Feb 031934
 
toxic

Old dear lord
 OK, here goes: In some fantasy Deep South straight out of the wet dream of a KKK Grand Dragon, Voodoo practitioner and stereotype Mammy (Georgette Harvey) has returned to the broken down hovel she’d abandoned when her husband Old Sam was killed by Colonel Gordon (Francis Joyner). She brings along her half-White daughter, Chloe (Olive Borden); as Mammy and Old Sam were Black, it’s a bit hard to figure where they all think Chloe’s White blood came from. Chloe is unhappy
deeply unhappy
because she’s got Black blood and being White would be better. Family friend Jim (Philip Ober), who’s Black or White or something—look, he’s a White actor with some dark powder plopped on his face—is interested in Chloe, but he’s Black
ish, so why would anyone want him? Luckily for her Wade (Reed Howes) is the new foreman for the Colonel, and he’s White, so that’s a much better match, if only Chloe wasn’t so impure. But wait! It turns out Chloe is fully White and Mammy just stole her, because that’s the kind of things Blacks do, so there’s hope for her. Of course someone will have to stop Mammy and her Voodoo if everything is going to work out properly for the good White folks. Also, Jim wrestles a swamp alligator in what is clearly a pool because
 I’ve no idea. And they kill a real snake, because animal abuse and racism always go best together.

So, is it worse when your racist garbage is well made or when it’s horribly made? I think well made as Birth of a Nation and Gone With the Wind have done great harm, and this rancid heap has mostly been forgotten. For those of us who do find a reason to watch it, which is purely for a historical record, the feeble filmmaking makes it doubly cringe-worthy. I’m sure it goes over well at local Confederate Honorary Society meetings, where they might have an easier time ignoring the lack of skill on display.

Because of the Voodoo subplot, Chloe, Love Is Calling You gets grouped with horror, but it’s not. It’s a racist propaganda drama film. It’s not concerned with frights, but with supplying such useful information as Black people are all criminals and murderers unless they’ve taken their proper role as a servant, being half White is better than being all Black, but being all White is better still, and Whites who hang around too much with Blacks will sink to their level as White Trash. It just spews its hatred so badly.

Pinnacle Productions was a Poverty Row company, and even among those it was the bottom of the barrel. Still, I’d expect some meager level of professionalism and none is on display. Marshall Neilan was both the director and writer. He’d been successful in silent films, but hadn’t adapted to the new technology. He was also an alcoholic which made learning new skills tougher, and also explains parts of this movie. Multiple scenes look like something you’d make just before you black out. There’s no one from a sound department credited, probably at the sound man’s request. I wouldn’t want this on my resume.

As for the cast, they either went on to careers of minor roles in B-pictures, or this was the end of the road. Olive Borden had been a significant silent star, but this would be it for her and she ended up destitute and dying young. Well, everything about this film is tragic.

 Horror, Poverty Row, Reviews Tagged with:
Feb 031934
 
three reels

Juanita Perez Lane (Dorothy Burges) is a dutiful and loving wife and mother, but she feels a call back to the island of her birth, back to the voodoo rituals in the jungle. She decides to take her young daughter and visit the plantation, currently run by her uncle, Raymond Perez (Arnold Korff). Her husband Stephen (Jack Hold) encourages her as he’s noticed that there is some past issues she needs to confront. Her uncle doesn’t want her to come, and sends a family friend to stop her, but he is murdered. This gets Stephen just concerned enough to send his secretary, Gail Hamilton (Fay Wray) with his wife, never noticing that Gail clearly has a crush on him. On the island, Juanita fits in immediately, but both her uncle and Gail are nervous. When the natives start having more and more influence over mother and daughter, Gail panics and sends a wire insisting that Jack come, which he does on a charter boat captained by ‘Lunch’ McClaren (Clarence Muse). What follows is voodoo and death.

There’s fewer voodoo films than pop culture seems to think there are, and when you eliminate zombies, you’re left with only a few. This is one of the better ones. It’s also complicated. I’ve seen it called extremely racist and I’ve seen it labeled the least racist film of the era. It has a strong feminist vibe while at other times promoting a very traditional family. The patriarchy is supported as it promotes survival, but also painted as creating a dull, passionless world hardly worth staying alive for. McClaren is black, but an equal to Stephen, with his own motivations and choices. Ruva may have been the nanny for a white girl, but she’s strong and has her own agency. The black natives are dangerous and carry out blood sacrifice, but colonialism is the evil that has caused much of the worlds racial unrest. Yeah, this one isn’t going to allow for any easy answers.

