The Old Dark House (1932) review

THE OLD DARK HOUSE 1932

Boris Karloff (Morgan), Melvyn Douglas (Roger Penderel), Gloria Stuart (Margaret Waverton), Charles Laughton (Sir William Porterhouse), Lilian Bond (Gladys), Ernest Thesiger (Horace Femm), Raymond Massey (Phillip Waverton), Eva Moore (Rebecca Femm), Elspeth Dudgeon (Sir Roderick Femm), Brember Wills (Saul Femm)

Directed by James Wales

"This is an unlucky house. Two of my children died when they were 20. And then... other things happened... madness came! We are all touched with it a little, you see."

The Short Version: The architecture of James Wales classic spooker has been a blueprint for the dozens of old dark houses that followed in the ensuing years; although the silent THE CAT AND THE CANARY (1927) laid the foundation. The dark domicile itself is a mere backdrop to some of the kookiest kinfolk this side of the Addams Family. Karloff is top billed, but resigned to a supporting role as a hulking, mute butler who may or may not have "did it". He's not the only madman in this house of horrors, though. A group of five weary travelers do not enjoy a night of rest and relaxation in this Old Dark House.

Lost in a nasty rainstorm, a clutch of travelers stumble upon an isolated mansion. Living inside this gloomy estate are the eccentric Femm family and their brutish mute servant, Morgan. As the night progresses, and the storm rages, the five guests discover a number of terrifying secrets locked away within the Femm household.

There had been similar movie before it, but THE OLD DARK HOUSE from 1932 is arguably the benchmark for the dozens of like-minded movies that ensnared weather-beaten travelers over the decades. If you've seen Wales' other horrors he helmed around this time -- FRANKENSTEIN (1931), THE INVISIBLE MAN (1933), BRIDE OF FRANKENSTEIN (1935) -- then you're in for a ghoulish treat here.

For a film of this vintage, there's a remarkable degree of tension retained all these years later. As usual with Pre-Code horror films, the visual design is of a standard that seemed to evaporate several years later. Arthur Edeson's photography is just as eerily foreboding as his work on FRANKENSTEIN and THE INVISIBLE MAN. The lighting (and lack thereof) creates the perfect mood -- heavily accentuated by a sonic assault of deafening thunder and howling wind. Additionally, the use of shadows are integral to the macabre aesthetics dominating the entirety of Wales' 72 minute spook show.

There's a thick air of sexuality and sardonic humor running through THE OLD DARK HOUSE. This being a Hollywood Pre-Code movie (before censorship was officially enforced), there are some questionable lines of dialog, and shots in the film -- some of which were removed from the picture when it was re-issued in 1939. When the first three visitors enter the Femm's moldy mansion, Rebecca Femm repeatedly spouts off that they "can't have beds"; and takes an immediate dislike to Margaret's (Gloria Stuart) beauty and slinky clothing after delivering an unsettling monologue about lust and sin in her house.

At a later point in the picture, Mad Man Morgan the butler (Karloff) gets a little too much Captain in him and tries to assault Margaret. Close ups of his face and palpitating lips hint at the possible rape attempt running through his mind.

Based on a novel by J.B. Priestley, THE OLD DARK HOUSE further benefits from a sterling script that's generously peppered with witty lines of dialog (both blackly and comically so), and a fine cast with which to deliver them. Thesiger's utterance and inflection of "Have a poe-tay-toe" sticks in the mind as each line meticulously reveals the murderous nature of the denizens of the Femm's morbid mansion; the way they move, the way their facial features maneuver and contort reveal a deliciously diabolical underpinning of evil. Wales movie oftentimes feels like it's parodying genre conventions despite it being in its infancy. This is especially true during the last few minutes.

The film has no musical score (save for the opening and ending credits), but the bombardment by the near nonstop thunderstorm, clashing lightning and rain provide just the right melody for your listening enjoyment. Further complimenting this sepulchral package are the gaggle of ghoulish characters.

Boris Karloff is top billed, but he's more of a supporting player. Still, his makeup heavy character, the mute "monster" Morgan the butler, is akin to the lumbering menace of his Frankenstein monster as seen in the 1931 classic. Reportedly, Karloff's look (courtesy of the usual arcane brilliance of Jack Pierce) inspired Charles Addams' butler from his Addams Family cartoons. Karloff is exceptional as the hulking servant; and he reinforces the old saying that "the butler did it". Of course, you have to see the movie to know whether he's going to "do it", or not.

