31 Days Of Horror: Day 23: The Unseen #43: Ghost Of Frankenstein

Why’d I Buy It?: Came in the Universal Frankenstein Pack I purchased (AKA, the good thing that came out of Van Helsing)

Why Haven’t I Watched It?: I’ve always thought of Ghost Of Frankenstein as kind of a non entity. As I was loading the disc in the player I tried to think of a single thing I’d heard about it, good or bad, ever, and was buffaloed to realize I really hadn’t heard anything.

When a band of fans as nutty, passionate, and chatty as Universal Monster Fans are mum on a movie you know that’s a bad sign.

How Was It?: Not bad. But not good. Everything about the film from it’s runtime on down belies its lack of ambition.

The Ghost Of Frankenstein opens with a bunch of peasants murming darkly, occasionally raising their voices in a communal shout of anger and fear. As peasants in a Universal Monster Movie are want to do. Currently they’re haranguing the mayor, telling him to destroy the last vestiges of Frankenstein’s Castle thanks to incessant flute music and/or the possibility of curses, presenting their argument with cool logical statements like “IT’S EVIL!!!” and “YGOR DOESN’T DIE THAT EASILY.” After blowing the shit out of Frankenstein’s Castle, they predictably release the monster from his sulfury tomb. Minus his Fur Pimp Coat.



Way To Go Guys.

The rest of the film follows Lugosi as he tracks down the son of Frankenstein to help do… something to the monster, after he is struck by lightning and made more powerful. Which really doesn’t make even the faintest bit of internal logic as Frankenstein got knocked out by lightning in the last film. And… you know what, I just don’t have the heart to pick apart the logical inconsistencies of The Universal Horror universe at the moment. That way lies madness. So please forgive me for abstaining.

“But wait” I hear you say er somehow, wasn’t the son of Frankenstein featured somewhat apathetically in Son Of Frankenstein? Well yes but this is the other son of Frankenstein that Ygor seeks. And he runs a healthcare spa! No word if he is infact a brother from another mother.

Ygor blackmails Frankenstein into curing the monster (OF WHAT???). And things proceed just about how you would expect them to.

I’ve never been a huge Lon Chaney Jr. fan (Outside of The Wolfman natch), and never did he appear as out of his depth as when he was playing Frankenstein's Monster. Reducing it to the stiff armed caricature that so often served as a parody of Karloff’s. And which Karloff himself so studiously avoided. Plus his Monster always looks chubby. There I said it. I don’t know why that bothers me so, but it does. There’s no way around that.

Lugosi is fine, but his Ygor has been toned down both physically and emotionally. Lugosi’s turn; sinister, pitful and truly frightening, made Son Of Frankenstein. It was arguably the best performance of his career, and even arguably the best to appear in the Universal Movies period. And though his performance is entertaining, in Ghost, it’s not that. And he takes a reeeeeeeeeaaaaaallly weird turn around the forty minute mark that the movie never recovers from.

In fact the whole movie kind of takes a dive around that point. Everyone (the monster included) inexplicably turns into kind of a dick. And the viewer’s investment in drops precipitously.

This is not a Universal film of the first Water. But while no one is going to confuse Ghost Of Frankenstein with the true masterpieces of Whale, Browning, and Freund; it’s a tough movie to get mad at. While I won’t be in a hurry to revisit it again. It is a solid slice of B-Movie fun.

And what would an October be without a little Universal Horror?

Dracula's Daughter

Dracula's Daughter is like a Universal film to the tenth degree, emphasizing everything the brand does wrong and right by magnifying it to its full power. It’s gothic horror, its broad comic relief, its sinister only partially subliminated sexuality. Dracula’s Daughter has all that is pleasurable and cringe worthy about this particular subset of genre, and it has it in spades

Dracula’s Daughter is one of the few direct Universal sequels picking up mere seconds after Dracula ends, with Van Helsing arrested for having stabbed a prominent citizen to death. No one will believe that the count and Renfield were Vampires, not even the student Van Helsing brings in to defend him. Luckily for Van Helsing a new Vampiric pair show up in London, and start some Shenanigans. The film carrys over Edward Van Sloan, as Professor Van Helsing. Many criticize Sloan’s performance as Van Helsing as stiff, but I for one am drawn to Sloan’s Teutonic exactitude, over Hopkin’s thick slices of ham and even depending on the day, Cushing’s prim “all in a days work” professionalism.

