Old School Mysteries and Frights

Old School Mysteries and Frights

by Kristin Battestella

Nestle in on a rainy day with these retro spookies, crisp black and white thrillers, and classic stars for some all in good fun ominous riddles and murderous suspense. 

 

Fog Island – House of Frankenstein alums Lionel Atwill and George Zucco serve isolated island revenge in this quick seventy minute 1945 mystery. This public print is tough, however, with poor sound, difficult to see darkness, and the titular atmosphere ruining critical action scenes. At times, it's tough to tell who is who despite some intriguing, cutthroat characters. These hacks, frauds, phony psychics, and selling out secretaries are not who they seem to be as they ally or test each other with blackmail and vengeful implications of murders past. Fortunately, no one is hammy or over the top, and furs, hats, skulls, and a melancholy organ add a spooky sophistication to match the moody, albeit slim production and earlier interwar-feeling. The black and white patina creates innate shadows amid the stage-like dressings, with the suspicion afoot thanks to spying butlers, peeping through windows, and rustling through drawers – snooping in search of handwritten letters, clues, and secret compartments. Pesky newspapers send the once convicted into seclusion to avoid the talk of violent family deaths and scandalous investments. Your cellmate and your account should never be one and the same! Depression finances crumbling and the locale's pirate past are mentioned more than seen along with morbid party favors, séances, and occult talk suggesting a not really supernatural. However such red herrings add to the mystery keys, whispered plans, and scenarios in play – we must pay attention to the conversations even if the plot is similar to other more famous mysteries. The ingenue, young hero, and cat and mouse romance may be dry to viewers today, but the MacGuffins, skeletons, and trap doors are well paced. Who's going to pay for these past scams with his or her life? The violence is surprisingly good for the time with suspenseful encounters and a vindicating topper.

The House That Would Not Die – The pretty country autumn, empty house, and covered furniture are almost a little sad to start this Barbara Stanwyck-led 1970 Aaron Spelling television movie based upon the novel Ammie Come Home. Unfortunately, the foreboding echoes of their inherited home suggest worse to come for our sophisticated working lady, niece Kitty Winn (Panic in Needle Park), and their professor neighbor Richard Egan (The 300 Spartans). Old books, pewter, cursive, and classy cars compliment the fur and hats wearing dames while older lace and flowing nightgowns add to the déjà vu feelings, peeping ghost perspectives, and drafty doors opening by themselves. Recollecting zooms, eerie paintings, blue lighting, wispy curtains, sleepwalking, and slow motion nightmares invoke an afoot atmosphere – fog, fade in visuals, footsteps, and ghostly whispers are simplistic yet effective in halting our players mid-fright. Hazy camera focuses become a clouding before the swoon, and despite the occasional melodramatic acting, laughable cat fights, and hysterical slaps; terrified mediums, warnings to flee, and possessions leave the fears to the cast. The past is trying to repeat itself with old fashioned mannerisms and phantom personalities taking over – choking attacks and automatic writing help discover concealed desk panels, hidden scrolls, and once stricken names. Creepy basements and buried secrets accent the research montage, and it's nice to see people not so well versed in the paranormal question how they can be so matter of fact about it. Roundabout ghost attempts do sag in the middle and 1780 colonial mentions aren't always felt, leaving audiences to read the book for the juicy behind the tidy explanations and absolving confrontations here. Fortunately, this seventy-odd minutes moves fast without underestimating its viewers, making for a pleasant, spooky little mystery. She's not one of my classic favorites, but Miss Barbara sitting sipping her tea cup while the men do all the work – you go on girl!