Looking all skeletal and zombie-like is Ernest Thesiger, the memorable Dr. Pretorius from the classic BRIDE OF FRANKENSTEIN (1935). Thesiger is delightfully kookish, as is his off-kilter sister Rebecca, who frequently warns of bad things to come; and in this house, bad things are assured.

It wouldn't be an 'old dark house' movie without locked doors, musty hallways, and hidden passages. One of these locked rooms houses the elder Femm patriarch (played by a woman), the cackling Sir Roderick. The makeup for Roderick is arguably the most effectively hideous appliance from Pierce's varied work here. The way the 102 year old madman moves his mouth, the unkempt hair, and his unnerving cackle is a perfectly grotesque image.

Lastly there's Saul Femm -- whom we hear about off and on via repartee between Horace and his sister; another mad, and murderous member of this bizarre family. He's not revealed till the last ten minutes, but when he is, his appearance is anything but threatening -- at first glance. The actor playing him moves in an almost unnatural way; this is aided by facial movements that alert the viewer that something is not at all right in Saul's head. What comes next is the personification of goosebumpery.

Unspooling almost exclusively from a single locale, the staginess of THE OLD DARK HOUSE (1932) is one of its best qualities. It's never boring -- the extremely quirky characters residing within the title abode will not allow it. Coupled with so many classic trappings of later, similar movies, Wales delivers a knockout tale of terror perfect for a dark and stormy evenings worth of entertainment.

This review is representative of the Kino Video DVD.

The Raven (1935) review

 

THE RAVEN 1935

Boris Karloff (Edmond Bateman), Bela Lugosi (Dr. Richard Vollin), Lester Matthews (Dr. Jerry Halden), Irene Ware (Jean Thatcher), Samuel S. Hinds (Judge Thatcher), Spencer Charters (Col. Grant), Ian Wolfe (Geoffrey)

Directed by Louis Friedlander

"You're monstrously ugly! Monstrous ugliness breeds monstrous hate... good! I can use your hate!"

The Short Version: Edgar Allan Poe's classic poem is brought to barbarous life melding mad scientists with modernized medieval torture devices. Both Lugosi and Karloff are incredible in this antiquated horror show. Lugosi is especially magnetic with his deluge of sharp stares, fiendish grins and frenetic line delivery. Karloff is pitch perfect as Lugosi's pseudo pathetic instrument of evil. The last half of the film is extraordinarily busy with all manner of ghoulish gadgets, weapons of death, and an elaborate torture dungeon. The bird is the word, and that word is definitely THE RAVEN (1935) in this surprisingly potent horror shocker. 




Judge Thatcher implores the distinguished, redoubtable surgeon, Dr. Vollin to save his daughter, Jean -- a famous dancer -- after she's nearly killed in an automobile accident. An avid, and obsessive collector of Poe, Dr. Vollin becomes equally obsessed with the much younger woman whose life he saved. Manipulating a wanted murderer into aiding him, the beautiful Jean Thatcher, her fiance, her father and some others are invited to a weekend getaway by Vollin. Not long after their arrival, they all end up imprisoned within his labyrinthine, deathtrap-laden estate.

Following their first team-up in the brooding satanic horror of THE BLACK CAT (1934), Karloff and Lugosi returned to shock audiences again for this encore of their acting talents. But whereas they were both of equal authority in that film, Lugosi controls the program here despite Karloff getting top billing (he's listed as just Karloff in the credits, and his single name draws attention to itself with its bigger font). 

There's an incredible amount of activity crammed into David Boehm's script; especially for a film that only lasts slightly over 60 minutes. It makes for a rather quick pace, though. The mastication of whole sequences by Lugosi is but one attribute. His literal House of Traps contains a variety of hidden passageways, gadgets and mechanisms. This modernization extends to a medieval torture dungeon that Vollin models on the works of his favorite author and poet, Edgar Allan Poe. His ultimately disturbing adulation mirrors that of Vincent Price's murderous Shakespeare worship from the classic THEATER OF BLOOD (1973).

