THE GHOST OF FRANKENSTEIN

Erle C. Kenton, 1942

Starring: Lon Chaney, Jr., Cedric Hardwicke, Bela Lugosi, Lionel Atwill, Evelyn Ankers

The fourth film in the Frankenstein series and the first to feature a new Monster — Wolf Man Lon Chaney, Jr. instead of Boris Karloff — this is also the first film to enter into B-movie territory and represents a real change of form for Universal horror: unintentional self-parody. Picking up sometime after Son of Frankenstein left off, the residents of the village near Frankenstein’s castle (the village now bears the name Frankenstein as well for some reason) detonate the castle due to their lingering superstitions. The recently revived Ygor frees the Monster from his underground tomb and they flee to the woods. The Monster is struck by lightening during a storm and Ygor decides to locate Henry Frankenstein’s son, Ludwig, to try to fix the Monster. 

It just so happens that Ludwig, along with two of his colleagues, has invented a new kind of surgery that allows the removal and repair of a diseased brain. Though the villagers get wind of the Monster and capture, imprison, and try him in court, Ygor convinces Ludwig to take up the case. Ludwig’s daughter, Elsa, is afraid of the Monster and is suspicious that her father is hiding it somewhere in their mansion. Her boyfriend Erik, the town prosector, has the same fears and is determined to bring the creature to justice. Ygor, meanwhile, intends to have his own brain implanted in the Monster’s body, so that he can shed his own mangled form and have free reign for his nefarious plans... 

Sadly, The Ghost of Frankenstein is essentially a B-level parody of the rest of the series and not a particularly funny one at that. The Monster looks simply awful, production values are at a dramatic low, and I have no idea what they were thinking with the script. I’m glad Karloff is not here to be embarrassed by such a ridiculous film, though I can’t help but think that his presence would have at least given me more of a reason to sit through this very boring film that feels far longer than its 70 minute running time. Though Lugosi does return as Ygor, he is not given much to do other than tote the Monster around and wish for a new body. His character is almost wholesome here and his sinister side that emerges in the final act feels like an after thought. 

Director Earle C. Kenton (Island of Lost Souls, House of Frankenstein, House of Dracula) presumably does his best here and includes a number of explosions, fires, collapsing building, and expressionist-like storm scenes, but this is certainly one of the worst Universal sequels. There are numerous plot holes, including the miraculous revival of both Ygor and the Monster, and Lionel Atwill returns, though in another role entirely. Dr. Ludwig Frankenstein is a never before mentioned second son of Dr. Henry Frankenstein, who claims to have been raised in the area of the castle, where Henry’s son in Son of Frankenstein states that he grew up in America. The title, The Ghost of Frankenstein, refers to the fact that Henry (also played by Hardwicke) visits his son in ghostly form to encourage him to revive the Monster. What?

As far as I’m concerned, Chaney, Jr. is one of the worst incarnations of the Monster. He is physically large enough to fill Karloff’s platformed shoes, but lacks any of the pathos or sensitivity. It doesn’t help that he got what is essentially the bargain basement version of Jack Pierce’s make up and by this fourth film, the role of the Monster is extremely limited. He has some nice scenes with a little girl, but making the Monster into a public figure — he is corned by the entire town in the middle of the day, is arrested, jailed, and taken to trail — is a sad mockery that sets the tone for the rest of the film. There is simply no longer anyway to find the Monster frightening or even compelling. 

Elsa Frankenstein (Universal regular Evelyn Ankers) and her boyfriend Erik (Ralph Bellamy) are both wasted. Their romantic subplot is rushed through, seemingly in order to give the film a happy ending, and Ankers doesn’t have much to do other than run around the house in weird dresses and shriek at shadows. Cedric Hardwicke (The Ghoul, The Invisible Man Returns) is dry and unlikable as the surprise second son of Henry Frankenstein and Lionel Atwill is entertaining, but given too little screen time as his frustrated accomplice, Dr. Bohmer.

Hardcore fans of Universal horror might want to check this out simply out of curiousity and it does have some unintentionally hilarious moments. It’s a shame that this is the last true Frankenstein film, though the Monster (usually accompanied by a miscellaneous mad doctor/scientist) would reappear in monster mash-up films Frankenstein Meets the Wolf Man, House of Frankenstein, and House of Dracula. All of these are better than The Ghost of Frankenstein. It is available in Frankenstein: The Legacy Collection, which includes all five films in the series, as well as some nice special features. 

SON OF FRANKENSTEIN

Rowland V. Lee, 1939

Starring: Boris Karloff, Basil Rathbone, Bela Lugosi, Lionel Atwill

The third film in the Frankenstein series, this does not contain most of the original cast from Frankenstein and Bride of Frankenstein, but Boris Karloff does return one film time to don Jack Pierce’s iconic make up. Sadly Karloff is given limited screen time and the Monster is rendered mute for this final solid entry in the series (though it would be followed by the increasingly ridiculous Ghost of Frankenstein, House of Frankenstein, House of Dracula, and Frankenstein Meets the Wolfman). 