Tod Browning’s Dracula is a perversely underrated film these days. I personally rank it only behind Whale’s glorious Frankenstein films as the finest of the Universal monster movies. Its stagy (it is after all, adapted from the stage play based on Stroker’s novel rather then the book itself) and is often considered the inferior film when compared to the legendary Mexican version that was made concurrently (and there is, at least in terms of performance some truth to that). But it has this musty old oddness to it, thanks to director Tod Browning that makes it a unique and even hypnotic viewing experience. Its filled with these odd little moments, like when a pack of Armadillos goes scurrying through Dracula’s castle, or a bit where Dracula seduces a pair of socialites by telling them how awesome it would be to be dead. Lugosi’s and Dwight Frye’s freakish performances combine with Browning’s fever dream direction to create something quite unforgettable.

Lambert Hillyer’s (As a side note, having admired the direction on this film I did a cursory search on Hillyer on IMDB and found that he directed 165 films. Not a single one I’ve heard of. Doesn’t that sum up the pleasure and terror of being both a film fan and an artist? I mean shoot even if I did want to explore Hillyer’s career where the hell would I begin? A hundred and sixty five films. Swallowed up, just like that) direction doesn’t isn’t quite as dedicatedly askew as Browning’s. Instead it’s a much more recognizable breed of Bavaesque high Gothic. Indeed the film’s best scene, where the title daughter steals her father’s body and then burns it in a graveyard as part of an archaic ceremony to rid herself of Vampirism feels like a lost scene from Black Sunday. At its best, as it is in this scene, and a vampire attack that is so unabashedly a Sapphic seduction that I’m frankly shocked that it made it past the prudish censors, Dracula's Daughter achieves a sensuous, nightmarish sensibility. At its worse though it keys up the beyond broad comic relief and bland “normal” leads, who are uninteresting even by the low standards of normal people in a Universal flick, to a prominence that is nigh unbearable.

Still there’s certainly more to love then not in this film. Not least of all Gloria Holden’s gripping and sad portrayal as the titular countess and the film’s shadow cloak style. Hambone acting and broad comic relief aside it almost feels more like one of Lewton’s films then the classic universal ones.

A Day At The Movies: The Wolfman, Up In The Air, The Book Of Eli

The original The Wolfman is one of the first films I can remember loving. But I was excited when the remake was announced. I was eager even. Despite the spotty track records these updates have, Bram Stokers Dracula is a film I have issues with, to put it lightly, and Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein is so bad I have literally never been able to watch anything directed by or starring Kenneth Braunaugh without feeling white hot peals of residual hate. Benicio Del Toro is one of my favorite actors, and he heads films all too rarely. I’m a big Andrew Kevin Walker Fan, and was eager to see Mark Romenack pay off on the promising One Hour Photo. Add in Rick Baker and well we’ve got a deal. And then…

Faithful readers know that I’m not one for Hollywood gossip. Leave the backbiting treacle to the Finkes and Hiltons, I’m in it for the movies bub. So perhaps you will give me the benefit of the doubt if I step back for a moment and marvel at the production of The Wolfman. A chain of events so ghastly, that I have a feeling that once a few non disclosure agreements wear off, the best book about Hollywood since The Devil’s Candy, might be in it.

No one seems to quite know how The Wolfman got just so fucked.

It all seemed like such a sure bet while the movie was gearing up for production back in 2006. A script by a keen, though lately unheard from talent who had already proved himself adapt at Gothic Horror with Sleepy Hollow, an ambitious unproven director, a cast to die for, and a special effects wizard coming back to revisit the monster that made him famous and prove that practical effects can stand up with the best CGI.

Then it all suddenly went to shit.

Next thing you know, said young ambitious director is fired replaced by Journeyman Joe Johnston, the script is being rewritten, and Baker’s handcrafted effects are being overhauled with CGI. This all happens two weeks before production is slated to start. You can’t help but wonder just what lead to all of that.

As if that wasn’t enough, the film’s slated release of 2007 gets pushed back. A lot. Remember when the cast was at Comic Con, touting what they thought was a finished movie? From what I’ve heard, the entire film basically ended up getting reshot. Twice.

