The Vampire Bat - 1933

Director:                          Frank R. Strayer

Writer:                             Edward T. Lowe, Jr. (story)

Producer:                         Phil Goldstone

Cinematography:             Ira Morgan

Film Editing:                    Otis Garrett

Art Direction:                   Charles D. Hall (as Daniel Hall)

Cast

Dr. Otto von Niemann       Lionel Atwill

Ruth Bertin                        Faye Wray

Karl Brettschneider            Melvyn Douglas

Aunt Gussie                       Maude Eburn

Kringen                              George E. Stone

Herman Gleib                     Dwight Frye

Emil Borst                          Robert Fraser

Martha Mueller                  Rita Carlyle

Bűrgermeister                    Lionel Belmore

Sauer                                 William V. Mong

Georgiana                          Stella Adams

Weingarten                         Harrison Greene

Majestic Pictures.
Released:  January 10, 1933
71 minutes

I would really like to recommend "The Vampire Bat" more, and give it at least one more kiss.  The visuals are great, and most of the performances are very good or at least creditable.   The actors ennoble this enterprise far and above where it would be in the hands of any lesser performers.  The story is an imaginative sort of hybrid, an attempt to graft some of "Dracula" onto "Frankenstein".  However the "monster" in this thing is just, well....let's just say that the most intense reaction one could have to it would be a giggling fit.  In addition, the character who is supposed to supply the comic relief is very irritating -- if there is one thing that makes me nuts it is an unfunny 'funny bit'.   

While watching this film you may get confused and need to flip through your program for clarification about what you are looking at.  You will probably think:  “I don’t get it—this thing looks pretty good for a cheap little low-budget practically forgotten horror flick.  It also looks very familiar.  What’s going on???”  Calm down and let me help you – after all, that’s why I’m here.

Yes, this movie was made by a studio called Majestic Pictures, of which you have probably never heard.  Majestic was one of the studios commonly referred to as “Poverty Row” studios.  What does that mean?  Here is a definition:

"Poverty Row:  Name given in the 1920s to the section of Hollywood around Sunset Boulevard and Gower Street where fly-by-night producers tried to make movies on the cheap.  The shabby buildings housed a tiny maze of offices, often ornamented with exposed wires and pipes.  Its most famous success story was Columbia Pictures, which had its start here before becoming a major studio.  In the studio era, the term “Poverty Row” came to refer not to a geographical location but to any production by minor companies such as Grand National, Mascot, and PRC – Producers Releasing Corporation."  

 Katz, Ephraim with Ronald Dean Nolen.  The Film Encyclopedia.  7^th edition.   New York.  Harper Collins, 2012.  

The reason that these studios could fly “by-night” or at any other time was because of the very low overhead they had to carry.  Generally, their “studio” consisted of a small office.  Period.  No buildings full of sets, no warehouses filled with props, no separate departments, no commissary.   Just “exposed wires and pipes” as Mr.Katz put it so elegantly.  And I bet the pipes leaked. 

Majestic took advantage of the schedule at Warner Brothers Studios which released the film "Doctor X" earlier in 1932.  That one starred Lionel Atwill and Fay Wray.  Warners had just finished filming “The Mystery of the Wax Museum”, also starring Mr. Atwill and Ms. Wray.  There was going to be a gap of a few weeks between the time "Mystery of the Wax Museum" was in the can and when it would be ready for release.  So, Majestic contracted with Mr. Atwill and Ms. Wray to make their own quickie horror film and get it out to theaters before “The Mystery of the Wax Museum”.  That way, Majestic was able to ride on the coattails of the publicity from “Dr. X” and the pre-publicity for “Wax Museum”.

And that's what you do if you are "fly-by-night" and don't have much of a publicity budget.


They rented the sets from Universal Studios.  Remember "The Old Dark House"?  Of course you do.  The main room from that set was used as the interior for the castle in "The Vampire Bat" and the morgue was originally the wine cellar set from "Frankenstein".   