James Whale neglected to return to the series a third time, but Rowland V. Lee (Captain Kidd and Boris Karloff vehicle The Tower of London) does a solid job with a new spin on Mary Shelley’s classic story. Years after Bride of Frankenstein, Wolf von Frankenstein, son of Dr. Frankenstein, returns to his ancestral castle with his wife and (extremely annoying) child in the hopes that he can repair his father’s reputation. The villagers hate and fear him, though local Inspector Krogh coldly makes the family’s acquaintance in order to protect them from any hostile villagers. Krogh has his own history with the Monster, who ripped his arm off as a child, necessitating a fake arm and ruining a potential military career. 

Frankenstein meets Ygor, a deformed man hiding out in the abandoned castle, who escaped death by hanging with a broken neck and has become friends with the Monster, also lying dormant in the family crypt. Frankenstein, unable to resist his ancestral impulses, revives the Monster. Though he is not immediately violent, the Monster begins doing Ygor’s bidding, killing off the jury members who sentenced him to be hanged so many years ago. Frankenstein’s sanity begins to waver and Inspector Krogh is certain the Monster is involved in a recent string of murders.

This is a surprisingly good film bolstered by a number of compelling actors and strong performances. Bela Lugosi, who turned down the role of the Monster so many years before, joins the cast as the demented Ygor and nearly steals the film. Basil Rathbone and Lionel Atwill, two other Universal regulars, are solid as Wolf Frankenstein and Inspector Krogh. Son of Frankenstein was produced to help save Universal financially. Though Carl Laemmle and Laemmle, Jr., founders of Universal and spearheads of the early horror films, had been kicked out of the company in 1936, Universal noticed a boom in business when they re-released a double feature of Dracula and Frankenstein in theaters. This financial bump encouraged them to make Son of Frankenstein and return to their horror franchises throughout the ‘40s, bringing financial (though not necessarily critical) success back to the studio. 

Son of Frankenstein is unfortunately overly long, outstripping most Universal horror films from this period by almost 20 minutes. The first half of the film is compelling, basically up until the Monster “awakens” and Ygor’s manipulations of him are revealed and then the second half lags and becomes repetitive. The second half is also nearly impossible to watch without thinking of Mel Brooks’ fantastic comedy, Young Frankenstein. Though Young Frankenstein draws on elements of all the first three films, it takes the bulk of its material from Son of Frankenstein, which means that if you’ve seen Young significantly more than Son, it will be difficult to watch without a fair amount of giggles. While Basil Rathbone is far more likable than Colin Clive (Dr. Frankenstein in the first two films), he really ramps it up in the third act and teeters on the verge of hysteria, making for some very laughable scenes towards the end, particularly between he and Atwill. Lionel Atwill gives a strong performance as the deadly serious Inspector Krogh, though he is occasionally silly with his false arm (thanks a lot, Young Frankenstein).

Things come together in the end and though Karloff isn’t given nearly enough screen time or script material, he is excellent in the tear-stained finale, where he grieves bitterly over the body of Ygor, his only friend in the world. Lugosi is wonderful as Ygor, even though he plays a stupid flute (or is that a homemade oboe?) for several key scenes, and this is easily one of his best roles. He is the true villain of the film, manipulating the Monster to do his murderous bidding. I also enjoyed the new plot material that surrounds Ygor’s character; instead of rehashing Shelley’s plot, the real conflict is between Frankenstein, Ygor, and Inspector Krogh, with more of a focus on the battle of wills and morals than an unhealthy obsession with scientific discovery and its dark side. Themes of fatherhood and family responsibility are explored, also giving the film slightly more gravity. 

Though Son of Frankenstein was supposed to be shot in Technicolor, black and white film does the film many favors. The lovely set and cinematography are two of the film’s strongest points and it borrows heavily from German expressionism, looking far more like The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari than the first two Frankenstein films. The heavy shadows, winding staircases, swamp-like lab and mausoleum, nightmarish forests, and almost noir-like village rivals anything in the first two films. 

Son of Frankenstein is available in Frankenstein: The Legacy Collection set and comes somewhat highly recommended. This is a surprisingly good third film for a horror series, particularly considering where The Mummy descended to and that Son of Dracula is interesting, but often silly and deeply flawed. 

Boris Karloff (1887 - 1969)

William Henry Pratt, better known as Boris Karloff (though he never legally changed his name), is one of America’s most important and prolific horror icons. He would appear in over 200 films throughout his career and helped create Hollywood’s most memorable monster in the film Frankenstein. Though he was born and raised in England and educated at London University, where his family wanted him to become a diplomat, Karloff spent most of his adult life in North America. He emigrated first to Canada to join a touring acting company and eventually moved to Hollywood to try his fortunes in Hollywood. 

Though Karloff began appearing in silent films in 1919 and had bit parts or side roles in almost 80 films throughout the ‘20s and early ‘30s, he didn’t really get his start until Universal’s monster classic, Frankenstein (1931). Though he was billed as “?” in the film and considered so unimportant by Universal that he didn’t even warrant an invitation to the premier, he quickly became one of horror’s fastest rising stars. He returned four years later to star (with top billing) in director James Whale’s masterpiece, the sequel The Bride of Frankenstein (1935), and donned the make up for a final time in Son of Frankenstein (1939) alongside Bela Lugosi. He and Lugosi appeared in many horror films together over the next 20 years. 

