Murders in the Zoo (1933)

While Hunter Eric Gorman (Lionel Atwill) is on an expedition to bring back animals for a zoo, he tortures and murders a man who made a pass (or more) at his wife, Evelyn (Kathleen Burke). She seems to get a lot of attention from men, though it is not clear how much of that she seeks or returns. Gorman is possessive and jealous, though he seems to mostly blame the men… Mostly. He delivers the animals, only to suffer, as we the viewers suffer, though the bizarre comedy relief of the zoo’s new alcoholic, incompetent, public relations man, Peter Yates (Charlie Ruggles). In between a whole lot more of Yates, there’s time for toxicologist Dr. Jack Woodford (Randolph Scott) and his fiancée Jerry Evans (Gail Patrick) to study the green mamba snake that Gorman has supplied. After some more Yates gags, Evelyn makes plans to run off with cocky Roger Hewitt (John Lodge), which means he’s next in Gorman’s sights.

Paramount Pictures was confused by horror. Sometimes it got luckily, as in Island of Lost Souls, sometimes it mutilated good material, as in Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, and sometimes it had no idea even what a horror film was, as in Supernatural (1933). With Murders in the Zoo, it did a bit of everything.

It’s starts wonderfully, with a chilling, sadistic scene: Gorman is sewing a man’s lips shut as he squirms, held down by two of Gorman’s aides. Gorman’s later offhand remarks about it (“He didn’t say a thing”) and that man’s death by tigers makes it all the more gruesome. Throughout the film, Atwill adds to this darkness, seeming to glow evil, while Burke displays an equal talent for portraying fear.

And then Charlie Ruggles shows up. He’s not in a horror picture, but a children’s movie. He mugs for the camera. He does double takes with googly eyes. He yelps and screams and jumps in fear. It’s embarrassing stuff, but I’ve seen worse from sidekicks in horror comedies of the era. Except besides him, this isn’t a horror comedy. And he isn’t a sidekick. He has no part in the story (Jack Woodford is our hero), but he’s got more screen time than anyone except Atwill, and Ruggles is top-billed. The film is just over an hour and all that wasted Ruggles time could have been spent developing the tension and the characters who count.

The film also has a weird view on the animals. Part of the problem comes with the times. That is, I can’t blame the film for showing how poorly they kept animals in 1930s zoos, though it reaches absurd proportions with their tiny, barren enclosures. The zoo would have also been shut down years ago from all the dead bodies as anyone can fall into the alligator pit or be clawed by a lion. But the real oddity is in how Murders in the Zoo wants us to think of the animals. It pauses early on so we can follow a kid watching them—because animals are strange. OK. That messes with the tone again, but Ruggles was about to kill the tone, so that’s not a big problem. What is a problem is that Yates is not only afraid of animals, but he dislikes them, and we, the viewer, are supposed to sympathize. He asks Gorman incredulously if he actually likes these creatures, and is taken aback by the answer that he does, and in fact, prefers them to many people. This is used as a sign of Gorman’s madness. Good people don’t like animals or care for them; the only one who ever takes care of an animal in the film is Gorman, who is genuinely concerned that a chimp has a cold. After the chimp scene, I was on Gorman’s side, and against Yates, and I’m sure that is not how the filmmakers wanted me to feel.

Similarly, I was quite ready for Lodge, to die, which I think comes from Roger Hewitt’s stiff, snobbish acting style. Paramount did well with Atwill, Burke, and Patrick, but the rest are miscast, though Randolph Scott was less of a detriment than usual since Woodford was supposed to appear distracted. Appearing not to care or notice what’s happening around him is a skill Scott had.

The ending is ridiculous (good advice for life: do not invite killers around to meet with you privately so you can accuse them) both in character and science. There’s a good movie here—perhaps a great one—but it is stirred in with failed comedy, poor acting, and silly plot turns, making it frustrating.

Attwill would make many horror films in the ’30s and ’40s, normally in supporting roles and often as the villain. Burke appeared as the panther woman in Island of Lost Souls the same year. Scott would unfortunately appear in Supernatural, doing an even poorer job. Lodge gave up acting, to no one’s dismay, and became a career politician.