So finally here comes The Wolfman, three years late, God knows how much over budget. With a Rotten Tomatoes score sagging around 30%. I don’t doubt that I’m not the only one wondering What the fuck happened.

So to say The Wolfman arrives with some baggage is an understatement. That it works at all is a miracle.

I don’t know if I can call The Wolfman a good movie, but it is a spectacularly silly one and at times a ridiculously entertaining movie. By the time the film climaxes with a duel fought in what I can only describe as Werewolf Kung Fu, I was shaking my head in dismay with a big goofy grin on my face.

The film stars Benicio Del Toro as a successful actor who returns to his estranged family after years away in the aftermath of his brother’s death. His father, Anthony Hopkins lives in a dilapidated old mansion where he spends his day carving huge gooey slice of ham so he can wrap it in the scenery to munch on. He’s joined by fellow landscape culinarists Geraldine Chaplin and Hugo Weaving, and they all sit down and have themselves a nice little banquet.

As if to prove that every action has an equal but opposite reaction, Benicio Del Toro and Emily Blunt underplay their roles to a perverse degree. Just as well, had they gone off the reservation too, the film might have turned into a miniature black hole. Unfortunately, their inability to strike sparks really robs the film of whatever chance it had to gain some tragic weight. The main problem with The Wolfman aside from its rampant silliness, is that for all the intestines on display it never gets in your guts. The film is kind of displayed in microcosm by the dreadful asylum scene at its center, chronicling the month of Del Toro’s imprisonment in a wildly flailing mishmash of imagery, and attempted comedy. It throws everything at the wall and nothing sticks. Likewise the film throws subplot after subplot at the viewer hoping to intrigue and never quite catching.

Still, the sequence does climax with the films best sequence in which Del Toro transforms infront of a lecture hall of flabbergasted observers, and then tears them apart. Scenes like this and the wolf’s first attack on a gypsy camp combine a kind of pulp lunacy, with a wicked sense of humor, some well staged monster shots, and gore gags worthy of early Sam Raimi (The Wolfman is a surprisingly gory film on the whole. It more then earns its R).

While I was dismissive to him before, Joe Johnston on the rare occasion where he’s engaged by the material, like say The Rocketeer can bring it he’s obviously a man who loves by pulp storytelling (which makes him in my mind the perfect man for Captain America). And the scenes where he gets to treat Victorian London, with its gargoyles and opera houses like his own personal parkour set, or drape the moors in billowy fog are obviously a delight for him.

Still these scenes are few and far between, and it all devolves into so much Werewolf Kung Fu. The Wolfman could have been a better movie, its practically there beneath the surface. But I don’t know if I would like it half so much if it was. I have the oddest affection for this film. It’s the kind of affection one has for an idiot child true. But love is love.


I finally got to see Up In The Air, after all the hype and subsequent backlash, and I was glad I did.

Reitman gets a lot of doubters, but I find him to be one of the finest filmmakers of his generation. While many are incensed by the comparisons some throw to Wilder, I think they ring true.

Like Wilder, Reitman makes films that are slyly sophisticated and adult. Like Wilder he has an expert eye for dissecting people and their appetites, but enough compassion to keep his films from flying into full blown misanthropy. Like Wilder he brings out the best of his actors coaxing multi faceted performances from people too used to coasting. Like Wilder his style is confident and singular without being off puttingly showy. In short Reitman is a classy filmmaker, who creates mature films about adults. To my mind that makes him a Goddamn endangered species and a director to be protected and treasured.

I don’t have much to say on the film , that hasn’t been already said. Clooney continues to make the best out of his persona. Vera Farmigan exudes a persona of intelligence and sex that made me realize that I had completely underestimated her, and Reitman’s budding ensemble (Jason Bateman, JK Simmons, and most gratifyingly Sam Elliot) all step up to the plate and do excellent work.

It’s a human scale story that shocked me with its literacy and genuinely shook me with some of the turns its story took. It has the courage to leave its protaginist lost, only now he actually knows it. And as the old saying goes, How terrible is wisdom that brings no profit to the wise.



The Book Of Eli ended up surprising the hell out of me. Dumped in January to fair to middling reviews I wasn’t expecting much, but ended up being kind of blown away by it. It just snuck up on me, which doesn’t happen all too often anymore.