And that’s true of the plot and characters as well. The story meanders for a time, though it is never boring, and it could have gone any number of directions. It ends up going several places at once.

As for the characters, they are the heart of things. Juanita is the protagonist, though she gets less screen time than Gail, who may be the lead (her or Steven). Gail is pleasant, kind, hard working, and nearly obsessive with keeping children safe. Juanita is prickly and dangerous. And it’s Juanita I’d want to hang around. She’s fun, alive, and has depth. Gail is a pretty empty glass. There’s nothing to her. Outside of her drive for safety she’s passionless. You might not live as long with Juanita, but you might have never lived with Gail. They are opposite sides of life and of society.

Steven is given the chance to choose between them, not that he ever would as that wouldn’t be proper. He’s a good man. A steady man. A successful man. He loves his wife and daughter and is a far better father than your average 1930s movie businessman. It’s also clear that Steven is an idiot. He starts an “uprising” by shooting one guy (and not killing him) during a sacrifice. And then he leaves. How does this solve anything? They can still sacrifice the girl, but now they’re pissed. If he had some kind of plan, some idea of rushing in to save the girl, and whisking her away, or alternatively killing all the voodoo practitioners (if he had explosives or a machinegun, which he doesn’t), than he could claim the badge of hero. But he doesn’t do that. He doesn’t save anyone. He just shoots. Now his intentions are good in that he’s opposed to human sacrifice and feels compelled to do something about it. That’s the thing with him; his intentions are always good. He’s even given a chance for an ultimate sacrifice that would absolutely save what he cares for most of all, and he says he’d do it, but of course when being more of a he-man pops up, off he goes. He just doesn’t know what the hell he’s doing because he’s a nice, pleasant, boring man.

Raymond Perez is our icon of colonialism and he’s easy to hate—although he is smarter and more self-aware then Steven. At one point our colonialist icon relates that there’s been 12 white people who’ve fallen into that pit, and all of them were interfering with the blacks. Maybe they should stop interfering. Maybe all these white folks ought to stop claiming someone else’s land and telling them how to behave, and instead get the hell out of there. When asked why he stays considering the danger, Uncle Raymond has no good answer. His people took it, and lived here and he’s not running away. He wants the power for no reason other than to have it. Am I reading too much into him to make him the villain instead the voodoo practitioners? Nope. In the source material it is spelled out even clearer with Raymond and Steven ending up chasing each other across the island in a gun fight. That sort of adventure has been removed from the film, but Raymond is still a villain. Of course it isn’t just Raymond, but the whole Perez line down through the years, and the result of that is clear. Raymond lives in the one nice building on the island, but it is fenced and barred, and as the film goes on, those bars can no longer keep anything out, but instead only keep him in.

There’s a strange feeling throughout this film, less frightening than eerie. This is another place, another time, and if you belong there, then it is a kind of paradise. But if you don’t belong, you should run far away as quickly as you can. Ruva and the voodoo priest and Juanita belong. Everyone else does not, and all the suffering comes because it takes everyone too long to figure that out. For a 1934 horror film, that’s a hell of a message.

Jan 141934
 
two reels

Eight of the city’s social elite receive telegrams inviting them to a party in their honor in a penthouse. They are corrupt politician Jason Osgood (Edwin Maxwell), the university dean who is under his thumb Dr. Murray Reid (Samuel Hinds), the man Osgood told Reid to fire for being too radical Henry Abbott (Hardie Albright), Osgood’s rival Tim Cronin (Edward Ellis), his lawyer/girlfriend Sylvia Inglesby (Helen Flint), society snob Mrs. Margaret Chisholm (Nella Walker), actress Jean Trent (Genevieve Tobin), and journalist Jim Daley (Donald Cook). When they arrive, they find three servants (Sidney Bracey, Vince Barnett, uncredited), none of whom know the host. Then a voice from the radio informs them that they are stuck there due to the gate being electrified and that they will play a game of skill where the losers will die, as the 9th guest is Death.

While I’m reviewing The 9th Guest as an Old Dark House film, it doesn’t fit that categorization in multiple important ways: They aren’t in an old house but an art-deco penthouse; there’s no storm, and the murders aren’t committed off screen or in the dark. But it is too similar to the best of the Old Dark House films, And Then There Were None, to leave it out. But you can’t accuse The 9th Guest of plagiarism; it came first as a novel, and first as a stage play, and first as a movie. If there was any borrowing, it would be by Agatha Christie, and there’s no evidence that the similarities are anything but coincidental.

