent as they look like identical twins with matching haircuts, hair color, and wardrobe just to make sure that we only confuse them with each other and not any of the scantily-clad tribal locals.  Paul Blaisdell was the go-to guy in creating B-movie monsters of his day, but this is rendered his least memorable creation simply because the film itself is worth no one's time.

MACABRE
(1958)
Dir - William Castle
Overall: MEH

The first of William Castle's gimmick-laden thriller/horror films was Macabre which provided each theater audience member at the time with an insurance policy of a thousand dollars if they "died of fright".   The gimmick, premise, and look are all much, much better than the actual movie is itself.  Castle always being a fan of the most cockamamie of scripts, the one here by Robb White, (who would end up penning most of Castle's following horror productions, including the good ones), is the most convoluted and flawed to the point of near non-stop aggravation.  As a race against the clock, the characters incessantly waste so much time arguing with each other, (which also brings on flashbacks that slow the movie down even further), but far more insultingly, the stakes are so dire that why everyone does not run throughout the whole town pleading for help and following every possible lead is rendered preposterous.  The final twist is as illogical as all of the details that come before it and sadly unsatisfying enough to be laughable.  There are some technical aspects done right to keep it from being an absolute crud rock, but it is presented seriously enough and acted hammy enough to still come close to being a disaster.

1950s British Horror Part One

MOTHER RILEY MEETS THE VAMPIRE
(1952)
Dir - John Gilling
Overall: WOOF

Several years before he made the outstanding The Plague of the Zombies and Reptile for Hammer Studios, John Gilling had the grave misfortune of directing a sure fire contender for the most abysmal thing that Béla Lugosi was ever in.  The Madea of England, there were no less than seventeen goddamn Old Mother Riley movies made since 1936, but thank the gods Mother Riley Meets the Vampire, (Vampire Over London), would be the last of them as actor Arthur Lucan died two years after making it.  More fascinating than painful in how unfunny both the movie and especially the character of Riley is, this is simply a trainwreck to watch.  The story is simple enough that a child could have written it, but it is also nearly incomprehensible as it derails into a series of ridiculous pratfalls and fast motion gags equipped with cartoon noises.  All the while, Mother Riley is the polar opposite of hilarious.  Allegedly the movie was thrown together by producer Roger Gordon who got Lugosi all the way out to England to star in a disastrous Dracula run on stage ,d the actor legitimately needed money to get back to the states.  Watching poor Lugosi try and make the most of this strange wretched movie is only for the most diehard of diehards.  For the rest of us, let us continue to forget that Mother Riley was ever a thing in the first place.

FIEND WITHOUT A FACE
(1958)
Dir - Arthur Crabtree
Overall: MEH

Noteworthy for its stop-motion effects and causing a mild ruckus at the time in its native England for its violence which only comes off as positively tame now, Fiend Without a Face is faulty yes, but just interesting enough to garnish a bit of an understandable following.  There is an American military base set up in rural Canada, (though the entire film was actually made in England), that is trying to build a radar with enough juice to spy on Russia 24/7 and of course the radiation they are experimenting with creates the title fiends that begin killing everyone around.  The story was adapted from Amilia Reynolds Long's "The Thought Monster" which was published in a 1930 issue of Weird Tales and the noticeably small budget does not quite do it justice.  The monsters and stop motion effects, (though always preferable to bad CGI), cannot avoid coming off as a bit silly once they are finally on screen and it has a bit too cliche of a "scientist unwillingly unleashes a menace" premise overall.  Plus there is a dopey love angle thrown in to likely appeal to the drive-in couples out on dates who would make up the audience for such a movie at the time.  Similar to the Quartermass films from Hammer, Fiend is also a bit slow and falls just short of being a high-water mark for the type of sci-fi horror typical of the 1950s.