Within these hellish walls are olde world devices of assorted deviltry including a fully operational pendulum nestled threateningly within its own pit. This particular machine is upgraded with modern technology to better hold its victim in place while the swinging blade inches closer to the mechanisms fleshy cargo. 

Vollin even has a contraption that enables an entire room to descend hellward to his dungeon of death; while another room holds the power to crush people into pulp with one pull of a lever! When the film isn't exploiting the gruesome consequences of Vollin's putrid playground, it veers into other tasteless terror-tory. 



Lugosi's Dr. Vollin is one vile monster. He's the opposite of the misguided, but well intentioned (yet mad) Dr. Frankenstein. He's a revered, brilliant surgeon; but unlike the Baron, Vollin has no intentions of creating life -- he's only interested in destroying it, and preceded by torture whenever possible. Vollin is narcissism incarnate. He believes he's above human kind, and even refers to himself as "a god with the taint of human emotions." Vollin's strengths aren't just relegated to his brain and his hands. He's also highly skilled in his power of coercion.



When the fugitive Bateman (Karloff) comes to him in the hopes he'll alter his face via plastic surgery to make him attractive, Vollin confirms he'll perform the operation; and he does, but not in the way Bateman originally wanted. Instead, Vollin viciously deforms Bateman for the sole purpose of using him as a murderous tool to possess the dancer Jean Thatcher.



Other than narcissism, vanity is another theme running through the narrative. Bateman is as obsessed with being handsome as Vollin is with Poe, torture contraptions, and Jean Thatcher. Bateman is the intellectual opposite to Vollin. He's impulsive, not very bright, and on top of that, a murderer. Vollin uses his inadequacies to his advantage. One gets the feeling that the evil Vollin never had the intention of fixing the face of the quasi-pitiable Bateman. He's repeatedly prodded and poked into pulling all the levers, throwing all the switches, and retrieving all the victims. 



Karloff plays up the victim of circumstance aspects of his character, even though he's not at all an innocent fellow. But it's hard not to see the pain in Bateman's face and not feel some sort of sympathy for him. After all, we only ever hear about his past deeds, but see fully the torture he's put through at the hands of Dr. Vollin. Often it feels Karloff is channeling his famous Frankenstein Monster character. He even briefly resorts to the patchwork walking corpses grunting at one point. You almost expect him to utter, "We belong dead" during the gruesome conclusion.

In 1963, Roger Corman directed his own version of THE RAVEN that had even less to do with Edgar Allan Poe. That picture was nonetheless a splendid melding of horror and comedy featuring a slew of terror titans of the day. Karloff co-starred there alongside Vincent Price and Peter Lorre. A more recent interpretation surfaced in 2012 with John Cusack playing Poe investigating murders based on killings from his own works. It has its moments, but this newer project is overlong, plodding, and unnecessarily gory. 




For a film of its vintage, THE RAVEN (1935) is noticeably sadistic. Things would tone down a bit from here when Karloff teamed up with Lugosi for the SciFi-horror of THE INVISIBLE RAY (1936). BLACK FRIDAY (1940) was mostly a crime picture slightly tinted with a SciFi slant. Audiences showed their preference for Karloff and Lugosi made up as monsters as opposed to monsters of the human sort when SON OF FRANKENSTEIN (1939) reinvigorated Universal's lagging horror line. For enthusiasts, THE RAVEN is a surprisingly shocking movie and immensely entertaining. Not only this, but lots more.

This review is representative of the Universal BELA LUGOSI COLLECTION DVD.

The Black Room (1935) review

THE BLACK ROOM 1935

Boris Karloff (Anton/Gregor), Marian Marsh (Thea), Robert Allen (Lt. Lussan), Thurston Hall (Colonel Hassel), Katherine DeMille (Mashka)

Directed by R. William Neill

"...The pit... our ancestors used to throw their enemies in there and left them till they rotted and died. That's where Brand killed Wolfram... and the legend began." -- Gregor details to his brother how the dreaded Berghman prophecy began.

The Short Version: It's twice the terror with horror hero Boris Karloff doing double duty as twin brothers -- one good and one very evil. This grim fairy tale is simplistic, yet highly effective in its canvas of bold B/W brushstrokes. It never fully commits to its horror trappings, but with two Boris's for the price of one, every horror fan wins. The title space is where a sinister forecast threatens to become a reality; and if Karloff has a say in it, much murderous mirth will ensue -- and it does!