Eli is the kind of smart, original genre filmmaking I keep begging to see, and now that an example of it has shown up, I can’t help but wonder why it isn’t a bigger deal. I mean this is a film with Denzel Washington, battling Gary Oldman in the kind of operatic baddie performance he hasn’t given since Hannibal. It’s a fully realized world stylishly directed by the Hughes (filmmakers who’ve been silent for far too long) its got a great design with real life to it, a couple of set pieces that are just killer. And, oh yeah its got fucking Tom Waits in it. Sounds like a slice of fried gold to me. I can’t help but think it’s a bit of a classic, a minor classic to be sure, but this is the kind of film that ends up as a secret handshake between true lovers of the genre.

Now of course there is the Jesus element here that seems to be pissing people off. I have to admit, I don’t get it. I’m a practicing Catholic, and that’s not the first time I’ve mentioned it on this blog. I say that not to try and convince or convert anyone, I’m fairly against proselytizing in any form, but because I always feel its important if one is to be an honest critic to let their biases be known.

My point is only this, why is that people seem to think that Christian themes belong only in horrific amateur productions like Fireproof, or safe Pabulum like The Chronicles Of Narnia. Is it really so inexcusable for a genre movie to deal with Christianity? Much less an R rated genre film? Why? The film handles faith in what I thought was a mature and thoughtful way. It certainly doesn’t shy away from religions dark side or support an unthinking version of faith. We’re talking about one genre film that has the gal to bring up Jesus, amid about a billion secular Terminator Salvations and Transformers 2s, but from the way some of the detractors have been talking you’d think that you could hardly pass a multiplex door without hearing “Onward Christian Soldier” blasting from it. I’m not saying you have to like it, or have to believe in it. I’m just saying it was refreshing to watch a film that didn’t treat me like an idiot for having faith, nor try to exploit me by being sickeningly congraluatory about it like Kirk Cameron and his risible cronies. Instead it’s a film that asked intelligent questions about the nature of faith and the place of the divine in a place seemingly devoid of hope. Is that really something to get pissed aboutl?

Of course none of that would matter if the film itself wasn’t so damn entertaining. Post Apocalyptic films are a favorite genre of mine. They’re also one of the toughest to do right, and one of the easiest to do lazily (And you have to love the shout out the film gave to A Boy And His Dog). Eli takes the time to fully think out its world and its implications. The world its denizens and their way of life have all been fully thought out.

Washington embodies his roll with his trademark mix of effortless resolve, sly humor, and easy authority. He’s matched by Gary Oldman, one of my favorite actors excelling in pleasure of doing what he does best, aka being utterly terrifying without ever once leaving the realm of the possible. Even Mila Kunis does a credible job. Her relationship with Denzel, that of an eager apprentice and dubious mentor rather then romantic coupling creates an oddly credible bond. And not to spoil anything but should their be a Book Of Eli 2 following her kicking ass and spreading order across the ready to reform continent I would be more then down. A lot of credit goes to the script by first time writer, Gary Whitta who never settles for two dimensions even giving such throwaway roles as Ray Stevenson’s lackey and Michael Gambon’s friendly cannibal surprisingly deep.

More then anything Eli plays like a post apocalyptic Samurai film, with Washington making for one hell of a Yojimbo, set in a rich world. It’s a world made up of equal parts George Miller, Japanese Anime, and Harlan Ellison without being beholden to any of them. It is in short a kickass genre movie. And though many of us share different faiths, we all subscribe to the religion of badass cinema. And we can all say Amen to that.

The Unseen #15: Son Of Frankenstein Karloff Blog-o-thon

I'm participating in Frankensteinia's Boris Karloff's Blogothon. I decided to write about Son Of Frankenstein, A film I've wanted to see for awhile. And in the process knock off a film for my "Unseen" column.

For those new to my blog The Unseen is a semi regular feature I do in which I explore films that I own, but have never seen. The number of which is higher then it has any right to be. Sometimes I get pleasantly surprised, sometimes not so much. Sometimes a dog pisses on the ashes of Freddy Krueger and Dokken sings. Either way it’s always interesting trip through the odder corners of my collection.

Why’d I Buy It? Part of The Frankenstein Box set I bought.

Why Haven’t I Watched It?: Its reputation as one of the lesser Universal horror films kept me from it.

