THE FACE BEHIND THE MASK (1941)

Robert Florey, 1941

Starring: Peter Lorre, Evelyn Keyes, Don Beddoe

A Hungarian immigrant, Janos Szabo, comes to New York with a hopeful heart, though he nearly loses his money, and a friendly detective helps him find lodgings and work in a nearby hotel. Unfortunately, during his first night there, he is badly burned when the hotel catches fire. He survives, but his face is horribly disfigured and Janos can’t find work anywhere, despite his many skills and experience as a watchmaker. No one will talk to him or even look at him without revulsion and horror. He is about to kill himself by jumping into the river when he meets Dinky, a kind thief who takes Janos under his wing. Dinky soon falls ill and to care for him, Janos embraces a life of crime. 

Soon he is successful enough that he takes over the gang and can afford to buy a latex mask that resembles his own face. He also meets a beautiful blind woman, Helen, and falls in love. Janos tries to leave the gang and they fear it is because he has become a police informant. In response, they try to kill Janos, but accidentally kill Helen. He disguises himself and flies the gang out into the desert, where they will all die slowly of starvation in order for Janos to get his revenge. 

Though there are elements of horror, particularly towards the conclusion, this is really more of a crime film, almost a proto-noir. Like later noir cinema, this is essentially about outsiders and the failure of the American dream with an ending that rejects happiness or redemption for any of the characters. Lorre was also in Stranger on the Third Floor (1940), another early noir considered by some to be the first in the genre. He and director Robert Florey also worked together on The Beast with Five Fingers, though Florey is best known for the Bela Lugosi vehicle Murders in the Rue Morgue. This is one of his strongest films and it benefits from the German expressionist-like cinematography from Franz Planer. Planer, like Lorre, Murnau, Freund, and a number of other horror filmmakers and actors, recently emigrated from Germany and sought work in Hollywood.

The script by Paul Jarrico (Tom, Dick and Harry and many more until he was blacklisted by McCarthy), Arthur Levinson, and Allen Vincent was adapted from a play, Interim, by Thomas Edward O’Connell. The film deals with some issues not often tackled by horror of the period: crime, poverty, justice, and other wartime era social issues. While these bear far more in common with crime drama, Janos’s character is almost a classic horror villain. Almost like Frankenstein’s Monster he is deformed, yet innocent, desperate for human interaction or, at the least, a kind word. 

Everyone is so unkind to him that it is no wonder he is forced to turn to a life of crime for simple survival. There are moments that seem overly melodramatic, but overall Janos’s character is incredibly sympathetic, if not outright tragic. Lorre’s Janos is an outsider in every sense of the word. He is a foreigner, then later facially disabled, then a criminal, and then an outsider in his own gang because he has fallen in love and wants to reform. Lorre is particularly skilled at playing these characters, which he also does in M, Mad Love, The Beast with Five Fingers, and many more. Lorre gives a great performance here and it is somewhat incredible that this film is mostly ignored and forgotten.

His costars, George E. Stone (Some Like It Hot) as Dinky and the lovely Evelyn Keyes (The Seven Year Itch) as Helen, are also quite likable and don’t exaggerate their performances like some of the other side actors. It is also possible that we like them simply because they are the only people in the entire film who are kind to Janos, even though he starts out as innocent and sweet. 

The effects are simply, but creepy, with Lorre’s mask little more than some white make up and tape in the corners of his face. We barely see his burned, deformed face and for the first half of the film, he angles his face off camera with one exception: the scene where he glimpses his mutilated face in a mirror, shrieks with horror, and has a meltdown in the hospital. 

The Face Behind the Mask is primarily recommended for anyone who loves noir, non-supernatural early horror, or Peter Lorre. The film is available on YouTube, but, as far as I can tell, sadly still lacks an official DVD release. 

DR. JEKYLL AND MR. HYDE (1941)

Victor Fleming, 1941

Starring: Spencer Tracy, Ingrid Bergman, Lana Turner

This 1941 adaptation of Robert Louis Stevenson’s The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde is an almost shot for shot remake of Rouben Mamoulian’s 1931 film, which took some liberties with Stevenson’s story. Dr. Henry Jekyll, famous around London for his benevolence and brilliance, has been experimenting with a way to separate man’s bad and good natures, in order to liberate the positive aspect. Meanwhile, he is anxiously awaiting marriage to his beloved Beatrix, whose conservative father insists they wait. He rescues a lovely young barmaid, Ivy, from a man attacking her and she makes advances towards him. Beatrix’s father takes her away for a few months because he is uncomfortable with her growing closeness to Jekyll. 