Like most in the sub-genre, The 9th Guest has a group of clearly defined, upper class people trapped for a night in an elaborate space. Secrets abound, and they are all targets of a murderer who is most likely one of them. So, I’ll call it close enough.

The tension in this case comes as much from the characters’ previous interactions as from the current situation. There’s a lot of hatred in the room. The question they, and I, kept asking, was who hates enough to kill. And the characters are drawn just clearly enough to make guessing fun. Unfortunately the big secrets that each character was supposed to have turn out to be little to nothing. I wanted something to dig my teeth into, but there was no meat. The cast is filled with character actors or those trying to be leads who never quite made it, but they do a good job with what they were given. I only know four of them from other films and they were my favorites here: Edwin Maxwell from His Girl Friday, Edward Ellis from The Thin Man, Nella Walker from Sabrina, and Genevieve Tobin from The Petrified Forest. Those are pretty good credentials for the B-team.

The A-team was made up of the uncredited set designer. It’s a stellar penthouse, with an in wall pendulum clock which dominates every scene.

What doesn’t work are the murders. I’ve learned to expect more. With all the meticulous setup the killer did, and the huge amount of money spent, he didn’t seem to put much thought or effort into the killings. The radio announces specific times when victims will die, but he does nothing to assure that. People just happen to die at the right times, and it is very noticeable that it’s coincidental, at least to the viewer. Those in the film seem to think the murderer is doing something very clever, but he’s not. He has no clear plans for any of the killings, and there’s no emotional weight given to his motivations, at least from a viewers perspective, which makes it a mediocre murder mystery, with better than average sets.

Oct 291933
 
one reel
Before Dawn

Joe Valerie dies at Dr. Paul Cornelius’s (Warner Oland) clinic, trading knowledge of where he hid a million dollars in stolen loot for euthanasia. Soon after, Joe’s wife (Jane Darwell) falls to her death after seeing Joe’s ghost. The police, picking up fraudulent spiritualists, get one who’s real, Patricia Merrick (Dorothy Wilson). So on a dark night, Patricia, her corrupt father Horace (Dudley Digges), the sinister Dr. Cornelius, Mattie (Gertrude Hoffman), and officer Dwight Wilson (Stuart Erwin) all end up in the house together, to either solve the case or find the loot.

If there’s anything unusual about this standard Old Dark House mystery, it’s that Patricia really does have clairvoyance. Usually in these sorts of pictures it’s just weird people and some Scooby Doo goings on, but she actually has power. But it’s not much power and does very little to help once they all get into the house. So that leaves the normal events and items: secret passageway, phones out of order (or not existing), screaming women, someone pretending to be a ghost, etc. It’s only interesting when someone stylish is behind the camera, such as James Whale. Director Irving Pichel had neither enough style nor enough money to pull this off. Workmanlike is the most polite term I can think of for how this flick is shot.

Of course it’s those odd characters that make or break an Old Dark House film, and apparently Pichel wasn’t much help there, though the actors and script can claim much of the blame. Darwell is flat and boring. Sure she’s supposed to be in a trance much of the time, but when she isn’t, she still seems like she is. Digges goes the other way and overacts, going arch when he shouldn’t (why didn’t Patricia know her father was a cheap creep when his every line screams, “I’m an immoral crook!”). Oland, best known as Charlie Chan in sixteen films, overacts as well, slipping into oozing evil psychopath mode, but he pulls it off better. Erwin does the old “Oh shucks” routine, so I can’t tell if he can’t act or his character is just really badly written—my guess is both. Hoffman takes on the part of the gangster old lady, a version of which I’ve seen in multiple films of the time; she’s fine, but her character isn’t interesting enough for me to care.

Everyone acts stupidly, while telegraphing what they are going to do, and by the end I was tired of it all. It doesn’t help that the sets are so cheap. This is an Old Dark House film; at least give us an interesting house.

You’re unlikely to stumble upon this one, but if you do, keep on stumbling.

Oct 281933
 
one reel

Black widow Ruth Rogen (Vivienne Osbourne) is executed for her three murders, with her final thoughts ones of revenge on conman Paul Bavian (Allan Dinehart) who betrayed her. Around the same time wealthy Roma Courtney (Carole Lombard) is in deep mourning from the death of her brother. Bavian, thinking he can cheat Roma out of some money, contacts her, claiming to be a spiritualist who has spoken to her dead brother. Her suitor Grant Wilson (the always wooden Randolph Scott) and financial manager Nicky Hammond (William Farnun) don’t buy it, but Roma is less certain. Reputable Dr Carl Houston (H.B. Warner) is both a friend of Roma, and an expert in keeping spirits in dead bodies—really, this guy is supposed to be a reputable scientist. I’m not kidding. Unfortunately, he sucks at his job, and his experimenting with the dead body of Ruth Rogen—again, he’s reputable—leads to Roma being possessed by Rogen.