Sting of Death – Boris Karloff has a battle of wits with killer bees in this eleventh episode of the 1955 television series The Elgin Hour. While the show is admittedly obscure, this episode adapted from the acclaimed novel A Taste for Honey is available for streaming – no doubt standing out thanks toold and nosy but witty Mr. Mycroft coughsherlockholmescough. This homegrown scientist and observant layman questions who's behind the eponymous honey makers, and I'd love to have seen Karloff as Mycroft in more of these! Naturally, the dressings are simple – buzzing sounds, bug sprays, a magnify glass, and netted hats add the insect mood with fake plants and rural mural backgrounds creating a fun, bare innocence to stage the drama. The camerawork, however, is tight and up close, matching the unnecessary, over the top arguing at the breakfast table thanks to talkative old lady colloquialisms and an obnoxious stuffed shirt professor wanting to know, “Who ate my honey?!” The back and forth OMG we're out of honey is dated filler – skipping right to knocking on the beekeeper's door inquiring on honey for sale would suffice – and the screenplay can be dry with padding hyperbole, “I deduced your supply of honey would be extinguished in a fortnight.” More time is spent on coming and going explanations perhaps expected at the time before finally getting to Karloff's meaty deductions. Who's next? What happens if these super bees turn on their maker? Turnabout is fair play after all, and our Mr. Mycroft must outwit without being stung. Granted, this is preposterous, but such early television zany can be bemusing – or perhaps not for anyone allergic to bee stings. And don't forget those Elgin watch advertisements, “A beautiful way to tell time!” 

And Then There Were None – Barry Fitzgerald (Going My Way), Judith Anderson (Rebecca), Walter Huston (The Treasure of the Sierra Madre), and more star in this 1945 adaptation streamlined from the stage version of Agatha Christie's famed best seller. The lovely but perilous English coast, storms, and crashing waves add coldness to the crisp black and white while British mannerisms and humor introduce the guests to the audience without having to say a word. Viewers must pay attention to subtle hints and make our own deductions on a guest's awkwardness over the Jack and Jill bathrooms or harshness toward the servants. Old fashions, furniture, antiques, and dressing for dinner formalities accent the well done wartime production as the assembly plays cards or the piano, tediously waiting until the mysterious Mr. Owen announces their crimes – on a record no less! Accusations and hysterics lead to more clues while power outages interfere with searches about the ominous house. Is another on the island watching them? Some of the invited confess, others deny, yet more drop via poison or worse in the titular countdown – and the whole weekend's ahead of them! Who's next? Is the perpetrator among them? Simmering distrust builds as various pairs suspect one another, test alibis, and vote on who the killer may be, and nobody wants to be alone with anybody else. Although the inappropriate rhymes may be unfamiliar to contemporary audiences, the song lyrics hint on each manner of death, giving viewers the how, maybe the where, but not the when, who, or all the why. It's a great way to give breadcrumbs but leave us wanting more despite the occasionally over the top acting, bemusing nasal accents, and shouts of “Murder!” followed by a punctuating lightning bolt. Today we've also seen too many spoofs such as Clue – right down to butler did it accusations, kitchen knife play, keys in one's pocket, missing guns (1+2+2+1), and even multiple endings from the source. Fortunately, this murderous mystery deepens into a can't look away intensity even when its just two people debating which one of them is the killer. Wise viewers can see the impetus of other beloved murder mysteries as well as the budding horror/slasher format, and this intelligent story holds up by making the audience think or nestle in with a good old Agatha read.

Bela, Boris, Lon, and John

Bela and Boris and Lon and John

By Kristin Battestella

Well it’s no Bob & Carol & Ted & Alice. However, what horror fan doesn’t want a night in with any of these terrifically terrifying gents? 

Gallery of Horrors – It’s known by numerous titles and there are certainly better anthologies, but host John Carradine classes up “The Witch’s Clock,” the first tale in this 1967 amalgam. Colorful mists and ominous music over the opening credits set the mood along with old décor, cobwebs, and typewriters, but the low budget production shows in the hasty editing, rushed plots, and cliché spooky double talk. This hokey scripting and telling instead of showing doesn’t help the mostly wooden second tier cast either, and the period “King Vampire” story serves up commonplace crime theories instead of capitalizing on its small town suspicion and hysteria. “Monster Raid” also goes for a nonsensical over the top narration instead of its intriguing mad scientist experiments, but Lon Chaney Jr. gets his Dr. Frankenstein on in “Spark of Life.” Despite heavy possibilities, fun performances, and an intriguing one room laboratory setting, this leg moves entirely too fast. I’d love to have seen Our Man Creighton tackle this in his prime! The fifth and final “Alucard” tale has better scripting and delivery, and the twist makes up for any confusing action. The film as a whole isn’t bad – in fact, it can be fun to spot the reused backgrounds and footage from the Corman/Poe cycle films in some sort of mash up drinking game. However, the video is dark and tough to see at times with some innate flaws, and the fast, harmless fun feels designed for juveniles or short attention spans. Maybe that wasn’t the intention at the time, but the none too scary, moody, and atmospheric fun is perfect for a kid’s sleepover or family movie night. 