Karloff starred or at least appeared in some of the most important horror films of the ‘30s, including another outing with director James Whale, The Old Dark House (1932), a cross between horror and whodunnit. He donned the make up of another iconic Universal monster in The Mummy (1932) where he starred as the titular Mummy, Imhotep. He starred as another Egyptologist in The Ghoul (1933) and alongside Lugosi in one of the finest horror films of the ‘30s, The Black Cat (1934), a post-WWI take on Poe with an Eastern European setting and a fortress full of Satanists. He and Lugosi appeared together again in The Raven (1935) and the sci-fi/horror hybrid The Invisible Ray (1936). Karloff also had notable roles in the gangster film Scarface (1932), the dark historical drama Tower of London (1939), which also included an early role for Vincent Price, and another dark drama, Devil’s Island (1939). 

Karloff’s East Indian ancestry allowed him to appear in more exotic roles and he was frequently cast as Chinese, Arabian, and American Indian characters (many of them villains). He appeared as the titular Fu Manchu in The Mask of Fu Manchu (1932) and in many other Asian-themed mystery films, such as Charlie Chan at the Opera (1936), West of Shanghai (1937), and as detective James Lee Wong in that series, including Mr. Wong, Detective (1938), The Mystery of Mr. Wong (1939), Mr. Wong in Chinatown (1939), The Fatal Hour (1940), and several others. 

In the ‘40s he appeared in campier horror films, many of which were the progenitors of what we think of as B-movies. He and Lugosi were back together for the Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde-influenced Black Friday (1940). In many of these films he played a mad scientist or doctor, including The Ape (1940), The Climax (1944), and House of Frankenstein (1944), a loose, final entry in the Frankenstein series. He agreed to appear in some of the Abbott and Costello horror spoofs, namely Abbott and Costello Meet the Killer, Boris Karloff (1949) (he's not really the killer) and Abbott and Costello Meet Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde (1953). 

His career was given a revival and a renewed sense of seriousness when he was paired with horror producer Val Lewton for a number of films in the mid-late ‘40s, such as the classic The Body Snatcher (1945), Isle of the Dead (1945), and Bedlam (1946). In the ‘50s his horror output quieted a little, but he still remained active. He co-starred in the Robert Louis Stevenson based historical horror film The Strange Door (1951), in the gothic horror movie The Black Castle (1952), and in the silly Voodoo Island (1957). He also starred in the excellent Robert Day serial killer film The Haunted Strangler (1958) and in Day’s Corridor’s of Blood (1958) alongside Christopher Lee. He returned to Frankenstein one final time with Frankenstein: 1970 (1958), where he starred as the tortured, deformed Baron Victor von Frankenstein. 

Despite chronic back pain that he suffered through most of his adult life, he didn’t slow down in the ‘60s and made a series of beloved horror films, though some of his final roles were altered to allow him to act from a wheelchair. He worked with director Roger Corman on horror-comedies The Raven (1963) with costars Vincent Price and Peter Lorre, The Terror (1963), and The Comedy of Terrors (1963) again with Price and Lorre. He worked with Italian horror maestro Mario Bava on Bava’s acclaimed anthology film Black Sabbath (1963), the silly sci-fi horror romp Die, Monster, Die! (1965), starred in Michael Reeves’ (Witchfinder General) The Sorcerers, and had a bit part in the campy beach party horror comedy The Ghost in the Invisible Bikini (1966). He also gave his voice to Rankin and Bass’s Mad Monster Party? (1967), where he played the mad scientist Baron Boris von Frankenstein, and narrated the beloved How the Grinch Stole Christmas! (1966), forever associating himself with Christmas, as well as Halloween. 

In 1968 he appeared in three films, Fear Chamber, House of Evil, and Curse of the Crimson Altar. Where Fear Chamber and House of Evil are his first two Mexican horror films with schlock director Jack Hill, Tigon outing Curse of the Crimson Altar is Karloff’s final successful horror film. He costarred with Christopher Lee, Barbara Steele, and Michael Gough in a tale of satanic panic and black magic at an old English country estate. He concluded his career with a few more entertaining Mexican Jack Hill duds, Island of the Snake People and Alien Terror, both of which were finished and released posthumously. His final serious drama was Peter Bogdanovich’s Target (1968), where he played an aged horror film star who is forced to confront a murderous sniper.

Karloff was not limited to horror or to film. He appeared in a number of television shows and films throughout the ‘50s, such as The Veil, Suspicion, Lux Video Theatre, Colonel March of Scotland Yard (which he starred in), Climax!, The Elgin Hour, The Best of Broadway (for Arsenic and Old Lace), Suspense, Lights Out, and many more. In the ‘60s he slowed down a little, but still appeared in the like of The Red Skelton Hour, The Girl from U.N.C.L.E., The Wild Wild West, and Thriller. He was also active in the theater and on Broadway, where he essentially played himself in Arsenic and Old Lace. Though he was not cast in the film version, he reprised his role for The Best of Broadway and in a made-for-TV version of the play in 1962. He was active in radio throughout his life and also did a number of audio recordings, including some Shakespeare and the narration for Prokofiev’s Peter and the Wolf. 