A horror film with Carole Lombard! Sign me up.

Made by the same team as made White Zombie! Well, not my first pick, but sure, yeah.

And Randolph Scott! Ummm.

Made by Paramount! Can we reconsider this.

Lombard was a great comic actress, and given a chance, she could have conquered any genre. Certainly she could have managed horror and thrillers, as she demonstrates here. When Roma gets possessed, and she switches from depressed innocent to depraved temptress, that is a great moment of cinema horror.

What the hell was going on the rest of the time?

Basically no one at Paramount, and I suspect that includes the one-shot wonder Halperin brothers, had any idea what people wanted in a horror film. This one is barely over an hour, and Lombard doesn’t get possessed until the 45 minute mark. That should have happened a half hour earlier, so we could get Lombard going in and out of vamp-mode, murdering people in her way. “But why have that,” thought the shirts at Paramount, “when we could have a lot of sitting around and talking. And lets keep everything looking very proper. People love that.” Houston should have been a ranting mad scientist. The guy’s carrying out random experiments on a dead body that he obtained by misleading the woman before death, and yet he’s presented as a calm and reasonable paragon.

They had Lombard, and enough money to make a good film, but they wouldn’t go for it as they didn’t know what “it” was. It seems their goal was to make a film for romance fans who would want to see Lombard and Scott get together. Well, if that’s the film they wanted, then they should have made it—a nice romantic dramady without spirits and murderers. No one behind or in front of the cameras had a clue how to make a horror film, except Lombard and Beryle Mercer as a cackling landlady, and it shows.

Oct 111933
 
two reels

Trenul

A Joker pulls the emergency cord to stop the train in order to retrieve his hat that had flown out a window. This causes the train to arrive at the station late, and with no other trains coming until morning, stranding a group of passengers. Besides the Joker, the group include a newly Married Couple, a Cute Girl traveling with an Earnest Man, a teetotaling, Prissy Lady with a parrot, and a Doctor. They are warned by the Station Master that the station is haunted and that a ghost train comes by at night, and if they want to survive, they need to leave. They refuse, and the Station Master abandons them in fear of the ghosts. What follows is a string of spooky events, including a death and then the disappearance of the corpse, strange sounds and lights, the arrival of a crazed woman, and the passage of the ghost train itself.

ghosttrainplay

The Ghost Train was a very popular British play. Written by Arnold Ridley in 1923, it had a successful run and has seen numerous revivals. It was adapted for the screen in 1927 in a British-German coproduction, and like so many other Dark House movies, it was remade once sound was in place just a few years later, in 1931, this time just by the British. Next, in 1933, came two from the European continent, the Romanian Trenul fantomă and Hungarian KisĂ©rtetek Vonata. The French Un Train Dans La Nuit was released in 1934, but that one will get no more discussion here as no prints are known to survive. In 1939 the Dutch joined in with De Spooktrein. And finally the Brits took it back in 1941. There have been four more official versions since then, and a number more that “borrowed” from it, but I’ll stick with the years from ’31 to ‘41.

It’s surprising how much alike the five surviving films are. The basic plot is exactly the same, with all the same major events occurring in the same order, and with few changes to even the minor ones. While the character names change (I’ll use descriptive names for each), their personalities shift only a bit. Footage is even shared between three of them, and the 1941 version had the same director as the 1931, so perhaps it isn’t that surprising.

The Ghost Train is an Old Dark House story transplanted to a railway station. The characters are properly quirky, there’s a dead body and strange lights and talk of ghosts, plenty of comic relief, and an eerie atmosphere. The story line is entertaining enough, and certainly has been popular. The characters are not complex or deeply developed, but rather were intended to represent a cross section of British society in the 1920s, thus supplying a bit of commentary while also being easy to identify. Everything is here for a thoroughly entertaining film. However, a few flaws are inherent to the structure that have been magnified in different productions. The story is good, but it’s brief, at least as executed in all five films (I’ve never seen the play and am curious how it fills nearly two hours). There’s approximately an hour’s worth of material. When an adaptation gets much over that, it drags. As the story was written for the stage, there’s a tendency to replicate that a bit too closely. I’m not a fan of opening up a film for no purpose when made into a movie, but most of these renditions could be converted back into a stage play without making any changes. A few more locations or some clever manipulation of the camera to better tell the tale would be nice. But inventive cinematography is not in abundance. Also, the Joker is supposed to be annoying to the other passengers, but he can easily become annoying to the audience. And if the film features him as the lead instead of part of the ensemble, as several do, he can become downright unpleasant.