House of Frankenstein – Before House of Dracula (already reviewed here), sad wolfy Lon Chaney Jr., slick wannabe mad scientist Boris Karloff, and seductive vamp John Carradine ganged up for this 1944 70 minutes along with Universal horror company hunchback J. Carrol Naish, carnival showman George Zucco, and inspector Lionel Atwill. Yes, there are loose connections to the titular tellings – a brother who was supposedly an assistant in the monster raising – and even more timeline questions and canon fodder from Frankenstein meets the Wolfman. However, great lightning, storms, prison escapes, macabre atmosphere, shadows, and fun plot twists keep up the intensity. All these monsters somehow afoot on the continent! Though hokey at times today, the moody sets, contemporary dressings, carriage chases, ice caverns, and neat effects for Dracula’s resurrection, trick rings, and bats must have been wartime wild to see. The whiff of romances and young couples are dated as well, and Anne Gwynne (The Black Cat) is more fun under Dracula’s brief spell. Some of this monster action feels like mini vignettes moving from one spooky segment to the next rather than concurrent interwoven plots, but everyone has his scene of ominous and there’s plenty of conflict for this Universal monster road trip. Longtime fans can wing it with the rally fun, but younger audiences interested in classic horror might find this to be a bemusing starter piece, too. 

The Human Monster –A poor print, primitive video release, and woeful audio mar this 1939 75 minutes also called The Dark Eyes of London. It’s tough to tell what’s happening at times, and the usual cop colloquialisms litter the plodding pace along with unnecessary transitions featuring people walking to and fro or telephoning up for tea. Fortunately, Bela Lugosi is looking suave in a pre-war stylish suit and belying his nefarious doctoring swindles. His switcharoo subtlety between a generous façade and the slick power of suggestion is disturbingly entertaining. Though the creepy organ music and destitute conditions add to the eerie portrayal of the blind, there’s isn’t a lot of macabre or enough Bela onscreen – most of the focus is on the generic cops and their one step behind antics or the amiss humor. Screaming damsels in straight jackets and the shootout finale, however, make up for some of the obvious crimes. And did I mention the fashion nostalgia and spinning newspaper montage? Today’s audiences won’t find this one that scary and a proper restoration would do wonders, but Lugosi fans can enjoy this fun in a marathon with other lesser known Bela treats.

The Old Dark House – Bride of Frankenstein director James Whale opens this 1932 70 minutes with a bemusing Karloff disclaimer insisting that this is the same versatile actor from Frankenstein before serving up Oscar nominee Gloria Stuart (Titanic), winners Melvin Douglas (Hud) and Charles Laughton (The Private Life of Henry VIII), and more over the top character archetypes and cliché family crazy. Yes, Douglas’ playboy hero is too flippant to start, the of the time delivery is a bit much, and some of the song and dance mannerisms, humor, and Jazz Age attitudes won’t be appreciated by today’s viewers. I wouldn’t call this a black comedy per se either, but the self-aware wit is wonderfully conscious of the contrived circumstances, each one thing after another situation, and every suspense increasing psychotic family member. That lovely roadster and more vintage style anchor the firelight, shadowy reflections, and dark framing – this is a well-filmed picture with no hokey stunts or action speed. Thunder, lightning, rumbling mudslides, and a creepy Welsh manor match the off kilter camerawork, shock moments, and near brow beating harshness of the titular owners. There are only a few sets, but the stage-like atmosphere builds its mood through character reveals. While it may be tough to hear or understand without subtitles, interesting personal dialogue, awkward interwar conversations, and religious arguments add intellectual substance to the family secrets and romantic tiffs. Expected Whale suggestions and a whiff of scandalous pre-code lingerie add some juicy, too – not to mention our simpleton but drunk, touchy, and menacing butler Karloff! Despite a somewhat quick resolution and a few innate flaws in this once lost film, the surprisingly fun but creepy old age make up, unexpected twists, and horror smarts hold up delightfully for today’s gothic thriller audiences. 

And Two Documentaries!