In his agonized boredom, Jekyll experiments with a drug that splits his identity and transforms him into the grotesque Mr. Hyde, a man of many appetites. Hyde seeks out Ivy and convinces her to a partnership in exchange for financial support. She soon comes to regret this and sees the worst of Hyde’s violent, cruel nature. She seeks out Jekyll and begs him for help. He promises Hyde will never bother her again, but he doesn’t realize that he will now transform into Hyde without the aid of the drug. Beatrix returns and secures an earlier wedding date, but before they can announce it, Jekyll unexpectedly transforms into Hyde and murders Ivy. He runs from the police and reveals himself to Jekyll’s friend in order to get the potion to transform. Jekyll, horrified by himself, goes to break off his engagement with Beatrix. But with Hyde make a final appearance?

Instead of adapting Stevenson’s novel, this is a direct remake of the 1931 version of the film. This seems like a baffling choice, as there is almost no way it could compete with Mamoulian’s fantastic version starring Fredric March. Bafflingly, MGM seem to have known that, as they bought every available print of Mamoulian's film and tried to have them all destroyed. As a result, the earlier and far superior version was believed lost for years.

Director Victor Fleming, known for such landmark films as Gone with the Wind and The Wizard of Oz, sadly fails here and this is little more than a watered down, conservative film that strips nearly all the horror and sexual repression from the original. There is one excellent scene worth noting. When Jekyll first transforms into Hyde, Fleming tackles the scene by transforming it into one long, Freudian hallucination, ripe with symbolism. Jekyll whips two horses, though they soon transform into a naked Ivy and Beatrix, who he whips with an almost religious fervor. 

The real draw here is the impressive roster of names - Bergman, Tracy, Turner, and director Fleming - though I think their collective involvement makes the film even more disappointing. Though Bergman really shines in her first scene with Jekyll, she is hamstrung by a script that forces her to do nothing for much of the film. Her attempt at a cockney accent is also painful and she is simply too beautiful and elegant to really carry the role of a cheap London prostitute (though here Ivy is a barmaid). 

A lovely, young Lana Turner does her best, though she is also up against the script, which requires Beatrice to be little more than a stock love interest, the “good girl” role that was initially meant for Bergman. There are a number of other familiar faces, including Donald Crisp (The Uninvited) as Beatrice’s stuffy father and Ian Hunter (Tower of London) as Jekyll’s uptight friend, Lanyon.

Tracy is a major disappointment and simply cannot carry the role. He was clearly miscast and later regarded this as one of his biggest failures. And to think that he chose this project over The Philadelphia Story. As Jekyll, he lacks the obsessed conviction and almost painful sexual repression March conveyed. As Hyde, he looks ridiculously like Jekyll and it is amazing that no one noticed they were the same person earlier in the film. His Hyde is also not remotely frightening and is instead a slick charmer with malicious undertones. Characters react to his face with fear and revulsion, which is simply absurd.

Despite the fact that Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde wasn’t particularly successful, it was nominated for a number of Academy Awards, including Best Cinematography and Best Music. There is some very lovely cinematography from Joseph Ruttenberg, though it only truly shines in a couple of fog drenched scenes where Hyde runs through Victorian London. It’s a shame that this adaptation fell so flat, as it had so much potential with the impressive cast and crew. 

I can’t recommend the film - though the 1931 version is a must see - but it will be interesting for Jekyll and Hyde fans, as well as Begman and Tracy fans. Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde is available for a streaming rental on Amazon or as a double feature with the 1931 Mamoulian version, though the disc is now out of print and is quite expensive. 

THE AWFUL DR. ORLOF

Jess Franco, 1962
Starring: Howard Vernon, Diana Lorys, Perla Cristal, Richard Valle

Allegedly the first Spanish horror film, The Awful Dr. Orlof (1962) aka Gritos en la noche is one of Jess Franco’s finest films, and though there are thematic similarities, bears little in common with his later, more surreal and erotic works. Kino Lorber and Redemption have released a trilogy of his films on Blu-ray in the wake of the director’s death earlier this year, including the obscure Nightmares Come At Night and A Virgin Among the Living Dead. The Awful Dr. Orlof is undoubtedly the most accessible of these films and should be seen by all horror fans, regardless of how they feel about the late, great, and often difficult to fathom director.