How do the individual adaptations fare?

Trenul fantomă and KisĂ©rtetek Vonata can be reviewed together. Just as Hollywood used to film the same feature in multiple languages for release in different countries (for example, Dracula and DrĂĄcula from 1931), these were shot together, one for Romania and one for Hungry. They use the same sets, have the same style and pacing, and both use the same exterior shots, taken from the 1931 British version. However, they had different cast and crew, and of course, different languages. Both are short, one at 64 minutes and the other at 71. I can’t find reliable information on the original lengths of either film, but neither seem to be cut. The major difference between them is that while both add a song performed by the Joker and Cute Girl to entertain the others, Trenul fantomă adds another early in film that feels out of place and stops the film dead. Outside of that, these are well paced compared to the ’31 version. They also tone down the Joker, making him only a little irritating. Since he and the Cute Girl are clearly the stars, the others get short shrift. This is partly mitigated for The Couple, who are made more affectionate, thus giving them something to do, which is kissing and fawning over each other.

ghosttrain33These are low budget films—not surprising with the reuse of footage—and it shows with static shots, uninspiring sets, and drab lighting. There’s little movement even in the main room, and people rarely leave it. But superior pacing beats out the lack of funds, making these enjoyable renditions. And there’s little to choose between them. Without seeing them side by side I wouldn’t be able to tell the lead actors apart. I give KisĂ©rtetek Vonata the edge, partly for the lack of the early song, but more for Marika Rökk as the Cute Girl, in these versions named Mary. A star of German musicals, she’s electric: sexy, intense, and funny. She’s the only actress in all five films who stands out in the part.

Oct 081933
 
five reels

Egomaniacal filmmaker Carl Denham (Robert Armstrong) plans to make his next picture on a mysterious island. When no actress will take such a dangerous job, Denham picks homeless Ann Darrow (Fay Wray) off the street, and the next day they are at sea. The island is home to a degenerate tribe that lives behind a great wall built by their ancestors. Beyond the wall is their god, King Kong, a giant ape. Kong wants this new, strange blonde woman.  First mate Jack Driscoll (Bruce Cabot) wants Ann as well. Denham wants Kong, to take back to America and turned into a commercial attraction.  They all aren’t going to get what they want.

Is there anyone who needs a review of King Kong?  Most people have seen it.  Those who haven’t, who have only heard of Kong from a thousand cultural references including greeting cards, Halloween costumes, and sitcoms,  probably have little interest in it.  I could discuss it in the context of its times (the Great Depression was the golden age for Lost World stories, etc.) or examine how it has changed cinema (would we have the Ray Harryhausen movies or Godzilla or Jurassic Park without it?  When would music specifically designed for the action on screen have come into existence if  Kong hadn’t done it?).  I could argue feminist theory (Ann is plucked off the street for what appears to be sexual purposes, degraded as only trouble by the crew, and glared at and stripped by Kong), or document homosexual subtexts (the men on the ship really don’t want a woman along—they want to be alone with other men).  But all that is pretty obvious.  There really isn’t much to say.

So, I won’t say much.  Simply, King Kong deserves it’s classic status.  It’s as good now as it was 70+ years ago.  It’s a rollicking adventure, that keeps a nearly perfect balance between comedy, action, romance, and drama.  It never slows down, yet jams in several themes and a plot that lesser storytellers would require twice as long to present (no offence to Mr. Jackson, but his still-enjoyable 2005 remake ran 187 minutes and didn’t add a thing; that’s nearly an hour and a half longer).  It is at all times a fantasy, which is enhanced by the dream-like stop-motion animation.  It has marvelous, developed, larger-than-life characters (OK, not so much for Jack Driscoll, but that’s only one flaw) that you will both want to cheer for and strangle, and Kong is the grandest of them all.  It is sentimental without getting saccharine.  It’s just damn fine entertainment.

Now I love the big hairy guy, but what always hits me while watching, what takes me away to another world, is the gigantic gate.  Deep in mist, it is a primeval symbol…plus it looks so cool.  Numerous critics have pointed to it as a flaw in the film, asking: Why would the natives build a gate that wasn’t for themselves, but for a monster they never want to let in?  The question misses its beauty.  In a world where immense pyramids rise out of a desert, and the Empire State building hangs over New York, are those gates really odd?  Kong isn’t a monster to the natives, he’s a god.  And for your god, of course you would build him an entrance, and then you’d do everything in your power to stop him from using it.  Personal visits from gods never turn out well.

