Son of Frankenstein (1939)

For this year's Countdown to Halloween, it's all-Universal Monsters, all-the-time, from Dracula (1931) to The Creature Walks Among Us (1956).  Join me daily for a fresh perspective on movies you may not have watched in a long time, if ever.  Today, a sequel that I had forgotten was one of my favorites... Son of Frankenstein!

Little did I know when I re-watched Son of Frankenstein (1939) how much I would enjoy it.  My memory would have told you that the Frankenstein sequels got worse with each subsequent edition; however, I believe this one is every bit as good as Bride of Frankenstein (1935), albeit in a different way.

Primarily, it’s the style of Son of Frankenstein that I find unique.  Its sets are somewhat abstract, sparsely decorated with high ceilings, open spaces, sharp angles and shadows.  It’s Universal Monsters via The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari.  Art Direction is by eight-time Oscar nominee Jack Otterson and Set Decoration is by seven-time nominee/two-time winner Russell A. Gausman, both early in their careers.

I had also forgotten how many iconic moments come from this third chapter in the Universal Frankenstein series.  Son of Frankenstein has the first appearance of a character named, “Ygor” (Bela Lugosi).  It has the first time an angry mob accuses a villain of crimes before he has committed them.  And it has the one-armed inspector so hilariously made fun of in Young Frankenstein.

The screenplay by Willis Cooper also has the best character development of a Frankenstein so far in the Countdown.  Baron Wolf von Frankenstein (Basil Rathbone) starts out as a humble family man with no intention of continuing his father’s experiments, but is soon enamored by the “miracle” that came to pass in his laboratory, “a miracle that the people called a monster.”

The story is multi-layered, with all pieces cleverly fitting together.  Considered a dead man even though he survived a hanging, Ygor is not a hunchback, but does live with a healed broken neck.  He’s out to exact revenge on the jury that sentenced him and is using The Monster to do it.  It is also a survivor, having lived through the explosion at the end of Bride of Frankenstein that “blew the top off” his laboratory.

However, at the beginning of the movie, The Monster lies in a coma, giving Frankenstein a reason to crack his father’s notebooks and begin some experiments of his own.  We learn more about The Monster than we ever have before: he has three times the blood pressure of a normal man.  “He’s completely superhuman,” with two bullets in his heart, yet he continues to live.

We also learn a little mythology.  Apparently, not only did the original Frankenstein attract electricity by hanging his creatures in the sky, but also “cosmic rays” that help make The Monster superhuman.  This discovery leads to the gist of the movie spoken by Frankenstein, “I as a man should destroy him.  As a scientist, I should do everything in my power to bring him back to life so he can be studied.  That would immortalize his name.”

Speaking of his name, I had forgotten that the confusion regarding the identity of the name “Frankenstein” was something that began as early as the first movies.  You know, the fact that people call The Monster “Frankenstein,” when it’s really the man.  At the beginning of the movie, his son laments that history made his father suffer for his mistake.  “Today, nine out of ten people call that creature… Frankenstein.”  Meta, in 1939!

Inspector Krogh (Lionel Atwill) lost his arm to The Monster during an attack when he was a child.  It’s replaced with a wooden replica that he must use his other arm to manipulate, often with a sudden push or pull, but is very convenient for holding darts.  You know it’s inevitable, so this isn’t a spoiler, but you almost can’t wait for him to encounter The Monster as an adult so that it can rip off his arm again.

Son of Frankenstein feels modern in many ways, particularly the way it introduces a theme early on that you know will have importance later.  Here, its fear.  Frankenstein taught his son, Peter (Donnie Dunagan) never to be afraid.  That’s convenient when a “giant” soon begins visiting him through a secret passage in the nursery of the castle in which his family just moved.

It’s refreshing to not have a screaming child when confronted with danger.  Because he’s not afraid, he’s silent when The Monster learns that Frankenstein has betrayed it and kidnaps Peter, dangling him over a pit of hot sulfur.  Earlier, Peter is kind of annoying with his standard greeting, “Well hellooo,” but he soon becomes a somewhat endearing reflection of a childhood his father never had.

There is so much I like about Son of Frankenstein!  On top of everything I’ve described, and other delights I encourage you to discover, it has a phrase that’s so obvious and funny that it becomes sublime.  As the finale begins, Inspector Krogh declares, “There’s a monster afoot.”  Yes there is.  But there’s also one of the most overall entertaining Frankenstein movies afoot.  It’s one of my favorites.

Tomorrow: The Invisible Man Returns!

Bride of Frankenstein (1935)

For this year's Countdown to Halloween, it's all-Universal Monsters, all-the-time, from Dracula (1931) to The Creature Walks Among Us (1956).  Join me daily for a fresh perspective on movies you may not have watched in a long time, if ever.  Today, one of the most popular... Bride of Frankenstein!

Many people consider Universal's Bride of Frankenstein (1935) to be the greatest horror movie ever made.  I'm not one of those people.  That's not to say it's not a classic; it definitely is.  And while the finale is a tour de force for director James Whale, I don't care much for earlier parts of the movie.  In these parts, the subject matter leans heavily toward the magical or mystical rather than the scientific horror of creating human life.