Staircase in "The Vampire Bat", recycled set from "The Old Dark House". 

The morgue in "The Vampire Bat" where, Melvyn Douglas on the left and Lionel Atwill are checking out the latest victim.  The set had been used previously as the cellar of castle Frankenstein -- see below.   

Exterior scenes were filmed on the Bavarian village set which was used in “Frankenstein” and so many other films.  Part of that set exists to this day and can be seen on the Universal Studios tour.

Outdoor crowd scene in "The Vampire Bat".  Notice the archway - part of the Universal European village set through which many a monster walked, ran or lumbered.  

Same set.  Angry villagers getting ready to do what they do best in "Bride of Frankenstein"

Another exterior scene was filmed at Bronson Cave, near Los Angeles.  The cave, part of Bronson Canyon in Griffith Park has been used over the years in scads of films and tv shows— everything from classics such as “The Searchers” and “Invasion of the Body Snatchers” both in 1956 to less than classic films such as “Teenage Caveman” in 1958 up to the unforgettable, unfathomable, not to mention unnecessary “Mega Python vs. Gatoroid” in 2010.  The redressed cave entrance also served as the entrance to the bat cave in the 60's TV show "Batman".  

Bronson Caves.  Larger cave to the left is the most familiar to movie and tv audiences. When filmed, the camera usually keeps a tight shot on the cave so the smaller entrance on the right is not visible.  

Scene from the movie.  The torch bearing mob is entering the cave. Camera is looking outward and you can see both the larger opening and (just barely) the smaller one on the left.

The look of the film is aided also by the fact that the art director was Charles D. (Danny) Hall.  His sets always had an atmospheric grandeur as well as a sense of realistic detail.  He worked on many films and in the horror genre they include:  “The Phantom of the Opera” 1925, “The Cat and the Canary” 1927, “The Man who Laughs” 1928, “The Last Warning” 1929, “Dracula” and “Frankenstein” both 1931, “The Invisible Man” 1933, and “The Bride of Frankenstein” 1935.  This movie has the polished look of a Universal film. 

Before I begin I need to once again warn readers that there will be spoilers.  So, use your own good judgment. 

The movie opens on a dark street in the hamlet of Kleinschloss as Kringen, the watchman (George E. Stone),  lights the gas streetlights and notices the many bats hanging from the trees.  We also get a brief glimpse of a dark figure on a building roof, and soon after the camera moves to a window on that building and we hear a scream.  The photography here is very nice.  When the camera pans upward there is a quick, almost imperceptible dissolve so it can appear to be moving up a much taller building.  This was eight years before Orson Welles did the same thing in “Citizen Kane.”  Way to go, low-budget movie making!

We then go to the office of the Bűrgermeister who is meeting with his council and the police detective Karl Brettschneider (Melvyn Douglas).  The Bűrgermeister is played by Lionel Belmore who played the Bűrgermeister in “Frankenstein” and many other roles.  In "Son of Frankenstein" he was demoted to councilman.  

The council is convinced that the series of deaths in the village is the work of a vampire.  The victims were all drained of blood, had two punctures at the jugular vein, and there was a blood clot eight inches from the wounds “the mark of the fiend”.  (The blood clot thing is a new one on me.)  Their proof of a vampire presence is the large number of bats around the village, and the written history of the town which tells of a similar series of deaths and a bat infestation in the seventeenth century.  According to the historical document when the villagers executed the suspected vampire, the deaths ended and the bats departed.   Level-headed Herr Brettschneider doesn’t believe in such things and dismisses the “proof” as superstition.  He is trying to catch a murderer, not a ghost. 

Herr Brettschneider's girlfriend, Ruth Bertin, is played by one of the original scream queens, Faye Wray.   

Ruth is lab assistant to Dr. Otto von Niemann (Lionel Atwill) and lives in his castle along with her aunt Gussie (Maude Eburn).  Aunt Gussie serves as chaperon for her niece as well as "comic relief" for the movie.  However, I find her very trying.  On top of being a general nuisance, she is a hypochondriac who is forever pestering the doctor to diagnose or prescribe something.  