How Was It?: I considered for quite awhile which Karloff film to write about. Of the horror stars only Christopher Lee and Vincent Price had such rich careers as a whole, with their different eras all so uniquely rewarding and both rank a distant second to Karloff. Should I write about his collaborations with Val Lewton? Or those with Bava? What about his Corman films and the way his old school Hollywood elegance rubbed up against The Film Brat generation. There is however, no escaping the fact that the Universal Monster Movies, and in particular that large distended brow loom large over Karloff’s career.

Frankenstein's Monster, is the role that seared itself into the collective consciousness of film lovers and philistines alike. Like all true Icons even the poor souls who’ve never seen the film know not only the character but the man behind it. On Halloween I blogged about how Karloff gave me my first memory of the movies period. And in many ways set the template for what I consider to be great cinema even to this day.

So as odd as it might seem for someone so in love with the role, I had no idea that Karloff played the character a third time until fairly recently. Son Of Frankenstein, is the red headed stepchild of the franchise, and isn’t usually referenced as one of The Universal films of the first water. I thought I’d use the opportunity of the blog-o-thon to view a film I’d never seen.

I wish I could tell you that Son Of Frankenstein is a true Universal Classic ripe for rediscovery, but that’s unfortunately not the case. It has much to recommend it, and I certainly think it’s underrated, but its also talky, long (at 99 minutes it contains none of the great storytelling economy that nearly all the other Universal pictures possess) and filled with unsympathetic characters and meandering subplots.

The story tells of Victor Frankenstein’s Son coming back to reclaim his ancestral homestead. He’s be met by suspicious townsfolk and also Bela Lugosi, and a giant monster in the basement. The former has been using the latter as the baddest one monster hit squad in town, as revenge for his little nearly murdered by the townsfolk thing and needs SOF to resurrect the monster from an inconvenient coma, so he can continue his horn fueled murderous rampage.

The main problem with Son Of Frankenstein, is that the Son Of Frankenstein himself is kind of a wash. Rathbone has always been a charismatic actor, and I’ve never seen him give a less sympathetic performance as a preening jackass. He’s a vain, cocky, drip, ignoring the warning of the helpful constable and the problems of the monster (Not to mention way way over the top). He really never seems to consider the moral or existential ramifications of The Monster in the least. How someone this blasé and blithe managed to become a doctor in anything baffles me. He possesses none of the hubris, insanity, and remorse that made Colin Clive such a fascinating watch. He plays around with The Monster the way other middle aged men putter around with model trains, with a vague air of boredom and embarrassed satisfaction. Its really impossible to overstate the douchiness of the character. By the end of the film you're begging for his comeuppance. The fact that it never really comes adds to the frustration.

It helps nothing that Rathbone’s towing along a child for whom the term Moppet is too mild (Seriously Diabetics should consult their physician’s before watching this movie) and the long scenes of science babble in which he is given the unenviable task of trying to give feasible reasons for the existence of The Monster, which involves The Monster being the secret fifth member of The Fantastic Four.

The other problem with Son Of Frankenstein is the lack of The Monster. He doesn’t show up until nearly a third of the way through the film (wearing a fur coat that the can only be referred to as “pimp”), and remains comatose for a long while after that. Its over halfway through the film before he comes out of the coma and starts doing shit.

It all boils down to the script. Everything is played too broad, and while the Universal Horror films always had a touch of the theatrical, between the hammy townspeople and the various winking self references (have a shot for every “It’s alive!!” joke and see how drunk you get), this one seems to be gunning for vaudeville.

It’s on the whole a stupider Frankenstein, the instinctive sympathy of Whale and Shelly have been replaced by paranoia. We get a story of Frankenstein ripping the arm out of a child, and references to him hunting, its like someone based the film’s premise off of someone else’s description of the previous films, rather then the real thing. Only Karloff’s mournful performance retains the original’s nuanced sympathy. He plays the Monster in away that’s almost fragile. It’s more Golem-like then his first two performances, something mournfully human like then actually human. His performance before the mirror and his reaction when he encounters the death of his "friend" are stunning and belong among any counting of Karloff's greatest moments.

