Late Halloween Offerings
When it comes to the perfect Halloween movies, I have a definite preference for classic rather than current Hollywood. I prefer gothic to gore and a less-is-more approach to torture porn. This week, for the holiday, I celebrated by indulging in some oldies but goodies.
First off, is Paul Leni’s 1927 The Cat and the Canary, which should not be confused with the later comedic remake starring Bob Hope. The original Cat and the Canary is one of the first American horror movies though steeped, as most of the genre was, in German Expressionism. Like most American horror films before Todd Browning’s Dracula, the menace was decidedly non-supernatural. There is a famous shot of a hairy hand coming out of a library wall to grab a lawyer. I’d seen that shot many times in documentaries, and so was more startled by a later shot where the same hand reaches out from behind a bed to snatch a diamond necklace from the neck of the young woman lying there. I’ve got an instinctual fear of something threatening me in my bed that stems back to childhood. No, I didn’t have a monster under the bed. I was convinced that Dracula was hanging in the closet or scratching at the window.
Speaking of Dracula, I finished off the remaining films on the Universal Legacy Collections of Frankenstein and Dracula. Son of Frankenstein, I mentioned last week, so I’ll move on. The other two Frankenstein films in the set are Ghost of Frankenstein and House of Frankenstein. Ghost of Frankenstein was interesting to me for two reasons: the return of Bela Lugosi as Ygor and the first mention of a reasonable if gruesome way of permanently destroying the monster: dissect him one body part at a time, reversing the way Dr. Frankenstein put him together. Of course, this method is not used, but I found the logic sound. House of Frankenstein is one of the later monster movies where Universal liked to throw a bunch of their classics creatures together in one film. In this instance, it is Frankenstein’s Creature, the Wolf Man and Dracula. Dracula gets little to do, but I enjoyed this one because of the Wolf Man and the presence of Boris Karloff (who does not play the Creature).
The other films in the Dracula collection include the Spanish version of Dracula. Filmed at the same time as the English version and using the same sets, it is a technically superior production. Unfortunately, the absence of Bela Lugosi is painfully felt. That absence is also keenly felt in Son of Dracula where Dracula is played by Lon Chaney Jr., of the Wolf Man fame. Chaney is absolutely wrong for Dracula. His strength in playing Larry Talbot, the man cursed to turn into a werewolf, is the haunted look in his eyes. Lugosi’s eyes are haunting not haunted. It creates a sense of danger and power that Chaney can’t match. Chaney’s liquid expression calls for sympathy and pathos, perfect for the Wolf Man but not for the way Dracula is portrayed in these early films. Much better is House of Dracula. Once again the Creature, the Wolf Man and Dracula cross paths. Both the Creature and Dracula fair badly in this match-up. The Creature is barely present and Dracula’s motivations veer all over the place. The highlight of the film is the hope finally given to Talbot. If you’re a fan of the Wolf Man, don’t miss this one. Last, is one of the strongest films of the collection, Dracula’s Daughter. Here we have a female vampire and some very interesting subtext between her and her female victims that had the censors of the day hopping.
Even better fare from the ‘40s includes Fox’s Horror Classics boxed set starring three films by director John Brahm: The Undying Monster, The Lodger and Hangover Square. Brahm has been largely forgotten today, which is a shame. These are three wonderfully atmospheric, beautifully shot films with great performances. The Undying Monster is an answer to Universal’s popular The Wolf Man, down to its own little warning chant that owes a large debt to The Wolf Man’s, “Even a man who is pure of heart and says his prayers at night can become a wolf when the wolf bane blooms and the moon is clear and bright.” Other than that misstep, the film is quite entertaining. The next two films, though, are quite special. Starring Laird Cregar, The Lodger and Hangover Square are complementary pieces. The Lodger is more recognizable because it is about Jack the Ripper and is a remake of a silent Hitchcock film. Hangover Square, though, contains one of Bernard Hermann’s most wonderful and evocative scores (which is quite the feat). The concerto he composes for Cregar’s character George Bone has to be heard – intensely powerful and unhinged like its fictitious creator. This boxed set is highly recommended.
Finally, I watched two films from the ‘50s: The Bad Seed and The Fly. The Bad Seed is also highly recommended. It contains one of the most chilling performances by a child actor I’ve ever witnessed. The nature vs. nurture argument is one that has been debated endlessly for years. It’s interesting to see here that the characters profess to believe in the nurture side of things, but the movie argues that nature, and possibly fate, decide who we are. The Fly was famously remade in the ‘80s by David Cronenberg. This is the original starring Vincent Price and Herbert Marshall. It was wonderful to see these two veterans give solid performances, but at its heart the movie is a tragic love story. More terrifying than any supernatural horror is the twofold idea explored here: what if your spouse changed so much that they became unrecognizable? On the flip side, what if you had an accident which disfigured you so much that your spouse rejected you? Terrible questions, to be sure.