Aunt Gussie checking her heart.

Kringen directs suspicion at simple-minded Herman Gleib (Dwight Frye).  Herman doesn’t work, always looks well-fed, and most damning of all — he makes pets of the bats.  What else could he possibly be but a vampire?

Herman is a friend of the apple seller Martha who becomes the next victim.  After the murder Kringen reminds the council that Herman had brought a flower to Martha shortly before her death.  Frankly, that does not sound suspicious to me, but what do I know?

Dwight Frye as Herman, with Rita Carlyle as Martha.

After the death of Kringen the council is convinced that Herman is the vampire.  Herr Brettschneider is out of ideas and so gives permission for the townsfolk to bring in Herman.  He makes it very clear that they are to bring him in for questioning only, that they are not to harm him in any way.

  Needless to say, the torch-bearing mob goes a little crazy-- after all, "crazy" is part of the definition of "torch-bearing mob".

They chase Herman into a cave and corner him and the poor, terrified man leaps to his death rather than be torn apart by the rabid villagers.  For good measure, they put a stake through his heart.  So much for "bring him in for questioning." 

Frye is very lovable and moving as pitiful Herman and gives one of his best performances.  The character is kind and sweet and yes, a bit loopy but as harmless as a baby.  The one moment of real horror I feel while watching this movie is when the mob is hounding him to his death.  The terror Frye expresses feels very realistic.  Even dear old Aunt Gussie feels sorry for him when he is trying to sneak an apple from her garden.

After his role as Renfield in “Dracula” Dwight Frye was typecast as crazies for the rest of his career.  In the press book for this film he said:

“If God is good I will be able to play comedy in which I was featured on Broadway for eight seasons and in which no producer will give me a chance.  And please God, make it before I go screwy playing idiots, halfwits and lunatics on the talking screen.”
  Tom Weaver.  Universal Horrors.  McFarland & Co. Inc.  1977  

Unfortunately, he continued to be seen in small roles as the “idiots, halfwits and lunatics” with which he was fed up.  His last roles were uncredited bit parts.  He died in 1943 of a heart attack at the age of forty-four.  He was doing war work in an airplane factory at the time, and his death certificate listed his profession as “tool designer”.

When another death occurs at the doctor's castle and the doctor leaves a clue that implicates Hermann, Herr Brettschneider is convinced that Herman is the killer.  However, at that moment word arrives that Herman is dead, and had died before the last murder happened.  Brettschneider is now at a complete loss for suspects.  (Hello, he's right in front of you!!)  The doctor kindly prescribes some sleeping tablets (from a bottle marked "Poison") for the detective, so he can get a good night's sleep and clear his mind. Brettschneider accepts the pills, but judging from the look he shoots the doc, it seems that his detective sixth-sense has kicked in.  Later, the doctor is in his lab, in a trance and speaking telepathically to his assistant Emil who has been the one actually committing the murders for the doctor.

 Emil has crept into Herr Brettschneider's room and is approaching the bed ready to claim another victim.

Unfortunately for her, Ruth happens to overhear the doctor giving instructions to Emil and realizes that he is responsible for the atrocities.  She very unwisely confronts him in his lab, and gets his mad scientist rant about how important his work is, more important than a few useless lives.

  A few minutes later she seems to be surprised to find herself gagged and tied to a chair.  Well, at least she didn't have to listen to him spouting anything about creating an army of super sponges to conquer the world.  

Emil arrives with Brettschneider's body and places it on the operating table.  When the doctor lowers the sheet he sees that it is not Herr Brettschneider, but Emil on the slab.  The detective had only pretended to take the sleeping tablets and had gotten the drop on Emil.

While the doctor is ranting again, this time blaming Emil for all the deaths, Emil wakes up and hears that he is going to take the fall.  A rather perfunctory fistfight breaks out between Brettschneider and the doctor.  Emil grabs the gun and tells Brettschneider to get Ruth out of there while he takes care of von Niemann.  After the couple leave the lab two gunshots are heard.  Brettschneider peeks in and sees that both Emil and von Niemann have paid for their crimes.  