Still there are other things to recommend the film, ironically enough most brought by Bela Lugosi, in his wonderfully malevolent performance as Igor. Played with a physicality that wasn’t usually Lugosi’s forte. With a permanently broken neck, cataracted piggy eyes, and a leering filed grin, Lugosi is to put it quite bluntly, some freaky shit. He steals every scene he is in (which is about 2/3rds of the movie) and the image of him leering through a secret passage at Frankenstein’s sleeping child is some genuinely haunting stuff. Yet like all great monster's he's somewhat sympathetic. Much more so then Rathbone, Igor at least takes responsibility for the monster.

Though director Rowland V. Lee isn’t able to capture the pathos of Whale, he is a capable stylist creating both sinister shadow soaked expressionist frames (Frankenstein’s decent into the pit where he’s been holding the monster plays like an outtake from Caligari as does the requisite scene of the villagers mobbing at the castle gates) and capturing the Gleaming Art Deco feel of the Mad Lab’s set. His history in silent films is put to good use.

But in the end all of this stuff is window dressing. Merely a pretext to the distinct pleasure of watching a great actor perform his greatest role. Disappointments and nitpicks aside nothing can take away from that.

The Return Of 31 Days Of Horror: #31 The Bride Of Frankenstein

The Bride Of Frankenstein is the first film that I can remember seeing. True I have a jumbled infants memory of the forest fire from Bambi on the big screen. But that's just a flash. My memory of watching Bride is so much more real and complete. I couldn't have been more then three or four, and for some damn reason I'd gotten a hold of the film from the public library (same one with The Wolfman). I popped it in, and made it all of about two minutes before I literally ran sceaming from the room, ran down the hall to my bedroom and hid under my bed.

It was the hand that did it. For those unfamiliar with the movie, the film opens with the villagers standing around the burnt windmill that serves as the location for the first films climax. There's alot of exposition being thrown around, but it all basically amounts to the monster's dead and they're glad of it. The teeming villagers head back to the burg for a pint, leaving only the grieving father of the girl murderered in the first film behind. He's not happy with the outcome, a burned building isn't enough. Until he sees the fucking things smoldering corpse he won't be happy.

He ends up falling through the wood into the cave below the windmill and as he splashes helplessly in the water, a hand comes out from behind a blind wall. A decayed, stitched up dead thing, dragging behind it Boris Karloff lumbering body and lifeless eyes.

At which point I promptly lost my four year old shit.

It's probably just as well, I most likely wouldn't have known what to make of Bride. By far the most sophisticated of Universal pictures. While the others Universal films work by jumping feet first into the myth pool, Bride is an incredibly knowing film. What my four year old self would make of it's camp, religious satire, and gay subtext I know not. Probably not very much.

But I sure appriciate it now. The Bride Of Frankenstein is simply put one of my favorite films. A grand tragedy with a wicked sense of humor. A film that hurts, Karloff's doomed monster, and his dead unrequetted queen, the fey Dr. Pretorious, James Whale's moody style. So many things to recommend it.

But really what it comes down to the hand. The one that sent me screaming from the room. Seeing it now still makes me shudder in some primal place that I like to pretend I don't have. It made me an instant horror junkie of course, but in alot of ways I learned on that day, not just what I want from Horror movies, but from movies. I got an object lesson that Film is the most visceral of the arts. The ability it has to brand itself the brain with nothing more then a plaster wall and a slightly made up hand. I like cinema that scars.

And while it took ten years and another horror sequel (Evil Dead II) for me to realize that I wanted Film to become my profession and life. I like to think that my fate was set, as surely as Karloff's poor monster's was from the moment I laid my eyes on it.

Thanks for following me through these 31 Days. For those of you who've come to me through one of the horror blogothons I hope you stick around. Even though the site isn't strictly horror only don't worry, it comes up quite alot in the "off season".

THE RETURN OF 31 DAYS OF HORROR: #18 The Wolfman

Duel Reviews: Two Friends Two HUGELY Different opinions. I’m doing this review of Night Of The Creeps with my good friend Robert Leininger. Robbie has the blog A Week Ahead, the compendium of awesomeness that is his Classic Monster Movie’s Blog, and guest stars on the pod cast Celluloidering. We both love horror movies but seldom agree on what makes a good one. So we’ve decided to take each other through a couple of our old favorites. See what makes it out alive.

Robby: For our next duel review, Bryce and I will be reviewing one of my favorite films: "The Wolf Man".