Former prison doctor, the demented Orlof, uses his deformed, blind assistant Morpho to kidnap, torture, and murder lovely young women. His ultimate goal is to restoring the face of his once beautiful, but badly burned daughter, Melissa, who he keeps locked up in a caged room while he desperately tries to heal her. A local police officer, Inspector Tanner, is put on the case when over five women are kidnapped and his plucky ballet dancer fiancée, Wanda, decides to help him out when his investigation plods along. Unfortunately for Wanda, she bears a startling resemblance to Orlof’s daughter and attracts his unsavory attention...

As I said above, this is likely the Jess Franco film that even steadfast Franco-haters will enjoy. It benefits from a wonderful atmosphere that combines traditional Gothic visuals with a Belle Epoque setting and there are numerous shots of Orlof’s creepy castle and laboratory, fog, cobble-stoned streets, candelabras, etc. Orlof uses a coffin to transport unconscious women to his castle and his methods of torture and medical experimentation get far more extreme as the film goes on. 

While the plot borrows a lot from Georges Franju’s seminal Eyes Without a Face (1960), I agree with Tim Lucas (in his commentary) that Franco was also likely influenced by the urban murder mysteries of Edgar Wallace, particularly The Dead Eyes of London, which involves a murderous blind henchman very similar to Morpho. The Dead Eyes of London (1961) was adaptation for both the British and German screen, though German Edgar Wallace adaptations, known as krimi, went on to influence the developing giallo genre and likely Franco himself.

There are some decent performances, namely from Diana Lorys (Blue Eyes of the Broken Doll) as Wanda. She would go on to star in Franco’s Nightmares Come At Night and here bears a striking resemblance to French actress Yvonne Monlaur from Hammer’s Brides of Dracula and Circus of Horrors. Perla Cristal is not on screen long, but gives a compelling performance as Orlof’s reluctant former mistress who grows increasingly horrified by his actions. But this is undeniably Howard Vernon’s film. Though he starred or appeared in a number of Franco films, he is excellent as Dr. Orlof, equally suave, charming, creepy, manipulative, and sociopathic. He has the kind of face that is endlessly fascinating, which Franco likely noticed.

Richard Valle doesn’t have a lot to do as Dr. Orlof’s henchman Morpho other than lumber about murderously, but he is surprisingly effective. The make up design is odd and a little silly, and at times he looks like a papier-mâché Marty Feldman, but he is undeniably creepy. His roaming hands, which touch the women he is unable to see, provide a sado-sexual element absent from other films of this time, or, if present, were certainly more subdued. Probably the dullest and least successful elements of the film involve our hero Inspector Tanner (Conrado San Martin) and his scenes interacting with witnesses or other police officers. Lorys steals every scene from him and it is no wonder she takes it upon herself to solve the murders before her bumbling fiancé gets a chance.

The Awful Dr. Orlof is presented on Blu-ray in a nice 1080p/AVC MPEG-4 print that was restored from a complete 35mm negative. As with Redemption’s other titles, the restoration is not intensive and though The Awful Dr. Orlof looks better than it ever has, there are some issues with age damage. There are white flecks and scratches, but they don’t distract from from the print in any noticeable way. Godofredo Pacheo’s lush black and white cinematography looks excellent and the detail rich sets are lovelier than ever. 

Though The Awful Dr. Orlof was originally filmed in Spanish, Redemption presents the original French dub and English dub, which are uncompressed Linear PCM 2.0 mono tracks with optional English subtitles. As with the other recent Redemption Franco releases, I highly recommend the French track over the English, which simply feels stilted and awkward. Either way, the audio is clear and dialogue sounds great. There are some very minimal issues, including occasional hissing and popping, but these are barely noticeable. The wonderful score from Jose Pagan and Antonio Ramirez Angel sounds lovely and is one of the finest elements of The Awful Dr. Orlof. It is equally modern and jazzy, but in its own pleasantly weird way that perfectly fits the tone of the film. 

As with Redemption’s other recent Franco Blu-ray releases, there are some nice extras. There’s yet another excellent audio commentary from Video Watchdog editor Tim Lucas that makes this release well worth purchasing if you already happen to own the film. There is also The Young Dr. Orlof Chronicles, a twenty minute making-of featurette with interviews and behind the scenes info. The Horror of Orlof is a nice interview with Franco about the production. Jess! What Are You Doing Now? is a short collection of interviews with Franco’s friends about his legacy. This is included in both the Nightmares Come at Night and A Virgin Among the Living Dead Blu-rays as well. Also included is a stills gallery and a number of trailers. 