Aunt Gussie shows up one more time looking for Doctor von Niemann.  He had prescribed "hydrous magnesium sulfate" for her and it is affecting her "most peculiarly".  One burp and one "you will please excuse me" later, and Gussie is scurrying up the stairs.  Brettschneider then translates "hydrous magnesium sultate" as "epsom salts". It's a laxative!!  Aunt Gussie is making tracks to the W.C.!!!!  It's hilarious!!!!!  My sides are splitting!!!!!  I suppose audiences at the time were exiting the theaters with light hearts after this risible finale.  I could have done without the sight of Gussie's panicked waddle up the stairs - it may be the most frightening image in the entire movie.
  
Oops....I forgot to mention the creature, the thing, the horror, the abomination created in the laboratory, the reason for all the hullabaloo, the MacGuffin.  The doctor's pride and joy is......wait for it......

...either a sponge or possibly a meatloaf.  Not exactly Boris Karloff as the Creature.  It is a ridiculous lump of something or other about the size of a softball that the doctor calls, "living, growing tissue...life that moves, pulsates and demands food for its continued growth!"   It's the dumbest looking thing, but, well, as it wiggles and bubbles away in its tank of liquid it does pulsate, ya gotta give it that!  But this is what has caused all the tsuris?  

Melvyn Douglas does his usual dapper, wry sensible chap stuff -- much too sophisticated and intelligent a fellow to be slogging away as an investigator in this backwater village.  After cracking this case he should have gone on to a job with Scotland Yard at least.  His emotional arc swings from calm professionalism to frustration to giving in to superstition to righteous anger (at the tragic and senseless death of Herman) and back to the cool, collected professionalism he needs to catch the real murderer.  He is great; really too hip for the room.  

Fay Wray is her usual lovely self-- a heroine who doesn't do a whole lot, but doesn't really have to because she is blonde and beautiful.  Her purpose is to be imperiled and then rescued in the nick of time.  She does it well.  

Ms. Wray was born in Canada but raised in Los Angeles to Mormon parents though she was not a participating church member herself.  She broke into films as a teenager and worked in bit parts until 1928 when she was cast for the lead feminine role in Erich von Stroheim's film "The Wedding March".  

She had an incredibly busy schedule in 1932-33:  She appeared in fourteen films which were released in those two years.  The most famous film and her claim to immortality was of course, "King Kong" in 1933.  As the character of Ann Darrow she screamed her way through the South Pacific jungles and up the Empire State Building, with "the tallest, darkest leading man in Hollywood'.  Because of the very long, ten-month shooting schedule needed for the complex technical requirements of the stop-motion animation for "Kong", she had time to take jobs at other studios while waiting for her next scene.  Our little movie, "The Vampire Bat" was one she was able to knock off quickly and get back to her hairy inamorata at RKO.  She said this in her autobiography, On the Other Hand:

        "The pattern of work [on King Kong] had been established:  Animation and special effects would be prepared, then there would be a few days of shooting with me...The film took about ten months once they got into this on-again-off-again rhythm and I would be able to do other films while Kong and the prehistoric animals were performing together.  I began to believe it was the rumored scariness of Kong that stimulated producers to offer other "scary" roles to me:  "Dr.X (sic), "The Mystery of the Wax Museum", "The Most Dangerous Game", and "The Vampire Bat" -- all these in the same year as the making of "King Kong."   

                                            Bryan Senn. Golden Horrors.  McFarland & Co., Inc. 1996.  pg. 180.



Ms. Wray effectively retired from acting in 1942 when she married her second husband, screenwriter Robert Riskin.  After his death in the 1950's she returned to show business and worked in films and on TV until the 1970's.  She retired again, but made personal appearances until her death in 2004 at the age of 96.  Peter Jackson had asked her to make a cameo appearance in his remake of "King Kong" and she met with actress Naomi Watts.  However, she refused the part saying her Kong was the only "King".  

