Feb 061932
 
one reel

In the most Victorian of Victorian Englands, upstanding Dr. Jekyll (Fredric March) investigates the duel personality of man while waiting in frustration for his delayed wedding to Muriel Carew (Rose Hobart). Her father, Brigadier-General Danvers Carew (Halliwell Hobbes) insists they wait; he’s also not happy with Jekyll’s unorthodox theories. Jekyll’s attempt to separate man’s nature works too well as his potion changes him into the murderous Mr. Hyde. Hyde, lacking the restraint of Jekyll but filled with the same lust, takes up with Miriam Hopkins Ivy Pearson (Miriam Hopkins) a “dancehall girl,” whom he abuses. When Jekyll attempts to free himself from Hyde, he finds it’s too late, as Hyde can now appear without the potion.

This seems like the natural place for a Paramount to enter 1930s horror. It’s based on a classic novella by Robert Louis Stevenson, so they could always claim that they were making a literary work, not one of those low class monster films. And it was a remake of their own 1920 silent film. Like Dracula over at Universal, it only follows its source material when seen from a great distance, and is closer to a stage version. It isn’t a mystery nor is it told in flashbacks as the novella. And it adds women (as compared to the original; the fiancée and prostitute had already been inserted in somewhat different forms in the play and silent film versions). Helming the film would be Rouben Mamoulian, who already had a reputation as a innovative director, particularly with regard to camera movement. Perhaps it would be considered horror, but it would be sophisticated horror, and that label matted almost as much as the money they planned to make. Almost.

How sophisticated it actually is comes down to taste, but it does look good. Mamoulian spent a lot of money and it’s all on the screen. He built set after set and brought in a small village worth of people to walk around his faux London. And his camera tricks are all on display. His POV shots push me out of the picture instead of pulling me in, but no one was doing this better at the time, or for a very long time to come. The on-screen transformation from Jekyll to Hyde is amazing and is the finest use of special effects makeup in the decade. The final Hyde makeup design, however, is not in the same league as the work Jack Pierce was doing over at Universal, and is likely to elicit laughter now. Paramount had the money and skill for a horror film, but they were behind on artistry.

This version does vary from others (particularly the 1941 re-make when the production code had teeth) by its focus on sexual frustration. It’s lust that motivates Jekyll to take the potion, and it’s lust that drives Mr. Hyde. Miriam Hopkins is a ball of alluring lust. Her partly-on/partly-off camera stripping scene has rightfully risen above the Hyde-transformations as the most moment of the film. This is sexually charged movie. Less helpful is what it’s saying about lust and sex. Stevenson’s novel may have been a statement against the hypocritical nature of Victorian society, but the film comes off as yet another conservative rant against interfering in God’s domain. While the pompous father, who represents the sillier aspects of polite society, is noted as a fool, it’s still curiosity and the attempt to upset the status quo that are immoral. If only Jekyll had understood his place in society, then everything would have worked out fine. Sigh. While the superior Frankenstein undercut that message, it was exactly what Paramount wanted to say.

The acting is mixed. Hopkins steals the picture with the best supporting actress performance of the year. She presents extremes of emotion while creating a authentic character that I cared about. March is very different. He succeeds splitting the role; unlike the ’41 version, Jekyll and Hyde seem like completely different people. You’d never guess that the same actor played both parts. But neither part works, certainly not next to Hopkins. His exaggerated mannerisms as Jekyll (flailing his arms and dropping to his knees) and melodramatic speech come off as fake and very stage-like. This isn’t March embracing expressionism. He’s just overacting. A little subtlety would have worked wonders. His Hyde is also exaggerated, but that’s OK in an evil ape-man, though a better film would have given us more than “evil ape-man.”

While most of the violence approaches parody, Mr. Hyde’s brutal treatment of Ivy is much more realistic. It’s as horrifying a treatment of domestic violence as I’ve seen on screen and elevates the film. However, that is not enough for me to recommend it.

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