The Awful Dr. Orlof may not feel like a Franco films to his critics, but it is a delightful example of early Spanish horror than blends together some of his regular themes: beautiful, spirited women, performers, mad scientists, voyeurism, characters that futilely hope to recreate the past, horrific henchman, and more. If you are a Franco newbie or skeptic considering revisiting his catalogue, this is an excellent place to start and comes highly recommended. Kino and Redemption have done a lovely job with the Blu-ray transfer and The Awful Dr. Orlof looks better than it ever has. 

THE RETURN OF DOCTOR X

Vincent Sherman, 1939

Starring: Humphrey Bogart, Wayne Morris, Rosemary Lane

Based on a short story, William J. Makin’s “The Doctor’s Secret,” this is not in fact a sequel to Doctor X, though it is thematically somewhat similar. A reporter, Walter Garrett, goes to interview a beautiful, reclusive actress, and finds her dead on her apartment floor, stabbed through the heart. When he summons the police, the body has disappeared and she later turns up alive, to Garrett’s confusion and his boss’s outrage. A number of other odd murder occur around the city. He consults with a doctor friend, Mike Rhodes, and the trail leads them to hematologist Dr. Flegg, who has been performing a number of interesting experiments with blood. His assistant, Quesne (pronounced “Cane”) disturbs the men and bears an odd resemblance to the infamous Dr. Xavier, who was executed for performing fatal experiments on children. It seems that Flegg brought Xavier back from the dead, though he didn’t come back quite right...

The Return of Doctor X is really only worth seeing because of Humphrey Bogart. His first appearance pretty much sets the tone for the rest of the film. He shows up in a dark suit, boasting some very white, waxy skin, carrying a bunny rabbit and sporting a Bride of Frankenstein-like white lock in his hair. This was his only horror (or sci-fi) film and he absolutely hated it, but there is something truly delightful about watching him ghoulishly ham it up for a couple of scenes. Of course, I am a huge Bogie fan and would probably watch a DVD of him watching paint dry. 

The main issue is that Bogart doesn’t appear until about a third of the way through and isn’t in it nearly enough. Wayne Morris (Paths of Glory, The Smiling Ghost) as the reporter and Dennis Morgan (Kitty Foyle) as the doctor are really the focus of the plot. Though they are dull and bland for most of the film, they become more likable towards the conclusion, which probably means the issue is with the slow, talky script and not the actors. John Litel (who looks remarkably like Ben Kingsley) is good, if a little bland as Dr. Flegg. Flegg isn’t quite a villain, but like Henry Frankenstein bit off far more than he could chew in the reviving dead bodies department. As with Morris and Morgan, he comes to life a bit more in the final act, though that is probably due to the script finally livening up and become less dialogue heavy.

Director Vincent Sherman was better known for the Errol Flynn film The Adventures of Don Juan (1948), noir films Nora Prentiss (1947) and The Unfaithful (1947), and a few Joan Crawford vehicles, such as The Damned Don’t Cry! (1950). He got his start with The Return of Dr. X, where his obvious preference for noir and crime films is definitely felt. Aside from the title, the connections to Doctor X are scant. While both films are blends of sci-fi and horror that focus on bizarre murders and a mad scientist, outside of the journalist protagonist and feeble attempts at humor, they are totally different animals. Doctor X has some dull, talky moments, but it is definitely a horror film, while The Return of Dr. X only touches on horror and clearly favors crime drama. 

There are also some other genre tropes that squeeze their way in: annoyed cops who regard Garrett and Rhodes’ crime solving and supremely irritating and what is supposed to be a romantic subplot with a pretty young nurse who just happens to fit Xavier’s blood type and is next on his list of victims. She of course has a crush on Dr. Mike and he has to rush to save her. 

There’s not a lot to recommend about The Return of Dr. X, but as I mentioned, evil Humphrey Bogart carrying around his bunny friend is a wonder to behold. You can find the film in the Hollywood Legends of Horror collection that includes The Devil-Doll, The Mask of Fu Manchu, Mad Love, Doctor X, and Mark of the Vampire.