JACK THE RIPPER
(1959)
Dir - Monty Berman/Robert S. Baker
Overall: GOOD

Scripted by prolific, Hammer screenwriter Jimmy Sangster, Jack the Ripper was directed and produced by Monty Berman and Robert S. Baker for their small Mid-Century Film Productions company and it is not a bad cinematic version of the often-filmed source material.  Embellishing the theory by Australian journalist Leonard Matters that the real life Jack the Ripper may have been a doctor with some twisted revenge scheme, the film successfully leads us in incorrect directions.  The twist may seem either slick or obvious depending on how much you see a twist coming in the first place, but the ending is satisfyingly gruesome and actually rather tense.  Ripper is also a bit shocking for the time period with the small amount of nudity and the exploitative nature of a number of moments which mostly revolve around a backdoor brothel operation where some scenes take place.  The familiarity of the story and structure may dull the experience somewhat, (the Ripper picks off women who are ill-advised enough to wonder alone at night, the angry townspeople grow paranoid, the cops come up with no leads, etc), but it is a decent enough thriller with some mild, scandalous merit.

Abbott and Costello Horror Part One

HOLD THAT GHOST
(1941)
Dir - Arthur Lubin
Overall: GOOD

Bud Abbott and Lou Costello's well-oiled schtick was already in fine form on Hold That Ghost, the pair's forth film in two years for Universal and first of six horror comedies.  While some of the familiar gags might drag out a little too long due to their predictability, (both the candle and gambling-turned-bedroom scenes could have each been cut in half), there is plenty to laugh out loud with.  The dance sequence alone between Costello and Joan Davis is pure silliness and the opening scene where they act as replacement waiters who quickly get fired is just the kind of shenanigans that Bud and Lou would become famous for.  Unfortunately, Universal shoehorned The Andrew Sisters into a few completely unnecessary musical numbers having them under contract at the time and also featured in the duo's two proceeding movies.  While this would set the template for all of the future, "nobody believes anything Costello says/sees" horror-tinged outings from them, it is a solid such starting point nonetheless.  Plus, Shemp Howard shows up for one scene so you cannot possibly complain there.

ABBOTT AND COSTELLO MEET FRANKENSTEIN
(1948)
Dir - Charles Barton
Overall: GOOD

Generally regarded as the duo's best overall film or if not, certainly their strongest horror comedy, Abbott and Costello Meet Frankenstein is a splendid experience for a multitude of reasons.  While the script and particular gags are as silly and expected as any from the pair's hefty cinematic catalog and it is the same old set up where Abbot is the annoyed straight man and Costello is a bumbling, childlike goof who cannot convince anyone of anything, to pair all of this with Universal's big three monster characters is highly appropriate.  At this point, Universal's monster movies were getting unintentionally ridiculous anyway,so to see them go for deliberate laughs for a change brought everybody in on the joke and it works quite beautifully.  Seeing Lugosi alone back in the official Dracula garb is a treat enough, but Lon Chaney Jr. also being along for the ride and both actors playing it straight and taking it seriously gives Meet Frankenstein a great respectability as a fun send-up.  Throw in Glenn Strange, (who allegedly was cracking up so much on set that numerous additional takes had to be made), and even Vincent Price's voice for a quick cameo and this really is an essential and funny companion piece to Universal's classic monster era.

ABBOTT AND COSTELLO MEET THE KILLER, BORIS KARLOFF
(1949)
Dir - Charles Barton
Overall: MEH

A few things get in the way of making Abbott and Costello Meet the Killer, Boris Karloff one of the duo's better works.  An obvious one is that Karloff himself, (who is even mentioned in the title no less), gets limited to very little screen time.  That said, at least he is involved in the film's best scene where as a shady Swami, he tries in vain to hypnotize Costello into killing himself in his hotel room.  The script though by Howard Snyder and Hugh Wedlock Jr., (who also penned Abbott and Costello Meet the Invisible Man), is so sloppy and inconsistent that it borders on aggravating.  The near ending set piece in a Lost Cavern seems to only be there because Universal had such an impressive set they wanted to use as its entire set up and execution are as illogical as it gets.  As the pair's twenty-fifth movie in only nine years, the usual routine of Costello running around himming and hawing as nobody believes anything he says was starting to get a little old hat and with such an asinine story to play off of, it ends up being a regrettably weak horror comedy follow-up to the quite superior Meets Frankenstein.