Fortunately most of his work is available on DVD in various editions and box sets, though there is no definitive place to start. You can visit the official Boris Karloff site, which I believe is maintained by his daughter Sara, who frequently gives interviews and travels to conventions on his behalf. One final thing to say about Karloff is that he has been remembered by many as an incredibly kind man, polite and caring, someone who donated often to children’s charities and even dressed up as Santa Claus throughout the ‘40s to visit children in a Baltimore hospital on Christmas and give out toys, in addition to the several spoken word albums of children’s stories he recorded throughout his life. He also worked hard on the behalf of other performers and was one of the founding (and most outspoken) members of the Screen Actors Guild. He died in February of 1969 from emphysema and pneumonia, but he has not been forgotten over the last 40+ years. His iconic roles in Frankenstein, The Mummy, and many others have insured that he will always be a major founding influence of American horror. He has received two stars on the Hollywood walk of fame and two memorial stamps from the United States Postal Service. If you want to learn more about this incredible man, there is an authorized biography, Boris Karloff: More Than a Monster, by Stephen Jacobs, which won a Rondo Award last year.

I leave you with a nice interview with Karloff on This is Your Life. 

THE SINFUL NUNS OF ST. VALENTINE

Sergio Grieco, 1974
Starring: Francoise Prevost, Jenny Tamburi, Paolo Malco

The newest release in Kino Lorber and Redemption’s series of cult films on Blu-ray is Sergio Grieco’s Le scomunicate di San Valentino aka The Sinful Nuns of St. Valentine (1974), which they released together with Enzo G. Castellari’s crime/suspense film, The Cold Eyes of Fear. By all rights, with a title referencing sinful nuns, Grieco’s film should be a solid entry in the Italian nunsploitation pantheon — at least that’s what my 16 year old self was expecting when I first sought out a bootleg of the film many years ago — but instead Grieco delivers a middling medieval drama that riffs on Romeo and Juliet and Poe’s The Cask of Amontillado, with just a dash of licentiousness and Inquisition-flavored sadism.

Esteban and Lucita are determined to be together, but Don Alonso, Lucita’s father, is so intent on keeping them apart that he locks her away in the St. Valentine convent. Regardless, they plan to run away and elope, but Esteban is accused of murder and heresy and, badly wounded, must hide out in a secret room in the convent. When Lucita’s amorous roommate is also found dead, Lucita is tortured and forced to confess, then sentenced to be burned alive. Esteban vows to save her, but the depraved abbess gets in his way and a hysterical inquisitor sentences everyone in the convent to death.

Director Sergio Grieco (The Mad Dog Killer, Violence for Kicks, and co-writer of Enzo G. Castellari’s war film Inglorious Bastards) fails to deliver a truly shocking nunsploitation film of the likes of Bruno Mattei or Joe D’Amato, nor does he reach the dizzying heights of nun-themed art house films like Ken Russell’s masterpiece The Devils or Walerian Borowczyk’s Behind Convent Walls. There is nothing particularly wrong with The Sinful Nuns of St. Valentine other than the almost unforgivable sin of tempting us with such a fantastic title and then delivering an Inquisition-period melodrama with very little sex, nudity, sadism, violence, or Satan worship.

The worst that happens here is the enraged Inquisitor orders execution by slow death for all of the convent and seals the nuns up inside. Starvation, dehydration, and insanity set in almost immediately and the nuns engage in lesbianism and some mild attempts at devil worship via a painting on the wall. Instead of following on the coattails of other nunsploitation plots, Grieco attempts to blend various elements from classical literature. Perhaps his film suffers because he takes what is essentially a genre of blasphemous softcore porn and attempts to instill some seriousness and highbrow drama. The silly sets and occasionally painful cinematography from Emore Galeassi don’t do the film any favors either.

Though the acting overall is decent, Paolo Malco (House by the Cemetery) is a boring male lead and Jenny Tamburi (The Psychic) is wasted as the passive Lucita, whose character could get into a lot more trouble than she does here if a little more attention was given to the script. Her stern father, played by Franco Ressel (Seven Deaths in a Cat’s Eye), contributes to the absolutely ridiculous surprise happy ending, where he banishes himself to a monastery for being so wrong about her love for Esteban. Bruna Beani (What the Chambermaid Saw) as Lucita’s would-be lesbian lover and Françoise Prevost (Spirits of the Dead) as the deranged abbess, the only characters who try to make this the true exploitation film it should be, are simply not given enough screen time.

As with most Kino/Redemption Blu-ray releases, The Sinful Nuns Of St. Valentine is mastered in high definition from the original 35mm negative, though Kino does a natural looking restoration without dramatically cleaning or restoring the print. Presented in an AVC encoded 2.36:1 transfer, in a resolution of 1080p, Sinful Nuns of St. Valentine certainly looks better than the previous releases, including the Redemption DVD, but still has a fair amount of age damage. Some grain and scratches are evident and there are a few scenes that look more faded and washed out than others. Over all, the detail is much clearer than the earlier releases and this is a decent Blu-ray print, particularly when you consider that this is a largely ignored Eurocult film.

There is only one LPCM Mono audio track available in Italian with English subtitles. The audio sounds decently balanced, though there is some slight age damage and occasional hissing and cracking is noticeable. The dialogue is clear enough, though chances are most U.S. viewers will be relying on the subtitles. The Italian track is certainly better than the original English dub, which is how I was first introduced to the film, but to be fair, the Italian dialogue is also a dub, as most films from this period were habitually dubbed over in a variety of languages. The decent, if very melodramatic score from Coriolano Gori sounds relatively well-mixed and doesn’t compete with the dialogue.