An ancient prophecy in the house of Berghman predicts a catastrophe that will befall twin boys of the family name. As had happened years earlier, the younger brother is destined to slay the older in the cursed Black Room. In an effort to prevent the foretelling declaration from coming true, the room is sealed up and the younger brother Anton moves away. Twenty years later Anton reluctantly returns to his bastion birthplace at the behest of his brother. Upon his arrival, he discovers many angry villagers in the town below, a growing list of missing girls, and that his brother is quite depraved.

Boris Karloff plays dual roles here as two diametrically opposite brothers -- one passive and one aggressive. The plot concerns a recurring, prophesied tragedy surrounding an aristocratic family. The actor excels as the gluttonous, deceptively evil Gregor, and also as the amiable, timid, and younger Anton. Of course, the structure of the prophecy would seem a bit twisted -- the younger being meek while the older is the sinister of the two -- but things find a way of working themselves out for the worse; and with this being a Karloff vehicle, something diabolical is most definitely afoot. 



This enjoyable feature from Columbia unfolds like a dark fairy tale, and manages to squeeze in a myriad number of familiar horror movie cliches within its brief 68 minute running time. Without giving it all away, some of the headier elements aren't given enough time to blossom (such as a romance angle involving a young soldier framed for murder), but by the end, the viewer will be hoping certain characters get their just desserts. 



As stated above, Karloff is the prime ingredient here, and he brings much diversity to his two roles. While the vile Gregor is the more engrossing of the two (his line delivery regarding the merits of pears is deliciously macabre), the younger Anton isn't without some traits of notice. His right arm is paralyzed, and this paralysis plays an important part later in the movie. Anton has a very loyal companion in the form of Tor, his dog -- which also figures into the finale in an important way. Aside from the actor, the split-screen photography showcasing both Karloff's in the same frame work wonderfully. 



THE BLACK ROOM (1935) often feels like a horror movie even though it's more of an atmospheric suspense thriller. At times, it hints at going full speed ahead into terror's realm, but it mostly stays along the border -- never officially crossing. For example, during a crucially important sequence, a line of dialog leaves the impression it will become a supernatural story, but it leaves this conceit ambiguous. It arises during the finale, but yet again never fully embraces its ghostly connotations. Still, there's just enough here to satiate those fans who love vintage fear flicks such as this one. 



The sets are limited, but effective in imbuing the proceedings with that lovely chiaroscuro ambiance these B/W spookers were so good at capturing. It's not quite the scale of the Universal horrors, but the director doesn't seem to be aspiring for their imitation. The darkened halls, thunderstorms, secret passageways, trapdoors and forbidding lighting effects keep them firmly in mind, though. The director did wrangle two horror heavyweights in 1942s FRANKENSTEIN MEETS THE WOLFMAN. Without Karloff, it's likely BLACK ROOM (1935) wouldn't be as evocative as it is. Recommended highly for fans of the famous actor.

This review is representative of the Sony ICONS OF HORROR COLLECTION: BORIS KARLOFF 2 disc set.

Bride of Frankenstein (1935) review

BRIDE OF FRANKENSTEIN 1935

Colin Clive (Henry Frankenstein), Boris Karloff (The Monster), Ernest Thesiger (Dr. Septimus Pretorious), Valerie Hobson (Elizabeth), Elsa Lanchester (Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley/The Bride of The Monster), Dwight Frye (Karl), John Carradine (hunter)

Directed by James Whale

The Short Version: James Whale's spectacular sequel lays down the rules on how to deliver a 'Part 2' that works and surpass its predecessor. It's more or less the same film, but expands on both the mad scientist and monster mythos by introducing an even more devilish doctor and making Karloff's lumbering creature even more pitiable and tragic than before. The monster speaks, in addition to getting a potential mate. This is possibly the movie that muddled the attribution of the Frankenstein name to the monster as opposed to the doctor. Easily one of the most important horror films of all time; and one that, like other Universal horror pictures, laid the groundwork for thousands of nightmares to come.