Most of the filmmakers returned for a poorly received sequel, Son of Kong, later in 1933.  Kong, considerably larger and obviously a man in a suit, was brought back by Toho for the ludicrous King Kong Vs. Godzilla (1962) and its semi-sequel, King Kong Escapes (1967).

There have been two remakes: Dino de Laurentiis’s unintentionally funny 1976 King Kong (which he followed with a sequel, King Kong Lives, in 1986) and Peter Jackson’s lengthy 2005 version, also titled  King Kong.

Oct 081933
 
two reels

After villagers start turning up dead, drained of blood, the burgermeister declares it must be a vampire. Local policeman Karl Brettschneider (Melvyn Douglas) disagrees, looking for a human killer. Only Brettschneider’s girlfriend, Ruth Bertin (Fay Wray) and the greatly respected Dr. Otto von Niemann (Lionel Atwill) have avoided the hysteria. The mob blames feebleminded Herman (Dwight Frye), who keeps bats as pets. But all is not as it seems.

Watching The Vampire Bat is like having a few old friends, who you haven’t heard from in years, over to chat. Everyone is familiar and listening to what they have to say is fun, but you’ve heard it all before, and you’ve got new friends that you like better. This isn’t genius filmmaking, but it’s comfortable.

Advertising and title aside, this isn’t really a horror film, but a who-done-it with vampire and mad doctor elements. You won’t be surprised by the “twists,” but then how many mysteries from the ‘30s really shock you?

It is the cast that keeps this one interesting. Melvyn Douglas is a better lead than most poverty row pictures could afford. He doesn’t do anything requiring great talent, but he displays a distinct personality and has a voice that would have worked in radio suspense shows.  Horror regular Lionel Atwill (Mark of the Vampire, Son of Frankenstein, The Ghost of Frankenstein, Frankenstein Meets The Wolf Man, House of Frankenstein), playing his standard mad doctor character, teams up with Fay Wray for the second of three features they shared in under two years (Doctor X and Mystery of the Wax Museum being the other two). Dwight Frye rounds out this iconic cast, doing his Renfield-shtick from Dracula.

If The Vampire Bat stands out at all from the crowd of similar films, it is due to its greater amount of humor, usually supplied by silly old ladies. The lighter side is played up, making this a fun romp, provided you are in the mood for mobs with torches and all the old clichés.

Sep 181933
 
three reels

In the castle of Robert von Helldorf (Lionel Atwill) they are celebrating the 21st birthday of his daughter Irene (Gloria Stuart). In attendance are her three suitors, Captain Walter Brink (Paul Lukas), reporter Frank Faber (Onslow Stevens), and brash Thomas Brandt (William Janney). The castle and grounds also contain a groups of extremely suspicious-acting servants. The topic turns to a discussion of the Blue Room, a room in the castle that has been locked for years because of three mysterious deaths that occurred there, all at the stroke of 1:00am. To impress Irene, Thomas suggests that he’ll show his bravery by sleeping in the Blue Room tonight, and that the others do so on the two following nights. These leads to disappearances and deaths, and the summoning of Police Commissioner Forster (Edward Arnold).

As this was supposedly Universal’s lowest budget picture for the year, it shows what a real studio can do. I’ve been watching a lot of Poverty Row Old Dark House features lately, and none of them have this kind of quality. This may have been a cheep picture, but it looks great. The house interiors are ornate, attractive, yet slightly creepy. There’s enough corridors and rooms to get lost in. It got a boost in this regard from the left over sets from James Whale’s The Old Dark House as well as the castle exterior shots being taken from the first version of this story, the German Geheimnis des blauen Zimmers.

It’s shot in that wonderful high contrast B&W that I expect from 1940s A-Pictures. Add in tight editing and we’ve got a quality production.

It also has an excellent cast of second-stringers. Atwill is one of the unsung heroes of ‘30s horror and suspense, a solid actor who didn’t dominate, but could hold a scene together. Arnold is another recognizable face; too often cast as the heavy in gangster films, he has a good deal of charm to go with his strength. Lukas tended to be restricted due to his accent, but he was a competent actor and here supplies grace and style. And Stuart is lovely, even if she does little besides scream and tremble.