Though I would love to be able to recommend every nunsploitation film ever made, even I have to admit that The Sinful Nuns of St. Valentine leaves a lot to be desired and is maybe only suitable for genre newbies that are afraid to dive right into the hard stuff. Though there are a few topless scenes, some murders, and a bit of torture on the rack for Lucita, this is one of the most milquetoast entries in the nunsploitation subgenre. What should have been named “The Mostly Chaste Nuns of St. Valentine” is presented on a decent Blu-ray from Kino/Redemption and is definitely an improvement on earlier prints, but due to the disappointing film and lack of special features, this is hardly a must-have in their otherwise excellent output of ‘70s and ‘80s cult cinema.

James Whale (1889 – 1957)

Today director James Whale is mostly remembered for his horror output for Universal, classic films such as Frankenstein, Bride of Frankenstein, and The Invisible Man. Though largely forgotten alongside auteurs of the same era, Whale deserves to be remembered for his indelible imprint on early American cinema — his impressive style, use of German expressionism, and incredibly mobile camera work (he is credited as being the first director to use a 360 degree panning shot, for example). Though Whale remains known for his horror films, he also directed across a wide range of genres in the ‘30s: war films, melodramas, comedies, and musicals, many of which are sadly neglected. He also left a mark as being one of the first openly gay men in Hollywood. 

As a young man Whale studied art until he was enlisted in the British Army during WWI, where he became an officer. He was captured by the Germans and spent two years as a prisoner of war. It was here, during the camp productions, that he discovered his love of theater, which continued after the war when he began a career as a set designer, actor, and director. His first big success was the war-themed play Journey’s End in 1928, which starred then unknown Laurence Olivier and later Colin Clive, who would go on to become one of Whale’s regular actors. Whale directed several very successful adaptations of Journeys End, first in England and later on Broadway. It effectively caught the attention of Hollywood, where he was to live for the remainder of his life.

His first film was actually an adaptation of Journey’s End (1930). At the time Hollywood sought new directors with extensive theatrical experience, due to the transition from silent cinema to sound productions. Whale was also given some dialogue scenes to direct in Howard Hughes’ war epic, Hell’s Angels (1930), before moving on to the war-time drama about a London prostitute, Waterloo Bridge (1931) with Mae Clarke and an early role for Bette Davis. Its star, the under appreciated Clarke, would go on to work with Whale again in his career-making next film, Frankenstein (1931). 

Frankenstein united Whale with Colin Clive and gave the then unknown character actor Boris Karloff a huge break. The film’s success allowed Whale a significant amount of creative freedom at Universal, and though he did not consider himself a horror director, it was difficult for him to get away from the genre. His next film, a drama again featuring Mae Clarke, The Impatient Maiden (1932), was a critical and commercial disappointment and he returned to horror with The Old Dark House (1932). This is essentially a remake or a revitalization of the “old dark house” subgenre brought to film by one of Whale’s biggest influences, German expressionist director Paul Leni and his silent film The Cat and the Canary (1927). Though The Old Dark House came much later than the “old dark house” forerunners of the ‘20s, it is remembered as a classic of the genre. It also features Karloff in a supporting role and stars Charles Laughton. Whale would soon work with his wife, Elsa Lanchester and make her into one of the world’s biggest horror icons.  

Whale’s suspense film the Kiss Before the Mirror (1933) was well-received critically, but failed to make an impression at the box office and he again returned to horror. The Invisible Man (1933), a special effects heavy sci-fi horror film, was another of Universal’s major horror hits and starred one of the most popular actors of the time, Claude Rains. As with Frankenstein, it spawned a whole series of sequels. He directed two more non-horror films before returning to Universal’s horror pantheon: By Candlelight (1933), a failed comedy, and One More River (1934), a romantic drama that reunited Whale with Colin Clive. 

His next film, The Bride of Frankenstein (1935), is arguably his masterpiece. Much of Frankenstein’s cast and crew reunited for this film, which Whale was initially not slated to direct, but he signed on after Carl Laemmle, Jr. agreed to give him creative freedom. In many ways, Bride of Frankenstein is the culmination of Whale’s themes and is the perfect blend of horror and black humor, German expressionism, and a style that enitrely Whale’s own. Bride was his final horror film and one of his last successful productions. 

He followed it up with the comic murder mystery Remember Last Night? (1935), in lieu of directing another horror sequel, Dracula’s Daughter. Whale convinced Carl Laemmle, Jr. to buy the rights to the novel, The Hangover Murders, though the title and part of the script had to be changed due to the strict production code. The night after a wild party, a very hung over group of friends tries desperately to remember what happened when one of them turns up dead. Though murder mystery fans will find the film a lot of fun — it’s similar to The Thin Man series — it received mixed critical reception and did not do well in the box office.

Fortunately for Whale, his next film, Show Boat (1936), was a major success and remains the finest adaptation of the musical of the same name. His next major project, The Road Back (1937), was a sequel to All Quiet on the Western Front (1930), but was essentially ruined by the Nazi government’s vehement protests. Though they initially resisted, Universal ultimately made numerous cuts and changes, effectively ruining Whale’s war epic, which was also not shown or outright banned in many countries. (Remember the time when lots of countries sucked up to the Nazis? The U.S. government was one of them.) This was Whale’s last major production. 