On a dark and stormy night, Mary Shelley spins the continuation of her story, 'Frankenstein'. In it, the Monster survives being burned alive by the villagers inside the windmill. Presumed dead, Henry Frankenstein's body is returned to his castle where his fiance, Elizabeth awaits. As soon as the news breaks that the Monster is roaming the countryside, Elizabeth sees her seemingly dead husband-to-be move. Dr.  Frankenstein is still alive. The once mad doctor decides to give up his experiments with creating life, but is pushed into it again by both the evil Dr. Pretorious and also the Monster himself, who now desires a mate.

James Whale was enticed to return to Frankenstein's laboratory one more time in this superlative sequel that surpasses the original in virtually every way.



BRIDE OF FRANKENSTEIN is essentially the blueprint by which all great sequels have aspired to replicate. The budget is bigger; the sets are more expansive; the plot is mostly unchanged, but with enough additions to make things intriguing. Basically, Whale's sequel is bigger and better, yet it jettisons any attempt at being truly frightening; a road on which the first film took the scenic route.

BRIDE is more like a dark fairy tale; and since the sequel informs us from the very beginning that 1931s FRANKENSTEIN unfolded via the visual storytelling of Shelley herself, the surrealism of the indoor sets with those strikingly sinister monochromatic skies reinforces this fantasy quality. It's occasionally humorous, which some might find off-putting, yet these low-key comedic moments seem to fit within the fantasy framework and never threaten to derail the picture into the bowels of parody.



Take for instance the sequence where Dr. Pretorious coaxes Dr. Frankenstein to join him in an all new experiment. In it, the elder doctor shows off six assorted Homunculi he has created. The effects are still startlingly impressive even by today's standards. It reminded me a lot of the fantasy extravaganzas brought to life by Ray Harryhausen, particularly THE 3 WORLDS OF GULLIVER (1960). This one sequence alone is as far away from the dead serious tone of the previous picture as you can get. But again, this is more akin to a Grimm's Fairy Tale than outright horror. This bonding of fantasy with horror is seamless in Whale's movie and a testament to his skill that others would fail to replicate over the years.

Whale's never loses sight of what made the first movie such a ghoulish spectacle, but merely widens the playing field with a hearty dose of storybook qualities, richer characters and an indelible amount of pathos for its lead creature again played by Karloff.

Frankenstein's Monster is more pitiable here, and more likable till he comes into contact with Dr. Pretorius. It's at that point where the animalistic traits of Frankenstein's brutish creation come to the fore; induced by the sinister Pretorious.



Upon the monster's first appearance in BRIDE (which begins immediately after the end of the first movie), his anger at having been nearly destroyed in the burning of the windmill results in the murder of a couple of villagers. Not long after, he's being pursued through the forest till he comes across a young lady who falls into a small pool of water. Saving the woman's life, two hunters happen by and shoot the creature in the arm. This scene recalls the one from the first film with the creature by a river with a little girl. This scene also foreshadows the monsters desire for female companionship that surfaces a short time later.



Stumbling around through the woods, the creature finds an isolated cabin inhabited by an old blind man. This near ten minute sequence is possibly the best bit in the entire film mostly because of the amount of emotional evolution the monster engenders here. He finds his first real friend who teaches and encourages him to talk, introduces him to the most basic social standards, and also shows him that fire has its advantages, too, especially when it comes to a good cigar.



The two provide a good deal of companionship for one another (a moment where the monster sheds a tear upon realizing he's found someone who doesn't wish him harm is especially affecting) till John Carradine and another gun toting hunter show up and send the creature on the run again after inadvertently setting fire to his new-found friend's home. The blind man is never seen again, but his purpose of eliciting an emotional bond between the monster and the audience has been successful.



Once the monster comes into the company of Dr. Pretorious, the creature at first believes he's found an all new friend to enjoy a drink and a smoke with. It becomes obvious the sly, devilish doctor wishes to use the man-made monster to further his own evil agenda; this involving building the monster a mate in the hopes of establishing some new unholy race of beings. His purpose is never revealed, but it's obvious he's crazy, and for mad scientists, I suppose that's the only motivation required.

I presume this union -- of what amounts to two walking corpses -- is some sort of mockery of the Christian sanctity of marriage. Possibly not, but with the conspicuous amount of religious iconography (numerous crosses, Virgin Mary statues, the monster himself is crucified at one point) strategically placed throughout the movie, that was my interpretation of it. That the monster speaks(!) was also a controversial plot device that has also stirred unrest in horror circles for other, later genre franchises that dared to cross that line. Unlike other films, it actually works very well here, although subsequent Universal Frank films would abandon the creature's ability to articulate.