When she died the lights in the Empire State Building were dimmed for 15 minutes in her honor.

Fay Wray and Lionel Atwill made three films together:  "Doctor X" (1932), "The Mystery of the Wax Museum" and "The Vampire Bat" (both in 1933).  

Lionel Atwill was born in Croydon, England in 1885 and died in 1946.  He started on stage in London and appeared on Broadway and in silent films in the States.  He made a smooth transition to the talkies; his rich, English accented voice and authoritative bearing were made for the movies and he seemed to never stop working in the 1930s and early 1940s.  That is, until a scandal interrupted his career.
 

Lionel Atwill in "Doctor X"

Atwill was known in the Hollywood community for hosting adult parties -- the word "orgy" has been used to describe them.  In 1941 he was implicated in a charge of showing pornographic movies at one of these functions in his home while an underage person was present.  When he was before the Grand Jury, he refused to name any of his guests and so in 1942 was convicted of perjury and sentenced to five years probation.  Atwill stated that he had "lied like a gentleman" to protect others.  A few months later the sentence was revoked and his record was again clean.  In spite of this, he had become anathema to the Hollywood hypocrites and found work very, very hard to come by.  This fine actor who had done such distinguished work on stage and on film for so many years and should have had many more years of success ahead of him, could find work only in the small studios of "Poverty Row".  He still has not received a star on the so-called "Walk of Fame" in Hollywood.  Tragedy continued for Atwill in the 1940's, his first son John Anthony was killed in action in WWII.

Lionel Atwill was the consummate mad scientist in so many of these films, and his skill is the only thing that almost puts the whole thing over.  

One of my favorite lesser known actors, George E. Stone was known mostly for tough-guy and gangster roles.  Here he plays something different -- Kringen, the hunch-backed village snitch.  

George E. Stone as Kringen.

With James Cagney in "Taxi", 1932.  

One other problem with this movie is the direction.  There are some good looking and creative visuals in the outdoor scenes, but as soon as the camera goes indoors the film looks much more stage-bound and flat.  Director Frank Strayer worked primarily in B-movies for his career.  He made two other "horror" films, "The Monster Walks" in 1932 and "The Ghost Walks" in 1934.  He is remembered now for a string of "Blondie" movies in the 1940's, based on the comic strip character.   

"The Vampire Bat" is an atmospheric piece of early horror and is worth a look.  But, holy cats!...I just can't quite get past that sponge/meatloaf.  That brings the whole movie down a few notches from interesting thriller to just too goofy for words.  

And by the way, don't forget the Public Service Announcement at the end of the movie:  Remember to use epsom salts for your bath; be careful of them in any other context.  

  

Have a comment about this post?  Please, be my guest.  Indulge yourself.  I would love to hear from you.  Click on “Comments” below.  Thanks!

The Black Cat - 1934

-->

Released May 7, 1934

Reissued by Realart as “The Vanishing Body”

Director:                                Edgar G. Ulmer

Production Supervisor:         E.M. Asher

Screenplay:                            Peter Ruric

Story:                                    Edgar G. Ulmer and Peter Ruric

Photography:                        John J. Mescall

Art Director:                          Charles D. Hall

Make-Up:                            Jack P. Pierce

Cast

Hjalmar Poelzig           Boris Karloff

Dr. Vitus Werdegast     Bela Lugosi

Peter Allison                David Manners

Joan Allison               Jacqueline Wells

Karen                          Lucille Lund

The Majordomo            Egon Brecher

Thamal                       Harry Cording

Lieutenant                  Albert Conti

Sergeant                    Henry Armetta

Bus Driver                  George Davis

-->

“Supernatural... perhaps.  Baloney... perhaps not.”  The inimitable Bela Lugosi delivers that juicy line.