Karloff: The Gentle Monster – This 2006 38 minute documentary is not the hour long Biography episode of the same name but rather a lovely little retrospective found on the Frankenstein blu-ray releases. Although the beginning briefly mentions Karloff’s pre-Universal film appearances, the focus here is with the subtle, silent sympathy of Karloff’s monstrous characters and his long lasting horror appeal. From Frankenstein to later stage work beyond horror such as Arsenic and Old Lace, film scholars and historians discuss early comparisons to Lon Chaney, difficulties with horror make up’s infancy, and more scary film glory with classics such as The Mummy and The Black Cat. Attention is given to Karloff’s quiet success as a character actor thanks to his physicality and ability to be both frightening and sensual at the same time along with his spooky television series and his tireless work across mediums and generations. This is the voice of How the Grinch Stole Christmas, people! It’s also interesting to see movie buffs theorizing on the over reaching and decreasing quality of the studio’s Frankenstein series, beating it into the ground as the franchises, sequels, and remakes do today. Boris fans and horror lovers can eat up the clips and nostalgia here, for sure.

Lugosi: The Dark Prince – Like Karloff, Bela Lugosi’s early life and acting career before Dracula go unnoticed in this 36 minute documentary accompanying the 1931 Dracula blu-ray video. Interviews with genre directors Joe Dante, Jimmy Sangster, and other film scholars and authors instead spend the majority of time here on Lugosi’s quintessential appearance in the budding horror cinema and discuss how his phonetic learning of lines accentuated his hypnotic, handsome, somewhat scandalous and always sensual acting style. This masterful paranormal charisma of course unfortunately typecast him, but clips and analysis on Murders in the Rue Morgue, White Zombie, Son of Frankenstein, and The Raven will be a treat for those interested in the irony of Lugosi’s long lasting iconography but relatively short-lived success and underatedness as an actor. Even if the talk isn’t about the man’s personal life per se, there are great insights into the craft here, making for a lovely little bittersweet study on the quick rise and fall of a horror icon.

Another Early Horror Helping!

More Early Horror Thrillers and Mayhem!

By Kristin Battestella

Monsters, mystery, and macabre strike again in this quick helping of yesteryear stars and scares from those wartime decades!

Fear in the Night – It’s Bones himself!  A very young Deforest Kelley (Star Trek) stars in this 1947 mind bending film noir about a man who’s murderous dream seem to imitate real life. Adapted from the story “Nightmare” by Cornell Woolrich, great, moody suspense music, bizarre dream-esque effects, symbolism, mirrors, and camera tricks match the blurred mind versus reality plots and investigations. This doesn’t feel low budget so much as old – which is fine – although the internal monologue narration is indeed dated. It’s surprising to see some of the heavy topics discussed here, including suicide and infidelity, considering they don’t dare use the word pregnant! Thankfully, classic trench coats, fedoras, period styles, cars, cigarettes, and one stormy night cap off the budding suspense. Kelley’s desperation keeps the 70 minutes fast moving. His Vince has the required everyman likability, but there’s doubt and unreliability for good measure. The support, however – especially the ladies – is a bit typical and largely unaware or unsympathetic of his plight – it’s just stress! The atmosphere here feels very Twilight Zone, but the 1956 remake Nightmare starring Edward G. Robinson doesn’t seem available on DVD. Pity.  

Ghost of Frankenstein – Lon Chaney, Jr. (The Wolf Man) dons the bolts instead of Karloff for this 1942 fourth entry in the Universal franchise and thanks to strategic make up and minimal up close shots, Chaney’s Monster looks pretty darn good. His sympathetic yet violent morality or immorality and misunderstandings versus the high cost of science keeps the film’s focus on thoughts more than scares, but Bela Lugosi’s (Dracula) Ygor is still up to his villainous tricks as he takes his taking advantage of the Monster on the road. Of course, the timeline and series connections here are all over the place – Ygor has miraculously survived the events of Son of Frankenstein, and yet another son Cedric Hardwicke (The Ten Commandments) is playing fast and loose with the family mayhem. When did the original Dr. Frankenstein have time to have all these as needed sons anyway?  Lionel Atwill also returns (and will subsequently appear three more times in the series) and I’d like to think Evelyn Ankers’ (also of The Wolf Man) Elsa is named in homage to Elsa Lanchester, but these repeated plots, clips from the previous films, and the reused cast expose the step down in production values along with the cool but cheap and out of place Art Deco sets. Fortunately, this great, multi faceted cast makes for a tense hour of legacy, betrayal, medical twists, and murder, and if nothing else, this quick little episode is worth a look if only to see Chaney tackle this iconic Karloff role. But what is it with these torch carrying angry mobs?   