Even with the multiple mysterious, Secret of the Blue Room plays fairer than most Old Dark House films, with a mystery that’s solvable and follows from what we’ve seen (perhaps a little too solvable). Surprisingly it doesn’t explain what happened in the past, but sticks with the current mystery(ies). While it earns its horror film credentials on its chilling aura alone, I suspect this will play better for modern mystery fans than horror fans.

Universal remade it twice, first adding wacky comedy for The Missing Guest (1938) and then musical numbers for Murder in the Blue Room (1944). I’ve only been able to find substandard video copies of Geheimnis des blauen Zimmers (1932), without subtitles, and my German is poor. It looks as if Secret of the Blue Room was a close remake with some scenes staged to match it.

Aug 091933
 
one reel

A maniac is killing people, and attaching news clipping to their bodies. Those news clipping must be an important plot point… Nope. Never mind. Anyway, the Maniac is of little interest to Professor Arthur Hornsby (George Meeker), who has discovered a secret formula which allows a person to survive in suspended animation. At his lab inside the Rinehart mansion, he prepares for his grand experiment: To be buried alive. Richard Rinhart (Tully Marsh) is supportive, but worried, particularly about Arthur keeping the formula to himself. His daughter, Mary Rinehart (Sally Blane), is engaged to Arthur, but is being pursued by extremely pushy and obnoxious reporter Tom Hartley (Wallace Ford), who is the hero for some reason. The household servants include Degar (Bela Lugosi), who is apparently some sort of South-Asian
maybe, and Seka (Mary Frey). who is maybe a gypsy, or an Indian
 It’s hard to say. She can go into trances and see the future, which is very upsetting to Degar for no reason that’s ever explained. Degar is also constantly acting mysteriously, I suppose because that’s what South-Asian Hungarians do. The Maniac drops by while Richard is sneaking around in the lab, and kills him. Unfortunately, the Maniac doesn’t kill either the somewhat annoying police, or the too annoying to live, and yet he does, reporter. Enter John Rinehart (Bryant Washburn), Richard’s greedy slimeball of a brother, and his bigoted wife, Sarah (Gertrude Michael). And there’s also a Black stereotype chauffer named Martin, who is only around to act cowardly. All of these folks stay in, or hang around, the old house, when four scientists show up to observe Arthur’s experiment.

At the end of the film, the Maniac addresses the audience, telling them not to reveal the identity of the killer. Yeah
 I don’t think anyone was going to bother. Granted, the actual mystery isn’t bad, but there’s less time spent with the mystery than with the cops acting like idiots and Tom doing the fast-talking, pushy reporter routine. While the rest of the cast, minus the chauffer, are in a horror mystery, they are in a comedy. And that’s where I get confused. Clearly they are intended to be funny, but they’ve never been given jokes. The police/reporter dialog is constructed from the leftovers of a weak comedy, after you’ve yanked the jokes. They seem to be setting up something
and then
nothing. It’s a cheap movie in every way, so expecting jokes was expecting too much.

The only reason to watch is Lugosi, who is charismatic, though his character seems to be randomly designed. Why does he violently want to stop the sĂ©ance? Who knows. Lugosi was given top billing, but he’s not the star. It’s one of several butler roles for which he was never suited. His name was put high on the poster to sell a few tickets, although if they considered him a draw, why not make him the lead? I can’t believe this script took more than an afternoon to write, so just write a new one.

Like for all Old Dark House films, the house is one of the characters, and in this one it isn’t very interesting. Maybe some rain would have helped. It’s got a secret passageway and tunnels, but as those don’t show up till the last 5 minutes, we’re left with a few reasonably ornate sets, shot from a limited number of angles. It isn’t interesting enough to make up for any of the film’s myriad flaws.

There’s no harm in watching Night of Terror, but there’s not much reason to either. It wasn’t available anywhere for 60+ years, so you can feel like you’re uncovering some lost treasure chest filled with wooden nickels. I give it a weak thumbs down. There are better Old Dark House mysteries, better mad doctor movies, and better Lugosi films.

 

Lugosi’s other horror films of the 1930s are Dracula (1931), Murders in the Rue Morgue (1932), White Zombie (1932), Island of Lost Souls (1932), The Black Cat (1934), Mark of the Vampire (1935), The Raven (1935), Phantom Ship (1935), The Invisible Ray (1936), The Gorilla (1939), The Dark Eyes of London (1939), Son of Frankenstein (1939).

Jul 281933
 
two reels

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 fiancĂ©e 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.