In the late ‘30s he churned out half a dozen films, but not many of these were successful.  Two exceptions are the historical comedy The Great Garrick (1937), about a pompous actor, and The Man in the Iron Mask (1939), a stylish adaptation of Dumas’ novel that coincidentally featured the first screen performance of British horror actor Peter Cushing. Whale also directed the forgotten adventure-drama Sinners in Paradise (1938), the poorly received Wives Under Suspicion (1938), actually a remake of his own Kiss Before the Mirror, and the maritime romance Port of Seven Seas (1938) with cinematography from the great Karl Freund (cinematographer on Dracula and director of The Mummy). Whale only made two films in the early ‘40s, the jungle adventure film Green Hell (1940), which was his last for Universal and features a young Vincent Price in a side role, and They Dare Not Love (1941), a WWII-era war romance with another small part for Peter Cushing. They Dare Not Love was Whale’s final feature film, though he occasionally picked up work throughout the next decade, including a short film and an instructional video for the army. 

Though largely forgotten for all but his horror films, Whale deserves to be remembered for his impressive style and talent. His use of German expressionist light and shadow helped popularize this kind of stark visuals in early American cinema and brought about the noir genre. His use of suspense, horror, and black comedy was a likely influence on the later films of Alfred Hitchcock, whose work exhibits a similarly bleak sense of humor. 

Regardless of genre, Whale’s work repeatedly exhibits a sense of dark humor and subversive, often campy theatricality. Though modern critics have tried to imprint a gay reading on many of his films (particularly Frankenstein and Bride of Frankenstein), it cannot be denied that many of his main characters are loners and outsiders. Subverting normative morality and heterosexual couplings was a regular feature of his films, and these are apparent even though happy endings were often imposed on him by Hollywood. 

It is not easy to say why Whale’s career failed in the late ‘30s and early ‘40s, though there were likely a lot of contributing factors. After the fall of the Laemmle family and their ejection from Universal, Whale’s creative license as a director was severely limited. The rise of the Production Code also clashed with a lot of his sexual and moral themes, as well as his use of satire and black humor, resulting in films that were cut or outright changed by the studio. Though he had lived as an openly homosexual man since the ‘20s, it is believed that this hurt his career in later years. Whale was one of the first openly gay directors in Hollywood and nearly half his life with parter David Lewis. After he retired from Hollywood, Whale continued to take odd directing jobs in both film and theater, though he spent most of his time traveling and painting, going so far as to build a home studio for himself. Some of his paintings are currently on display in his hometown in England in the Dudley Museum and Art Gallery. 

After suffering a number of debilitating strokes, Whale committed suicide in 1957 by drowning himself in his home swimming pool. For years, the death was ruled accidental, until his partner David Lewis revealed the suicide note only months before his own death in the late ‘80s. If you want to learn more about Whale, check out James Curtis’ impressively researched and extensive biography, James Whale: A New World of Gods and Monsters (1998), currently best book about this wonderful director and enigmatic man. I would also recommend this somewhat academic article on Senses of Cinema that examines whether or not Whale was an auteur and what effect his sexuality may have had on his work. Watch some of his films on MUBI and I also recommend the fictional biography Gods and Monsters, starring Ian McKellen as Whale in the later years of his life. 

I AM DIVINE

Jeffrey Schwarz, 2013

Starring: Divine, John Waters, Ricki Lake, Mink Stole, Tab Hunter, Holly Woodlawn, Michael Musto, Bruce Vilanch

“I give blowjobs to serial killers!”

Since I first learned about Kickstarter, I was hopeful that some interesting projects would come out of it, but skeptical that it was mostly a way for hacks (or people who already had access to funding) to kick off self-indulgent music/art/film projects that no one actually needs. When Amanda Palmer managed to collect over $1 million to fund her newest album, it pretty much confirmed my worst fears and I swore I would never donate to any Kickstarter project (plus I’m a broke writer in debt from grad school). And then I saw the open campaign for a new documentary (now finished) about performer and all around icon Divine and, before I knew it, I donated. And then I waited anxiously for the film to be finished and for a screening to come around. 

When the Maryland Film Festival, located in my home-away-from-home, Baltimore, announced a screening, I was ecstatic. I was also afraid that my expectations were too high, but I’m happy to say that I Am Divine: The True Story of the Most Beautiful Woman in the World, by documentary director Jeffrey Schwarz (Wrangler: Anatomy of an Icon), delivered on all fronts. 

But first, some words about the movie from one of my idols and one of Divine's closest friends, John Waters:

"Divine was my close friend and fearless muse. Who else could convincingly turn from teenage delinquent to mugger, prostitute, unwed mother, child abuser, fashion model, nightclub entertainer, murderess, and jailbird? All in the same movie? That’s why I am giving my full blessing to a new documentary feature film, I AM DIVINE, to be directed by award-winning filmmaker Jeffrey Schwarz."

Full of photos, home movies, film clips (some of them very rare), TV clips, live performances, and a buttload of interviews, I Am Divine tells the story of one of my first idols, actor, drag performer, icon, singer, and so much more, Harris Glenn Milstead, better known as Divine. Schwarz gleaned Divine’s story from some of his closest friends, co-performers, supporters, and family members. There are lengthy interviews with one of Divine’s oldest friends, director John Waters, who helped birthed the Divine entity and gave the Most Beautiful Woman in the World her glorious, unforgettable name. Also interviewed are Ricki Lake, Mink Stole, Tab Hunter, Holly Woodlawn, Michael Musto, Bruce Vilanch, and a number of other actors and performers who worked alongside Divine. The documentary is also bolstered by interviews with Divine’s first girlfriend, Diana Evans, as well as long-estranged mother Frances Milstead. The film reveals that there was a happy ending: after shunning Divine because of his lifestyle, homosexuality, and out of control film, the family made up before Divine’s death and Schwarz was able to interview Milstead months before she passed away. 