THE DEVIL BAT

Jean Yarbrough, 1940

Starring: Bela Lugosi, Suzanne Kaaren, Dave O’Brien, Guy Usher

A chemist, Dr. Carruthers, is driven mad by years of being cheated by his wealthy employers who have used his perfume formulas to get rich. In revenge, he creates a giant devil bat and a corresponding shaving lotion that will draw the bat to its wearer, so the giant winged creature can attack and kill. Carruthers manages to murder a few of his partners (and their family members) before attracting the attention of a local reporter, who is determined to get to the bottom of things with this help of a photographer.

PRC, Producers’ Releasing Corporation is a prime example of what became known as “poverty row,” a series of studios making absolutely bottom of the barrel films. The Devil Bat is probably the best of these and all the poverty row characteristics are in place. The primary actors were normally extras or, at most, given bit parts in other films, with the exception of one fading star, in this case Lugosi. The effects and sets are laughably cheap - though the bat's screaming is pretty amazing - but it gives the whole thing an undeniable sort of charm, at least if you love cheap and trashy genre films. To give you a better idea, this is basically two steps away from being an Ed Wood film and he was no doubt inspired by the horror films of poverty row. If you’re interested, you can learn more in Tom Weavers’ book Poverty Row Horror!

This is definitely a so-bad-it’s-good affair and will only be enjoyed by a certain audience. There is a lot of painful padding, such as numerous scenes between the reporter and his boss, many shots of newspaper headlines, and a significant amount of time spent with Lugosi playing around in his lab, not doing anything in particular.

Lugosi is of course the reason to bother seeing The Devil Bat and gives some truly hilarious speeches dripping with some terrible, yet enjoyable jokes. My favorite moment is when he listens to another scientist ramble on during a radio broadcast about the recently killed first devil bat. He calls the man a “bombastic ignoramus” when he guesses incorrectly that the creature is a surviving relic of prehistoric life, rather than a laboratory experiment. And this is only a taste of what he has to offer in The Devil Bat. This is also probably the only film he has ever appeared in where his character did not unmercilessly creep on a young woman, usually the female protagonist. 

The rest of the cast is forgettable. The reporter is played by David O’Brien, a regular in low budget genre films like The Ghost Creeps (1940) and Spooks Run Wild (1941). His photographer side kick, the unfortunate comic relief, is played by the wildly prolific Donald Kerr (Cat People). Suzanne Kaaren (Miracles for Sale), though lovely, is one of the worst actors in the film and delivers dialogue so flat you can almost image someone out of frame holding up a cue card. Yolande Donlan (wife of Hammer horror director Val Guest) makes a nice appearance as a flirtatious French maid. 

Director Jean Yarbrough worked regularly, but is known for little outside of a few lesser Universal horror efforts such as She Wolf of London (1946), a murder mystery not remotely about a werewolf, and the stylish if dumb Rondo Hatton double feature House of Horrors (1946) and The Brute Man (1946). He also directed Hillbillys in a Haunted House (1967) with Lon Chaney, Jr., Basil Rathbone, and John Carradine. The plot is so ludicrous that I may have to see it just to confirm it is real and not made up by the internet.

Though The Devil Bat has been making the rounds online and on cheap DVDs for years, as it is in the public domain, all the existing prints so far have been atrocious. Kino has done a great job restoring this to a 1080p/AVC-encoded transfer with an aspect ratio of 1.32:1. It’s an understatement to say that the film has never looked this good, despite the fact that Kino doesn’t do in depth restorations for their Blu-ray releases. There is a lot of age damage - scratches, specks, moments of sudden brightness - but they are far less distracting here than in the previous prints of the film. Though it could have used a little more clean up, it is unlikely any company other than Kino will ever make the effort and I doubt there will ever be a better looking release of this neglected film.

There is an uncompressed Linear PCM 2.0 English mono track that sounds decent, though, as with the print, is age damaged. There is some mild hissing throughout, as well as frequent crackling. The dialogue is still easy to hear and there aren’t any major issues. No subtitles are included. 

Outside of a trailer for White Zombie, another enjoyable, low budget Bela Lugosi film, the only real extra is an informative commentary from film historian Richard Harlan Smith. I’m a sucker for commentary tracks and Smith does an excellent job delivering equal amounts of information, humor, and enthusiasm for both the film and the time period. Highly recommended for anyone interested in Lugosi or ‘30s and ‘40s horror. 