Juggernaut – No less suave Karloff’s running out of time but plenty good and angry about his research funds being cut off in this 1936 hour. Of course, the print quality and sound are poor, but sinister music and silent styled orchestrations set the mad scientist mood. Though the ladies’ vocal deliveries are of the time nasal and uppity annoying, the opening Morocco scenes are not stereotypical – I think I saw a real camel in there! The fancy interwar French Riviera casino designs, dancing, elegance, and furs are neat to see against the evil doctoring, too. Granted, the similarities to other laboratory tales are apparent, the people and locales are confusing to start, and scenes away from Big K are standard. This is not the horror or wild, fantastic science of the day, but rather melodramatic suspense over wills, trophy wives, and a missing syringe. Once the poison plots and pay offs happen, however, tension and twists mount for a surprising for the era finish. It’s over the top and ill paced, but it’s easy to indulge this quick hour just for Karloff. 

The Seventh Victim – The adorable Kim Hunter (Planet of the Apes, A Streetcar Named Desire) debuts in this 1943 satanic noir from producer Val Lewton (Cat People) and keeps the mystery vulnerable and personal as she searches for her troubled sister Jean Brooks (The Leopard Man). Great fashions, hats, mid century mannerisms, and old time coppers further set the mood – along with gentlemen in tuxedoes and top hats bringing dead bodies onto the otherwise clean and pleasant subway! Editor turned director Mark Robson (Peyton Place) accents every painting-like frame with excellent black and white photography, shadows, and lighting schemes. Early religious chorales and period singing add a sense of homely and spiritual comfort before the chilling conversations through blurred shower curtains rebuff the Hayes Code. It is tough to tell who is who sometimes and political hints are apparent in some scenes more than others, but the hour and ten here moves swiftly as the investigation mounts. Suspense builds thanks to ticking clocks, sinister piano sounds, and mysterious locked rooms – this satanic cult is so fashionable and soft spoken that it makes their high rise meetings and deadly threats all the more creepy. Though it does seem as if some plots are quickly told or left on the cutting room floor, the unknown to the audience layering ups the simmering atmosphere and makes room for the twists. Most of the picture keeps the outright occult material under wraps, too; however, the search, mystery, scary symbols, and ahead of their time revelations provide intense entertainment here. 

More Silent Horror and Early Macabre

Early Horror Part Deux

By Kristin Battestella

Silent or talkie, the stars not only came out during the Great Depression to make some dang fine horror films and suspense thrillers but churned out a smorgasbord of scary classics!

The Bat – The 1959 Vincent Price remake of this 1926 once lost silent is a fine little caper, but this moody little mystery is a treat all its own. The perfectly atmospheric music accents the interesting stage like perspectives and design.  These painted backgrounds will certainly look old and cheap to modern effects laden eyes, but there’s also something fun and distinctive about the look. Great bat costumes, shadows, and silhouettes also work wonderfully with the spooky mansion interiors.  The opening establishing shots and long transitional action scenes do seem slow at times, however. When sequences are too long without intercard breaks, it is tough to tell who is who, where they are, or what’s going on. It’s almost tempting to watch at 1.5 speed, and for those unaccustomed to silent films, 80 minutes will seem overlong.  Unfortunately, there’s also some early Asian racism and a stereotypically hysterical maid, but the touches of humor and bemusing title card beats do wonders.  I’m not sure why infamous director Roland West felt the need to remake his own work here again in 1930, either. The cast interplay is solid, and the mystery intensifies perfectly.  Besides, who doesn’t love a lost film found?