 

Giving Karloff's monster the ability to talk isn't the only "drastic" scripting idea here. Doctor Frankenstein's character (again essayed by Colin Clive) is also no longer mad. Reduced to seemingly secondary character status, he's sufficiently ashamed of having partaken in such an experiment. He goes from being a troubled man trying to get on with his life to being a victim and pawn once Pretorious ultimately forces him to join the even madder scientist in creating a female creature -- the bride of the title. 



Dwight Frye returns, but naturally as a different character. He's not a maniacal hunchback, but a murderous grave-robber named Karl. The one connection to his antecedent is that familiar, wild-eyed stare. He gets about the same amount of screen time, but is far more despicable this time out; and partnered with another seedy fellow in what I assume is a thinly veiled allusion to Burke and Hare.



Elsa Lanchester goes the dual role route essaying both Mary Shelley (seen at the beginning only) and also that of the hissing, recently resurrected Bride of Frankenstein. Brought to exquisitely ghoulish life via Jack Pierce's staggeringly effective makeup, the look of the Bride became just as iconic as that of his previous creation in turning Boris Karloff into a monster. This is no mean feat considering the Bride is only seen in but one official Frankenstein film. Her visage has been featured or referenced in one form or other in a slew of films and various pop culture paraphernalia; two of the most famous being Mel Brooks' YOUNG FRANKENSTEIN (1974) and also famous horror hostess, Elvira, Mistress of the Dark whose head piece (there's a joke in there somewhere) is a modified version of the Bride's familiar hairstyle.

 

When I first saw BRIDE OF FRANKENSTEIN as a kid, I wasn't all that taken with it. I do not know why, and I hadn't seen the picture in at least two decades and possibly longer. I do remember being perturbed that the Bride isn't seen till the end of the movie. I suppose being a kid, I was expecting something different considering the title. 

And now, a bit about this title that contributed to my mystification on the Frankenstein character.

I do know that while growing up, I was confused for a long time regarding who exactly was the doctor and who was the monster. There was an old copy of Shelley's novel at my grandmother's house from the 1960s that featured the gruesome visage of a monster on the front cover. That, coupled with Whale's BRIDE OF FRANKENSTEIN mangled my perception of mad scientist and his creation. In BRIDE, the idea was to create a mate for the monster. But upon bringing her to life, it's obvious she fancies her creator and not her lumbering, corpse-composited admirer. 



Even though it's glaringly obvious the monster is never once referred to as Frankenstein, the connotation that the creature IS Frankenstein has been a long-standing presumption for decades. You can't have one without the other, though. I suppose a person could write a dissertation on the topic of man's dark side and his willingness to destroy in order to create where the subject of Frankenstein is concerned and most likely somebody already has.

To speak plainly, if you were to mention pop culture creatures like Dracula, or the Wolf Man, even non-genre fans will form a mental image of what they are in their mind. But if you say 'The Monster', there's no underlying figure with which to associate with. But if you say 'Frankenstein', everybody is going to instantly be reminded of a flat-topped walking corpse made up of bits and pieces of dead people with bolts in its neck; very few are going to identify the word 'Frankenstein' with the mad scientist.

Even the Japanese got caught up in this swapping around of doctor and creation that likely instigated this confusion further in 1965s FRANKENSTEIN VS. BARAGON. It was released here as FRANKENSTEIN CONQUERS THE WORLD the following year. While the monster featured in this Japanese movie is consistently referred to as 'Frankenstein' (the doctor is also referenced at the beginning), I suppose one could look at this analogously -- that doctor and his creature are one in the same.




Seeing BRIDE OF FRANKENSTEIN now, all these years later, it's a magnificent movie that surpasses everything that made the first FRANKENSTEIN so monstrously memorable. The performances, the art decor, the chiaroscuro styled cinematography and Jack Pierce's still impressive makeup effects work contribute to yet another Universal horror classic. It's debatable as to which is the better film, but James Whale truly delivered that rarity among sequels and did so in the most beautifully macabre way imaginable.

This review is representative of the Universal Frankenstein Legacy Collection DVD.