The Devil Bat is so much fun that I can’t help but recommend it, though it is definitely an acquired taste and anyone expecting sophistication or a lavish budget need not apply. I’ve been watching a lot of classic American horror lately and it’s refreshing to see this minor camp gem rescued from relative obscurity and restored to Blu-ray. Kino Lorber has done an honorable job, as always, though it would be nice to have a few more extras. Hopefully we’ll see some more lesser known Lugosi titles from them in the future. 

SWEENEY TODD: THE DEMON BARBER OF FLEET STREET (1936)

George King, 1936

Starring: Tod Slaughter, Stella Rho, John Singer, Eve Lister, Bruce Seton

Sweeney Todd, a London barber, charms gentlemen newly arrived at the docks of London back to his shop for a shave. But instead of grooming them, he kills them for profit by using a mechanical chair to dump their bodies into the basement. The corpses go to Mrs. Lovett, Sweeney’s neighbor, who sells meat pies. Meanwhile a local young woman, Johanna, is frustrated that she can’t marry her love, Mark. Her father refuses because Mark is too poor, but Mark goes out to sea to win in his fortune. While Mark is gone, Sweeney makes a number of financial agreements with Mr. Oakley, Johanna’s father, and soon turns it to his advantage. He hopes to marry Johanna and begins wooing her. Mark returns with an advanced station in life and a sizable fortune. Will he pay a visit to Sweeney’s chair?

Though its plot has changed somewhat over the years, Sweeney Todd is essentially the only surviving remnant of the penny dreadful, a Victorian pop culture phenomenon that spread from pulp magazines to cheap theater productions and beyond. You can read more about penny dreadfuls and the origins of Sweeney Todd in my lengthy article, “Victorian Penny Gaffs: Crime, Horror, and Murder.” Suffice it to say that many people have heard of Sweeney Todd, the murderous barber who cuts his neighbors throats and gives their corpses to Mrs. Lovett to bake into her very profitable meat pies. Stephen Sondheim went on to make him a tragic, sympathetic figure, driven to murder to protect his estranged daughter, but the original Sweeney was a villain, through and through.

With this 1936 adaptation, it is important to note that if you don’t already know the general story, the film might be a little confusing. Though there are multiple references to a deal between Sweeney and Mrs. Lovett and it is implied that she does away with the corpses, no one explicitly mentions that she is serving human flesh in her very popular meat pies. Sweeney also does not slit any throats and instead relies on a mechanical chair with a trap door to launch his unwitting victims to the floor and break their necks. While it is again implied that he probably slits their throats if they survive the fall, as Mark does at the conclusion of the film, this is next explicitly shown or described.

Though this has some enjoyable elements, it’s really a shame that this couldn’t have been made a few years earlier when some racier horror was being produced. Though fans of Victorian-style melodrama and Sweeney Todd devotees will no doubt find it entertaining, horror fans will likely be confused, as nearly all the over-the-top violence of the original play (and later musical and films) was excised from the plot. Still, horror and melodrama actor Tod Slaughter is delightful as Sweeney and he makes the film worth seeing for anyone unfamiliar with his work.

Sweeney Todd was to Slaughter what Dracula was for Bela Lugosi. This was his signature role and he played the character over 2,000 times on stage. His acting may rub some modern viewers the wrong way, as he was trained in a melodramatic style of acting that is somewhat of an acquired taste by today’s standards. Personally, I think he is delightfully over the top. Slaughter and director George King collaborated together a number of other times, generally on crime-themed melodramas or horror films. 

Victorian England looks fantastic, as do the costumes, but depending on the quality of the print you watch, it may be hard to tell. There is an odd scene included in the film where Mark’s ship arrives in Africa at a shipwreck and he has to fight off warriors. It feels incredibly out of place and seems like filler, but there are some nice jungle sets. While this attempts to explain how Mark became a captain and won his fortune, that could probably have been done with a line or two of dialogue. 

Overall I can only recommend Sweeney Todd to die hard fans. It is available in a number of places online and on a cheap region 2 DVD from Odeon, as well as a split region 1 release with Crimes at the Dark House.

THE DEVIL-DOLL

Tod Browning, 1936

Starring: Lionel Barrymore, Maureen O’Sullivan, Rafaela Ottiano

Though this was director Tod Browning’s (Dracula, Freaks) second to last film, after his career was basically ruined by Freaks, it has the same undeniable weirdness as many of his films. The premise is so insane it hardly seems like it can be real. After being framed for murder, a man disguising himself as an old woman and uses scientifically altered miniature humans to get revenge on his enemies. Despite or maybe because of this, The Devil-Doll is one of Browning’s most enjoyable films. 