The documentary begins with Divine’s early life in Baltimore in the ‘50s as a viciously bullied young school boy and continues through his teenage years playing dress up in his mother’s clothes and later in public, where he donned some convincing Elizabeth Taylor garb. The film covers his early relationship with John Waters and their first films together: Eat Your Makeup (1967), where he appeared as Jackie Kennedy during the Kennedy assassination only five years after the president’s fatal shooting, Mondo Trasho (1969), and the shocking but wonderful Multiple Maniacs (1970), where Divine plays a homicidal maniac and is eventually raped by a lobster. 

The filming and reception of Pink Flamingos is covered in depth, where Divine began her first rise to fame and earned the title “the filthiest person alive.” Other Waters’ films such as Female Trouble, Polyester, Hairspray, and more are also explored. Divine’s western-spoof, Lust in the Dust (1985), where she starred alongside Tab Hunter is also discussed and highlights her intense work ethic, suffering through the heat and high altitudes despite weight and health issues. Aside from Divine’s film career, both life-long fans and newbies will probably learn a lot here. Schwarz covers Divine’s theatrical career in New York and San Francisco, when she appeared in plays like Women Behind Bars and The Neon Woman, performed with drag group The Cockettes, and had many nights partying at Studio 54. Divine’s relationship with her manager Bernard Jay is explored, and her stint as a European singing sensation and disco diva, including the strenuous touring schedule and number of records and singles. 

The film also covers more serious topics like Divine’s drive to be taken seriously as an actor outside of John Waters’ films and outside of a drag persona. Fame, overspending, overeating, addiction, and health issues are all addressed, culminating in Divine’s early death of an enlarged heart in 1988, the day before she was supposed to begin filming a new role on Married With Children, one that would likely make her fame and reputation a household name. 

Part of what’s so wonderful about this film (and Divine herself/himself) is that now is the perfect time for audiences — and younger LGBT people in particular — to see someone so amazing and so utterly themselves, coming out to the world. Part of my problem with the “It Gets Better” campaign is that it seems to have an inherent message of assimilation. Yes, it’s OK to be gay/transgendered, but you should look and act as mainstream as possible until you are an adult. As Divine would say, “fuck you very much.” At its heart, this film is a story about a person who dared to be themselves — the most extreme and outrageous version of themselves possible — regardless of the cost and rose to fame and lived an incredibly rich life. 

Not only does the film come highly, highly recommended, but the Maryland Film Festival screening was everything I hoped for and more. Much to my surprise, during the Q&A session after the film, I learned that I was sitting two rows behind John Waters, Mink Stole, and others from Dreamland Productions. Though it has not yet been released on DVD, that will hopefully happen later this year. To learn about about the film and upcoming screenings, visit the Facebook page, which is full of great links, and check out the I Am Divine Foundation. From the site: “I Am Divine Foundation was created in Divine’s name to raise awareness and bring hope to those being bullied today. Divine was deeply affected by bullying. John Waters recalls Divine being frequently bullied by students and faculty during his school years.”

"And you're the most beautiful woman in the world! Nothing can change that!"

BRIDE OF FRANKENSTEIN

James Whale, 1935

Starring: Boris Karloff, Elsa Lanchester, Colin Clive, Ernest Thesiger, Valerie Hobson

"To a new world of gods and monsters!"

There are very few sequels that equal, let alone surpass their precursors, particularly among horror films, but Bride of Frankenstein has certainly earned that distinction. Dream-like and surreal, with elements of satire and black comedy, Bride of Frankenstein is a difficult film to truly get a grasp on, despite its relatively basic plot. During an introductory scene, the poets Percy Shelley and Lord Byron congratulate Shelley’s wife Mary on her story Frankenstein and she explains that the story is not yet finished. Picking up with the fiery finale of Frankenstein at the mill, where the Monster and Henry Frankenstein have allegedly died, it's revealed that Henry has been rescued and has narrowly avoided death. He's being nursed back to health by his fiancee Elizabeth and renounces his experiments. The Monster escapes and flees into the wilderness, only to be captured and imprisoned by terrified townsfolk.  

Dr. Septimus Pretorius unexpectedly arrives at Henry’s door just after Elizabeth has had a hysterical premonition of her husband's death. Pretorius convinces the bedridden Henry to follow him to his laboratory to see his own experiments in creating life — a series of bizarre homunculi. He suggests that he and Henry work together to create a perfect companion for the Monster. Though Henry is repulsed by Pretorius’s experiments in magic and alchemy, he agrees. 

The Monster, meanwhile, has freed himself and finds his way, lonely, hungry, and injured, into to the home of a blind hermit. Instead of recoiling with fear, the hermit is grateful to have a friend and welcomes the Monster into his home and manages to teach him a few words. Unfortunately their domestic bliss is cut short by two hunters who recognize the Monster and set fire to the hermit’s cabin. The dejected Monster finds his way into a crypt where Pretorius has recently acquired some human parts and is dining on top of a casket. Pretorious tells the Monster that they are going to make him a friend. When Henry reconsiders this idea, the Monster kidnaps Elizabeth to ensure that Henry delivers on his end of the bargain. However, he doesn’t account for the bride’s acceptance of him when she wakes...