This movie is one of my favorites and I have seen it many times, but recently I saw it on the big screen for the first time.  It is such a delight to see these two men together.   It was the first teaming of two of the most unique actors in film – Lugosi and Boris Karloff, playing Dr. Vitus Werdegast and Hjalmar Poelzig, respectively  

Coming off the success of “Dracula” and “Frankenstein”, Universal wanted to boost box office by using both of their top “monsters” in one movie.  It worked: it became the studio’s biggest hit of 1934.  This odd, perverse, and brilliant film is one of Universal’s best.  It contains torture, murder, eroticism, madness, devil worship, hints of incest and necrophilia – what’s not to like?  How it got so much past the censors is a mystery in itself. 

In the opening credits it is referred to as “suggested by the Edgar Allen Poe story”.  The movie has nothing whatsoever to do with Poe, other than sharing a sense of morbid dread.  The only other similarity is the brief presence in the film of a black cat, in order to justify the title. 

It begins aboard the Orient Express, leaving Budapest.  We meet a young newlywed couple, Joan and Peter Allison, on their way to a Hungarian resort for their honeymoon.  They meet Dr. Werdegast when he shares their compartment.  He is also going very near their destination, to “visit an old friend”.  Given the ominous way Lugosi delivers that line, you want to thank your lucky stars you are not the old friend he is going to visit.  He has spent the past 15 years after the war in a Russian prison “where the soul is killed”.  Now, bitter and hell-bent on revenge, he wants to find out what happened to his wife Karen, and their daughter. 

The “friend” he is going to visit would be architect Poelzig, who was the commander of Fort Marmorus – site of one of the bloodiest battles of WW I.  Poelzig sold out to the Russians, and left thousands of his men to die or be taken prisoner.  He then told Karen that her husband was dead, married her, and ran away with her and her young daughter.  Years later, after Karen’s death, he married the daughter (also named Karen).  Poelzig has since built his home on top of the ruins of Fort Marmorus, “the greatest graveyard in the world”. 

After leaving the train, the trio board a bus to take them to town.  The bus driver regales his passengers with the gruesome history of the area.  “The ravine down there was piled twelve deep with dead and wounded men.  The little river below was swollen red, a raging torrent of blood.”   In a close shot of Lugosi’s face, he slowly closes his eyes as the dark memories wash over his features with surprising delicacy.   Lugosi is not regarded usually as a subtle actor, but this moment demonstrates how powerful he could be by doing very little.

On the muddy road during a fierce rainstorm, the bus veers and crashes, killing the driver and leaving Joan slightly injured.   They are forced to seek refuge in Poelzig’s mansion.  This house is a character in its own right.  Designed by Poelzig, it is a masterpiece of cold, sleek, modern, Bauhaus simplicity.  When Peter struggles to find words to describe the atmosphere of the house, Werdegast says, “it may be an atmostphere of death.”

-->The three men share a drink and introduce themselves.  During this superficial joviality Werdegast sees the black cat.  In a fit of terrified rage, he throws a knife and kills it.  Poelzig looks up with a sly, malicious grin and explains that his old friend suffers from “one of the commoner phobias but in an extreme form…an intense horror of cats”.  Karloff  delivers that line with a  perfect combination of his famous lisp and a sinister hiss on the final letter of ‘cats’

Joan wakes from the narcotic injection that the doctor had given her when dressing her wound.  Still strangely affected by the drug, she enters the room with sensuous, feline grace.

  We see the couple in the background as she suddenly kisses her husband passionately.  But the camera’s focus changes to the foreground where we see Poelzig’s hand near a table, where sits a statue of a nude woman.  As the music and the kiss both reach a climax, his hand clutches the arm of the statue in a spasm of jealous lust.  He definitely has plans for Joan.

Poelzig, with his severe widow’s peak and pale face, embodies saturnine, lustful evil one second and genteel graciousness the next.  He would be your perfect host in hell.  (Karloff, incidentally, was one of the nicest gentlemen in the movies.)