If you think about it, it's not that much of a fantasy to believe Henry Frankenstein could reanimate a man stitched together from parts of dead bodies.  All it takes is a jolt of electricity strong enough to jump-start him.  That's science.  But it's harder to fathom Dr. Pretorius growing a race of miniature people from seeds.  They also have tiny thrones and ballerina costumes.  I'm not sure what that is... magic?

Pretorius (Ernest Thesiger) is a former colleague of Frankenstein's (Colin Clive) who appears at his sick bed following the events of Frankenstein (1931).  He has ideas of his own about probing the mysteries of life and death, but needs Frankenstein's help to proceed.  Specifically, he wants to create a female companion for The Monster (Boris Karloff).  Frankenstein is reluctant at first; however, when Pretorius and The Monster join forces, they blackmail him to participate.

While Frankenstein recovers from being tossed from a burning windmill, The Monster has escaped a fiery death and roams the countryside.  It doesn't take long for a mob to assemble and they actually capture him for a brief period of time until he also escapes their chains.  Again wandering on his own, he encounters a blind hermit for what may be the most iconic scene in Frankenstein history.

"I cannot see and you cannot speak," the hermit (O.P. Heggie) says, and when The Monster realizes someone accepts him for what he is, he sheds a single tear.  He's soon speaking, albeit in one-word expressions: bread, drink, smoke, friend = good; alone = bad.  Wood?  Wood = fire, which sends The Monster on the run again.  Hiding in a cemetery tomb, he meets Pretorius, who shares his plan.  Soon, The Monster has two new words: "Woman. Wife."

In subsequent versions of the story, the character of Pretorius doesn't exist.  The fact that he's here makes me wonder if it doesn't lessen the impact of the purpose for creating a mate for The Monster in the first place.  The Monster is basically a pawn for Pretorius's mad idea, instead of the driving force for his own wishes.  Also, holding Elizabeth (Valerie Hobson) hostage doesn't set the stake high enough when Frankenstein was originally so unconcerned about her.

In other words, it's all a little contrived.  However, it gets us to that finale, which is spectacular!  During the creation, the camera angles tilt, the edits speed up, the close-ups of Frankenstein and Pretorius increase.  It's very exciting, intense and suspenseful.  Then there's the reveal: "The bride of Frankenstein," as bells chime on the soundtrack.  In what is perhaps the second most iconic scene in Frankenstein history, she rejects her mate.

"She hate me.  Like others," The Monster realizes, while stumbling dangerously close to laboratory controls.  “Get away from that lever, you’ll blow us to atoms!” cries Pretorius.  In the final moments, The Monster is in control, determining who deserves redemption and who does not, who lives and who dies.  At the end of two movies, it seems The Monster has become the most human of them all.

Tomorrow: Werewolf of London!

The Mummy (1932)

For this year's Countdown to Halloween, it's all-Universal Monsters, all-the-time, from Dracula (1931) to The Creature Walks Among Us (1956).  Join me daily for a fresh perspective on movies you may not have watched in a long time, if ever.  Today, a monster whose popularity escapes me... The Mummy!

Of all the wonderful elements in Universal’s The Mummy (1932), there’s one that’s largely absent: a mummy.  The cloth-wrapped version of (Boris) Karloff “The Uncanny,” with makeup by the great Jack Pierce (Frankenstein), is not seen again after the first 12 minutes of the movie.  We don’t even see him walk; we see only a lingering strip of cloth as he exits the tomb from which he was resurrected by the recital of an ancient curse.

This is great for the mystery and imagination, but how and where did we get the iconic mage of a mummy shuffling along, one arm outstretched or perhaps both arms carrying a beautiful woman into a swamp?  It must have been from a subsequent mummy movie, of which there are many (at least five more from Universal itself.)  Fortunately, we still have Karloff for the entire movie, as well as fantastically moody direction by Karl Freund.

A year earlier, Freund was the Cinematographer on Dracula.  In what is in essence a remake of Dracula, Freund calls the shots behind the camera and the result is a consistently more atmospheric and moody production.  He loves that strip of light across his creatures’ eyes; used so effectively in Dracula, he repeats the technique here.  It makes Karloff’s unwrapped character 10 years later in the story, Ardath Bey, even more sinister than Bela Lugosi.

Bey is really Imhotep, an Egyptian priest who was buried alive for trying to resurrect the woman he loved, princess Ankh-es-en-amon.  In modern Cairo, he encounters Helen Grosvenor (Zita Johann), who is the reincarnation of his princess.  He plots to kill her, mummify her, and then resurrect her so that she can be his eternal bride.  (“I was buried alive.  I ask of you only a moment of agony.”)  Sound familiar?  That’s often where the comparison to Dracula is made.

Having forgotten that The Mummy was largely mummy-less until I re-watched it recently, I now am a little more forgiving of Universal’s 1999 version, an action-packed epic masquerading as a horror film.  In retrospect, it does a pretty good job of harvesting the core elements from its predecessor.  I won’t say one of the elements in The Mummy (1932) is action; however, it is quite suspenseful and relies more heavily on supernatural forces instead of a particular monster itself.