Much of the cast and crew of Frankenstein returned, including director James Whale, who was only lured back by Universal when they promised him full creative control. Karloff managed to outshine his performance in Frankenstein, using the limited dialogue he is given to his full advantage. What could easily have been a silly, farcical performance is full of pain and pathos. Where Karloff received the credit “....?” in Frankenstein, here he has rapidly moved to top billing. Colin Clive also returned as Henry Frankenstein. Though he shines in a handful of scenes, he is more subdued here than in Frankenstein, due in part to the encroaching effects of alcoholism and the handicap of a broken leg that forced him to remain seated for many scenes. Dwight Frye (Frankenstein’s assistant, Fritz) returns as a new character, Karl the insane grave robber, and even Marilyn Harris, the little girl accidentally drowned by the Monster, returns in a bit part. The adorable, blonde Mae Clarke, who played Frankenstein’s fiancee in the first film, was replaced by the younger, brunette Valerie Hobson. Hobson actually improves the role, making Elizabeth more passionate and likable, if somewhat hysterical. 

The two new characters, Dr. Pretorious and Minnie, represent the best and worst of Bride of Frankenstein. Minnie (Una O’Connor) is horrendously annoying and zaps the life out of nearly every scene she appears in. Whale intended her to be the plucky comic relief, at which she utterly fails with her shrill screaming and vapid dialogue.

Pretorious (Ernest Thesiger) nearly steals the film from Karloff and certainly leaves Clive in the dust. Thesiger is disturbing, funny, campy, charismatic, and a fitting foil for Dr. Frankenstein, who appears to be going on the straight and narrow in the beginning of the film, but is easily tempted away from his waiting bride to more perverse experiments in the creation of life. Pretorious heightens the elements of black comedy and the hint of a menacing, sexual ambiguity. The latter has encouraged modern critics to posit a gay reading on the film, combined with the knowledge of director Whale’s homosexuality. Whether there is something in this or not, Pretorious, the serpentine alchemist, certainly subverts heterosexual norms and contemporary morality. 

The titular “bride” could possible refer to Frankenstein’s bride-to-be, Elizabeth, but clearly indicates the Monster’s bride, played by Elsa Lanchester, who has a dual role as Mary Shelley. Though there have been some complaints that Lanchester barely appears in the film, her few moments are iconic and thoroughly gripping. The scene where Pretorious and Frankenstein give her life, while the Monster anxiously watches on, as well as her subsequent horrified rejection of the Monster, are more powerful than nearly anything else in this film or its predecessor.

Penned by Dracula scribe John Balderston and screenwriter William Hurlbut (yes, that is really his name), Bride of Frankenstein is based on a side plot in Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein where the lonely, desperate Monster demands that Dr. Frankenstein make him a mate. As with the original film and the novel, there are some similarities, but also many differences. If you combine the two films, I have to somewhat guiltily admit that they're better than Shelley’s verbose novel that nearly drowns in its many philosophical quandaries. Make-up artist Jack Pierce returned to create the Bride’s incredibly iconic look, allegedly based on sculptures of the Egyptian Queen Nefertiti. Special effects artist Kenneth Strickfaden also returned from the first film to recreate some of his incredible electrical effects, building new structures, such as the “Nebularium” to aid in the Bride’s creation. 

Bride of Frankenstein is certainly a more subversive, surreal, and fairy tale-like film than Frankenstein, with Whale free to explore a number of boundary-pushing themes. Though John Mescall’s lovely cinematography is still influenced by German expressionism, it stands more firmly on its own creative legs than that of Frankenstein and Charles Hall’s sets are somehow bigger and better than in the first film. There is a lot of hidden (and some more obvious) Christian crucifixion imagery. While the Monster and his Bride are both obviously raised from the dead, there are numerous scenes of important meals — the Monster and the hermit sharing bread and wine, the Monster intruding on Pretorious’s meal where the table is a coffin — and the Monster is tied up in a crucifixion-like pose. 

To a certain extent Whale seems to be mocking these rituals and the satirical tone is extended to an examination of the heterosexual family unit, which he subverts with the presence of Pretorius, as well as the Monster and the Bride’s doomed meeting, and the fact that Henry and Elizabeth, the characters that are supposed to be the most important, are the least interesting. (You can learn more about Whale’s homosexuality in the wonderful biographical film Gods and Monsters, released in 1998, starring Ian McKellen as Whale.)

As with Frankenstein, Bride was financially successful and achieved a decent amount of critical acclaim. It comes with the highest recommendation. Be forewarned that anyone who has seen the tremendous Young Frankenstein a few dozen times is going to be predisposed to laugh at certain scenes (such as the Monster dining with the hermit and most of Minnie’s scenes), but if you can take the film seriously you will certainly be rewarded and haunted by Whale’s masterpiece. I’m reviewing Frankenstein: The Legacy Collection DVD set, which includes Bride of Frankenstein and David J. Skal’s informative documentary about the making of the film, She’s Alive! Bride of Frankenstein is also available in the new Universal Classic Monsters: The Essential Collection Blu-ray set and on an older, stand alone, but inferior DVD.