Condemned to Live – Sympathetic vampires take an early forefront in this 1935 hour. Familial angles create emotion and relationships in contrast to the would-be sinister and village paranoia, and the lovelorn twists and internal conflicts make for a likeable dilemma. The gothic music, old school vampire bats, tolling bells, and period dialogue may seem simple at times, and the vampire mechanics come a little too easy, sure. Thankfully, the ambiance of it all adds to the love triangle, and there is some thematic smartness, “Fear of the monster?” “No, fear for the monster.” The tone feels more like a drama or a tragedy that happens to have horrific elements rather than a shock and scare in your face pace. Plot reveals and exposition are presented with honesty, feeling, and concern, and the sincerity forgives any early hunchbacks and angry mob clichés.  But who doesn’t love a good angry mob anyway?  

The Devil Doll –Tod Browing (Dracula) directs Lionel Barrymore (It’s a Wonderful Life) and Maureen O’Sullivan (Tarzan and His Mate) in this demented 1936 tale based upon the book Burn Witch Burn. It’s all somewhat preposterous, of course- shrunken people being passed off as dolls in order to exact their master’s revenge! Fortunately, the fun if primitive effects and tiny treats don’t look too bad and actually add to the neat laboratory and science abominations.  Yes, all these Parisian folks have American accents, some of the miniature scenes are comical before scary vengeance, and there is a brief scene that won’t be for dog lovers. Thankfully, quality mistaken crimes, good old-fashioned payback, and an entertaining chase montage keep up the pace. More intriguing, however, is the unique cross dressing disguise toeing the Hayes Code here. Barrymore works it wonderfully; we never get the feeling the fashion or tone is hammy. By contrast, there is an element of sophistication and superior thought. It may seem odd to have such wacky science alongside these early taboos, mature suspense, and crime thriller designs, but the stars keep the humanity fun, relatable, endearing, and certainly worth a look.

Fall of the House of Usher – This very early 1928 silent adaptation of Poe’s macabre tale is only 13 minutes. There are no inter cards to read, nor what we would call dialogue. The fashions are decidedly Roaring instead of Victorian, too.  The visuals are so out there-even nonsensical-that it’s almost tough to see Edgar in any of it.  Nonetheless, this moody piece is perfectly disturbed with great, haunting organ music and eerie, distorted photography.  It’s trippy, unexpected, and a little scary. This is another one of those old films that makes for a great demented projection during a spooky party or ghoulish gallery presentation. Though not for everyone, anyone who is a fan of early film experimentation or audiences who just like weird shows should definitely check this out.

Maniac –Shades of Poe strike again in this quick 1934 study of fear and unnatural science from director Dwain Esper (Marihuana).  How does the brain work? Are the mania stages mental disease or intelligent design? Taboo topics such as suicide and some hidden kinky are unfortunately hampered by the over the top identity crisis acting and confusing plot holes- not to mention a very poor video print. Perhaps the weird medical jargon filled intertitles are meant to explain or bemuse, but they interrupt the twisted action and building insanity. Creepy cat violence, code side-stepping lingerie, nudity, and catfights of a different kind add to the nonsensical presentation here. The realization and premise here certainly could be better- this one is really pretty bad overall. Yet, I must say, there’s an audience for this kind of avante garde tongue in cheek raunchy and hair brained macabre.

The Vampire Bat – Fay Wray (King Kong), Dwight Frye (Dracula), Melyvn Douglas (Hud), and Lionel Atwill (Captain Blood) get right to the bloodsucking crimes, superstitions, and disbelievin’ for this 1933 scary.  Though the picture quality is poor for the hour and there are several versions available, fun dialogue, intelligent debates, and modern science versus medieval fears drama make up for any innate production flaws.  Classic sets, bemusing laboratories, and an on-form stellar cast accent the spooky mystery mood. There are a few jump moments, twists, chases, and good old-fashioned screams, too.  It’s actually somewhat pleasing to not see any of the would-be supernatural, but follow the early paranormal investigation and village paranoia instead.  Are these murders fantastic or criminal medicine? The audience is slowly let in on the secrets, and the pace builds perfectly for a perilously fun and entertaining finish.  

More Bela Lugosi!

A Night with Bela Lugosi

By Kristin Battestella

I’ve sung the Hungarian Horror Hunk’s praises previously. However, there’s nothing like spending an October evening with the unfortunately typecast and it seems oft under appreciated Bela Lugosi, so here’s a spooky sampling to get the Creatures of the Nights started!