After the couple return to their rooms, Werdegast demands to know where Karen and his daughter are.  Poelzig takes him on a journey into the bowels of the old fort, its atmosphere of death and destruction still intact.  He shows him the body of Karen, preserved and suspended in a glass case.  One of the most bizarre details of this movie is the gallery of embalmed bodies of five or six women so displayed.  Lugosi’s face is a mask of tender sorrow as he asks “why is she like this?”   Poelzig tells him that Karen and the child both died after the war.  He preserved her so that he could keep her beauty always.

Accusing Poelzig of murdering them, Werdegast draws a gun and attempts to kill him.  However, he cries out and falls back at the sight of the black cat.  Poelzig tells him they should not seek childish revenge; that he also had his soul killed by the war, “Are we not both the living dead?”  He suggests they play a game of chess to determine the fate of the innocent couple.  Poelzig, in addition to his other charms, is a Satanist.  He intends to sacrifice the bride that night during the Rites of Lucifer.

Peter decides that they have had enough of their host’s creepy hospitality and tries to arrange their leaving.  As the chess game begins, Poelzig deftly, and oh so politely, counters every move Peter tries to make -the car isn’t working, the phone is dead.    He says to his opponent, “You hear that, Vitus, the phone is dead.  Even the phone is dead.”

  Poelzig wins the game, and so as the couple try to leave, Peter is knocked out and imprisoned while Joan is taken upstairs to be made ready for the sacrifice.

           

During a moment of confusion in the ceremony, Werdegast helps Joan escape, and tries to rescue Peter.  Joan has seen his daughter and tells him that she is still alive, living in the house as Madame Poelzig.  He finds her body; Poelzig has killed her rather than let her father be reunited with her.  Now, completely unhinged with revenge, Werdegast ties Poelzig to a rack and begins to skin him alive (we see this only in shadow).   Peter, mistakenly thinking that Werdegast is attacking Joan, shoots him.  The movie ends with the lovers escaping and the inevitable explosion destroying the house. 

Boris Karloff has been considered by most people to be the better actor of the two heavies.   Lugosi plays the damaged but sympathetic lead role in this movie, but Karloff gets top billing (he is billed simply as “Karloff”, no first name). 

Lugosi had the handicap of a heavy accent and less than fluent English.  But in my opinion, he has a magnetism on the screen that overshadows Karloff.  He has such a dark, riveting intensity, you can’t look away.  I can’t imagine what it must have been like to be in the same room with him.  This elegant, distinctive actor was criminally wasted by Hollywood, and sadly, remains underappreciated by many to this day.

One of the marks of a good actor is the ability to listen to his or her fellow actors.  Part of the joy in watching these two actors work together is seeing the eloquent intensity and focus that each displays during their scenes.   

David Manners’ boyish good looks are useful for the role of the young bridegroom.  His bland amiability does no serious harm; unlike in “Dracula”, where he was as stiff as a coffin lid and could almost single handedly grind a scene to a halt.  But, three years later he appears more relaxed and almost holds his own with the two powerful leads.   In their scenes together, Lugosi and Karloff appear gracious and tolerant of this puppy in their midst.

Jacqueline Wells as Joan does a creditable job at what she was hired for – to look lovely, be frightened, and scream well.  And faint.  And faint some more.

Director Edgar G. Ulmer had a decent budget to work with as well as an A list cast.  He made many interesting movies, but later in his career was relegated to poverty row studios.  He also had experience as a set designer and here was responsible for the remarkable look of the house.  Ulmer also worked on the story and screenplay, which was one of the first to incorporate the horrors and atrocities of the Great War into a horror film.  

There is one unfortunate scene of comic relief.  Two local gendarmes arrive at the house to make a report about the accident, and have an argument about whose home town is lovelier.  Be patient, it passes quickly.  It is somewhat useful as a brief respite from the tension.

With love, I give this one 5 kisses.  It’s worth seeing for many reasons, but to hear Bela Lugosi say the word, “baloney” - for my money, that’s worth two kisses all by itself.

Have a comment about this post?  Please, be my guest.  Indulge yourself.  I would love to hear from you.  Click on “Comments” below.  Thanks!