Paul Lavond and Marcel escape from the infamous Devil’s Island prison. Many years ago, Paul was wrongly convicted for murder and robbery and wants to get revenge on his three associated that framed him. Marcel is a scientist on the verge of figuring how to turn humans and animals into miniatures one-sixth their size. He believes this will solve the problem of limited resources in the ever-expanding world. Lavond meets Marcel’s wife, Malita, who has been continuing his experiments while he is in prison, and the results of the experiments themselves: a number of tiny dogs who can be controlled by human will. 

Lavond is appalled to discover that Marcel has miniaturized his servant, Lachna. The transformation has damaged her brain and, like the animals, she can be controlled. Deeply upset, Marcel has a heart attack and dies. Malita agrees to help Lavond with his plans for revenge and they take the equipment, as well as the tiny Lachna, and return to Paris. There they open a toy store and Lavond takes the disguise of Madame Mandelip, a kindly old woman, because a reward is out for his arrest. Here Lavond attempts to use Lachna to wipe out the three men that framed him and reunite with his bitter daughter, Lorraine, who lives a poor and degraded life because of his alleged crimes and notoriety. And how will Malita respond when Lavond’s quest for vengeance is complete?

Part drama, part sci-fi horror, and part revenge film, The Devil Doll’s script is a little all over the place, but it somehow works very well. It’s a little unbelievable that this movie is as good as it is with a premise so completely absurd. Though this is very loosed based by Abraham Merritt’s novel Burn, Witch Burn, it borrows far more from Browning’s earlier film with Lon Chaney, The Unholy Three, which also includes a revenge plot and a main character that cross-dresses as an old woman. The script was written by Browning and such notables as author Guy Endor (The Werewolf of Paris) and influential filmmaker Erich von Stroheim (Greed). 

The effects are enjoyable and though some of them are unforgivably cheesy by today’s standards, other hold up quite well. It’s a shame that the miniature people and other sci-fi elements weren’t given a bigger role in the film and were essentially pushed aside to make room for more melodrama. The miniature people here are certainly more convincing than the miniatures James Whale included briefly in The Bride of Frankenstein.

The film only really suffers from the unnecessary saccharine, melodramatic elements, namely the multiple scenes with Lavond and his daughter, and her romance with Toto, a cab driver. The script also skims over a number of elements: Lavond may now be declared innocent, but he ruined several lives to get there. It also ignores the nature of his relationship with Malita. She follows along seemingly because her husband is dead and she will be able to continue with his experiments, but they don’t make any progress and only use the miniature people for revenge. Finally, the film doesn’t really raise any moral issues about the little people in general and Lavond only has a small bit of dialogue about how he doesn’t know what to do with them now that his revenge is complete. 

Despite the flimsy plot, The Devil-Doll is engaging and very entertaining, mostly thanks to the very weird premise and Lionel Barrymore. While I’ve enjoyed Barrymore in a number of other films, he’s delightful as Lavond. Though he is somewhat restrained in the beginning and end of the film, where he actually appears his Lavond, his drag portrayal of Madame Mandelip is amazingly over the top and must be seen. There are some moments where he is incredibly sinister and seems to be thoroughly enjoying himself. It is a shame that the film didn’t take advantage of the toy store set to the fullest, though it certainly adds an extra element of the weird. 

Rafaela Ottiano is also excellent as Malita, which marks the rare appearance of a female mad scientist in classic horror. She even has a Bride of Frankenstein-like white streak in her hair. Ottiano is given far too little screen time and often yanks the rug out from under Barrymore by seemingly doing very little, but looking very over the top whatever she does. There are also appearances from a number of classic horror actors, such as Lavond’s enemies, played by Arthur Hohl (Island of Lost Souls), Robert Grieg (The Picture of Dorian Gray), Pedro de Cordoba (The Beast with Five Fingers), and his daughter’s boyfriend, played by Frank Lawton (The Invisible Ray). 

Though this won’t appeal to everyone, it comes highly recommended and is worthy of watching at least once for sheer weirdness. The Devil-Doll is available in the Hollywood Legends of Horror collection, which also includes Browning’s Mark of the Vampire (another Lionel Barrymore vehicle), Doctor X, The Return of Doctor X, Mad Love, and The Mask of Fu Manchu.