The Black Cat – Bela and Boris together, Oh me oh my!  Title aside, there isn’t much Poe in this 1934 horror hit. However, a fun opening, great trains, wonderful shadows, classical cues, and early thirties style accent the boys beautifully. Our Man of the Hour looks good, classy, and handsome- a gentleman of the time despite his military trauma and lost love.  The ferociously juicy looking Karloff has a great entrance, too. We just know something’s afoot!  Both men are sympathetic in their motives, but they have their own agendas, indeed. Whose vengeance is justified? Who’s more sinister? Why choose? Not to mention the hidden kinky- bedroom scenes with waifish, barely dressed ladies winding up men in smoking jackets- and how about those iffy lines between wives, daughters, and dead bodies? These horror heavyweights play chess and cross the occult line, and it’s simply glorious to see them going head to head without hiding behind fantastical capes and makeup. Though some may find Lugosi’s lengthy dialogue tough to understand, his torment comes thru nonetheless thanks to hefty, passionate debates, secret rituals, and good old fashioned blows. Toss in a bit of feline paranoia and mythology, a freaky Deco cool house, and not often seen interwar consequences, and hot damn. Cat lovers may both enjoy the motifs or be upset by the stereotypical ailurophobia fears, but fans of the boys will adore this one, oh yes.  

The Corpse Vanishes – Besides a totally cop out ending that almost undoes all the fun, I’m not sure why this fast paced hour long 1942 deadfest received the MST3K treatment. We open with a shocking death or two at the altar and proceed with hints of all the genre staples: Elizabeth Russell (Cat People) and her fountain of youth extremes, ingenue reporter Luana Walters (The She Creature) in creepy house with foreign eccentrics, their weird staff, and a few deadly secrets. Yes, the mystery is completely impractical today- Bela Lugosi stealing bridal bodies via his strangely always on the scene suspicious hearst.  Though he doesn’t speak much, Pimp Bela is skilled and demented with a purpose in his mad scientist laboratory replete with very big needles, screaming lady patients, and deformed servants in need of a whippin’!  It’s also amusing how sassy newsfolk and none too bright authorities so readily use scandalous words like drop dead and corpse so casually, “I have a daughter…maybe she’ll drop dead, too!” The limited sets feel more like a simplistic play, and nothing is scary, but there’s some demented and sinister entertainment here.

Murders in the Rue Morgue – This 1932 Lugosi vehicle inspired by Poe’s story of the same name takes a lot of liberties, with early Darwinism, religious subtext, and saucy human/ape interactions. Despite editing cuts that make for some confusion, there are a few great onscreen murders, sweet shadows, screams, and other pre-code treats to circumvent the censors. Some sequences seem downright nasty- animal hissings and damsel screams from the upstairs bedroom! Our Man Bela is gloriously demented in his torturous looking mad scientist laboratory. He creates a wonderfully twisted and wild-eyed showman inside and out with superb presence and delivery. It’s totally different from his alluringly classic Count, and yet we want to see more of his absolutely creepy obsessions over angelic in white virginal victims. The scenes without Lugosi are good in pace and storytelling, and yet his absence is apparent.  Sidney Fox (The Bad Sister) and the rest of the cast are quite fine for the time, and there are even brief shots of a real monkey to accent the man in a monkey suit action.  Hints of then-modern stereotypes, 19^th century trappings, and shades of King Kong in the finale aside, this is a great little hour for Lugosi lovers and a must see for early horror fans.

I’m Torn

The Gorilla –Lugosi joins Lionel Atwill (House of Dracula) and The Ritz Brothers (The Three Musketeers) for this 1939 comedy horror murder mystery mix. Ironically, the slapstick humor and crazy ladies are more annoying than laughable, and this film would have been a lot better as a straight scary. The spooky décor, effects, and trick lighting look great, and the underlying mysterious makes the Three Stooges-esque comedy attempt feel completely out of place extraneous in this quick hour. Fun crime montages work in seriousness and suspense, and the class of our leading men holds the mystery, secrets, and scandal together. Lugosi has a few wry, subtle, and bemusing moments that showcase his range, and his accent isn’t that pronounced either.  It’s as if he and/or The Ritz Brothers are in completely separate films- even when they are onscreen together.  Make no mistake, fans of the cast will delight piecemeal, for the Ritz funny isn’t bad and the creepy is a-okay. But unfortunately, these elements just shouldn’t be together.