I’m a little perplexed by the enduring popularity of the mummy as one of the evergreen monsters, along with Dracula, Frankenstein’s monster, the Wolf Man and/or the Creature from the Black Lagoon. What does a mummy actually do?  Sure, it’s a frightening image, and the dead brought back to life is usually scary.  But with the insane popularity of faster moving, hard to kill zombies, you’d think a creature that’s movements are restricted and can easily turn to dust would be rather ho-hum.

But I digress.  The Mummy (1932), regardless of the monster, is a worthy addition to the roster of Universal Monsters, within the context of their 1930’s origins.  It’s the first movie that’s mystery unfolds during the time it was made; Dracula and Frankenstein took place in the past.  It also gained huge momentum from the public’s fascination with mummies, as demonstrated following the discovery of Tutankhamun’s (King Tut’s) tomb in 1922.

Tomorrow: The Invisible Man!

Frankenstein (1931)

For this year's Countdown to Halloween, it's all-Universal Monsters, all-the-time, from Dracula (1931) to The Creature Walks Among Us (1956).  Join me daily for a fresh perspective on movies you may not have watched in a long time, if ever.  Today, perhaps my favorite... Frankenstein!

Until I re-watched it recently, I would have told you that the "monster" in Frankenstein was simply misunderstood, a mere victim of circumstance.  However, I'm now reconsidering that assessment and am willing to argue that the creature stitched together from dead bodies and brought to life by science was, in the absolute sense of the word, a true monster.  In fact, as an older and wiser man, there are several things about Universal's 1931 horror classic that I never consciously realized until now.

First of all, in making my case that Henry Frankenstein's experiment was a true monster, let me remind you that it was installed with a criminal (abnormal) brain when hunchback assistant Fritz dropped the glass bottle containing the normal brain.  It's hard to imagine the corrupt neural pathways of an abnormal brain were corrected when transplanted into a new head.  Likewise, it's hard to imagine that a criminal mind brought back to life would suddenly have turned over a new leaf.

Next, we've always assumed that Fritz was a cruel sadist when taunting the monster with fire.  However, we don't really know why he does that.  Perhaps there's a reason.  Is there a scene we didn't see where the monster purposely terrified Fritz?  Maybe he's scared of it instead of trying to demonstrate superiority over it.  Yes, Fritz seems to be the aggressor in the scene we do see, but remember, he's simple.  He's the one responsible for the abnormal brain in the first place.

So what about the scene where the monster throws little Maria into the lake after running out of flower petals?  Surely that was a result of innocent confusion.  Except, what if it wasn't?  If you're with me so far, it's not a stretch to say his action was purposeful and he murdered the child.  This doesn't change the motivation of the angry, torch-bearing mob; however, it definitely changes our entire set of feelings toward what ultimately happens to the monster.  He's no longer a victim; instead, he's a villain.

Finally, we don't know from what kind of criminal the monster's brain was harvested.  Listen to its growl when, on her wedding night, Elizabeth turns to find it lurking behind her.  She screams and it growls, not angrily, but lasciviously.  Why did it come after Henry's bride, anyway?  If it were a confused, innocent creature, wouldn't it have run as far as it could from its creator?  It's almost like it knew that threatening Elizabeth would hurt Henry more than physically harming him.

Frankenstein was made in the early 1930s.  I'm certain the filmmakers did not intend for the monster to be a child molester or sexual predator.  Based on these points, though, I get a little vibe of that.  What complicates all this is that, even if the monster is pure evil, the performance by Boris Karloff is sympathetic.  If my theory is true, we feel sorry for him regardless.  We could spin it all a positive way and say the movie demonstrates how we have the capacity to forgive people who do terrible things.

There's also a story the movie doesn't tell about a possible Henry-Elizabeth-Victor Moritz triangle.  Early in the movie when Victor and Elizabeth discuss the absence of Henry, he's opaquely hostile toward Henry, more than what is suggested by his comment that Henry's manner was "very strange" when he saw him three weeks ago.  Later, when Dr. Waldman, Victor and Elizabeth visit Henry in his laboratory, Henry is visibly hostile toward Victor, focusing all his anger directly on him.

While this dynamic suggests Elizabeth may have had a "thing" for Victor before or during her relationship with Henry, Baron Frankenstein places the blame for any romantic complications to his son.  He believes Henry's absence on the eve of his wedding is due to another woman.  Henry isn't too fond of his father, either, stating that he "never believes in anyone."  That relationship carries through from Henry as a father to his "son," the creature with which he is also disappointed.

Again, I'm not saying that any of these ideas purposefully come from the intentions of the filmmakers; I'm saying that they crossed my mind when watching Frankenstein for the first time in many years.  Also, I'm not looking at the character based on subsequent Universal sequels; I'm simply commenting within the context of one movie.  Bride of Frankenstein is historically considered the more subversive movie, but perhaps James Whale, the director of both, infused a little subtext into the original as well.

Tomorrow: The Mummy!