May 111933
 
2.5 reels

ghosttrain33

A Joker pulls the emergency cord to stop the train in order to retrieve his hat that had flown out a window. This causes the train to arrive at the station late, and with no other trains coming until morning, stranding a group of passengers. Besides the Joker, the group include a newly Married Couple, a Cute Girl traveling with an Earnest Man, a teetotaling, Prissy Lady with a parrot, and a Doctor. They are warned by the Station Master that the station is haunted and that a ghost train comes by at night, and if they want to survive, they need to leave. They refuse, and the Station Master abandons them in fear of the ghosts. What follows is a string of spooky events, including a death and then the disappearance of the corpse, strange sounds and lights, the arrival of a crazed woman, and the passage of the ghost train itself.

ghosttrainplay

The Ghost Train was a very popular British play. Written by Arnold Ridley in 1923, it had a successful run and has seen numerous revivals. It was adapted for the screen in 1927 in a British-German coproduction, and like so many other Dark House movies, it was remade once sound was in place just a few years later, in 1931, this time just by the British. Next, in 1933, came two from the European continent, the Romanian Trenul fantomă and Hungarian KisĂ©rtetek Vonata. The French Un Train Dans La Nuit was released in 1934, but that one will get no more discussion here as no prints are known to survive. In 1939 the Dutch joined in with De Spooktrein. And finally the Brits took it back in 1941. There have been four more official versions since then, and a number more that “borrowed” from it, but I’ll stick with the years from ’31 to ‘41.

It’s surprising how much alike the five surviving films are. The basic plot is exactly the same, with all the same major events occurring in the same order, and with few changes to even the minor ones. While the character names change (I’ll use descriptive names for each), their personalities shift only a bit. Footage is even shared between three of them, and the 1941 version had the same director as the 1931, so perhaps it isn’t that surprising.

The Ghost Train is an Old Dark House story transplanted to a railway station. The characters are properly quirky, there’s a dead body and strange lights and talk of ghosts, plenty of comic relief, and an eerie atmosphere. The story line is entertaining enough, and certainly has been popular. The characters are not complex or deeply developed, but rather were intended to represent a cross section of British society in the 1920s, thus supplying a bit of commentary while also being easy to identify. Everything is here for a thoroughly entertaining film. However, a few flaws are inherent to the structure that have been magnified in different productions. The story is good, but it’s brief, at least as executed in all five films (I’ve never seen the play and am curious how it fills nearly two hours). There’s approximately an hour’s worth of material. When an adaptation gets much over that, it drags. As the story was written for the stage, there’s a tendency to replicate that a bit too closely. I’m not a fan of opening up a film for no purpose when made into a movie, but most of these renditions could be converted back into a stage play without making any changes. A few more locations or some clever manipulation of the camera to better tell the tale would be nice. But inventive cinematography is not in abundance. Also, the Joker is supposed to be annoying to the other passengers, but he can easily become annoying to the audience. And if the film features him as the lead instead of part of the ensemble, as several do, he can become downright unpleasant.

How do the individual adaptations fare?
Trenul
Trenul fantomă and KisĂ©rtetek Vonata can be reviewed together. Just as Hollywood used to film the same feature in multiple languages for release in different countries (for example, Dracula and DrĂĄcula from 1931), these were shot together, one for Romania and one for Hungry. They use the same sets, have the same style and pacing, and both use the same exterior shots, taken from the 1931 British version. However, they had different cast and crew, and of course, different languages. Both are short, one at 64 minutes and the other at 71. I can’t find reliable information on the original lengths of either film, but neither seem to be cut. The major difference between them is that while both add a song performed by the Joker and Cute Girl to entertain the others, Trenul fantomă adds another early in film that feels out of place and stops the film dead. Outside of that, these are well paced compared to the ’31 version. They also tone down the Joker, making him only a little irritating. Since he and the Cute Girl are clearly the stars, the others get short shrift. This is partly mitigated for The Couple, who are made more affectionate, thus giving them something to do, which is kissing and fawning over each other.

These are low budget films—not surprising with the reuse of footage—and it shows with static shots, uninspiring sets, and drab lighting. There’s little movement even in the main room, and people rarely leave it. But superior pacing beats out the lack of funds, making these enjoyable renditions. And there’s little to choose between them. Without seeing them side by side I wouldn’t be able to tell the lead actors apart. I give KisĂ©rtetek Vonata the edge, partly for the lack of the early song, but more for Marika Rökk as the Cute Girl, in these versions named Mary. A star of German musicals, she’s electric: sexy, intense, and funny. She’s the only actress in all five films who stands out in the part.