"The Wolf Man" is a "fang"tastic horror film with characters you really care about. Just look at the cast list! Claude Rains, Patrick Knowles, Ralph Bellamy, Warren William, Bela Lugosi, Maria Ouspenskya, Evelyn Ankers, and of course Lon Chaney, Jr. How could you not like these characters? Besides Lon Chaney, Jr.'s role in "Of Mice and Men", this is his finest acting performance. You really sympathize with Chaney as Talbot. The film begins with Chaney as a happy go lucky guy, as he tries to win the love of Evelyn Ankers. After Chaney is bit by the werewolf, he falls into a deep depression. His eyes say it all. By the end of the film, you really feel bad for Chaney. Even though he is a monster, he is also the hero of the film. Lon Chaney's lycanthropy in the film is actually a very realistic and personal parallel to the life of the troubled actor himself. Lon Chaney suffered from alcoholism. When sober, Chaney was the nicest man. When under the influence, Chaney could be a horror to be around.

Bryce: I was actually really looking forward to revisiting this one. From a young age I was a huge horror buff, but I also had fairly protective parents so the ratio of horror movies I was actually able to see rather then fantasize about was quite low. For whatever reason the original Wolf Man was one of the few that was deemed suitable, and so the VHS copy the library had got worn out thanks to my dozens of repeat watches (For some reason the cover of this copy was dominated by a picture of Gene Shallit which was infinitely more terrifying then anything in the movie). Still once I got my own damn Video store account and started to branch out a bit, I stopped revisiting The Wolfman, and it’s probably been over ten years since I’ve seen it. So I was primed.

It’s great revisiting a film you’ve forgotten about (I didn’t even know Lugosi was in this) and The Wolfman didn’t disappoint, a great example of old school craft. Still out of the big three of universal monsters I have to judge this movie the weakest. While George Waggner does a fine job directing the film, he’s just not the borderline insane visionary genius that James Whale and Tod Browning where. Same goes for the leading man, Lon Chaney Jr. does a decent job, but compared to Lugosi and Karloff, he just doesn’t match up. Still when judged on it’s own merits, The Wolf Man’s a great slice of universal horror, who could ask for anything more?


Robby: I disagree with your point that "The Wolf Man" is the weakest out of the big three monsters. True it is no "Frankenstein", but I think it is much better than "Dracula". "Dracula" is great and one of the most important horror films, but it has its problems. The film takes a huge downward spiral after the first 15 minutes. I'll review "Dracula" more another time.

I do agree with you on Lon Chaney, Jr.'s acting. He is great in this role, but he is no Karloff or Lugosi. He can't compete.

Another thing I want to mention about "The Wolf Man" is the great musical score my Hans Salter. It has a very distinctive three note theme that is very memorable. Hans Salter did nearly all the Universal Monster films in the 1940s, but "The Wolf Man" is by far his best.

But what made "The Wolf Man" a success was the incredible make of Jack Pierce. Pierce's first attempt at a werewolf make-up was in "Werewolf of London", which came out six years before "The Wolf Man". Pierce originally had plans to do a make-up much more like the Wolf Man's, but Henry Hull, who played the werewolf, could not stand that much make-up. Fortunately Lon Chaney, Jr. did not mind it. The make-up is one of Pierce's best. Pierce did an even better job with the make-up in the sequel: "Frankenstein Meets The Wolf Man".

Bryce: Pierces’ designs are great. I’ve heard that the film was originally supposed to be more of a Val Lewton like movie, where you never saw knew for sure whether or not Chaney was really changing. Do you know? Salter’s score is also top notch, reminds me of Danny Elfman’s Batman theme in some places (Dun dun dun duuhhhh dun)

I still really like Chaney I just can’t help but imagine his father in the roll. The whole film is really cast perfectly. Claude Rains is great playing every scene with just a hint of an aristocratic sneer. What Chaney lacks in his father’s subtlety and grace he makes up for with his size. Even before he’s cursed he’s a huge beast of a man towing over his father in a way that’s almost comical. He LOOKS like the kind of guy who could club a wolf’s brains in. You bring up an interesting point with his alcholism, he plays the morning after his first transformation, like a man waking up after a black out drunk. Lugosi makes the most of his cameo role as the original Wolfman. He’s only on screen for about a minute, but manages to invest his character with a real sense of tragedy.

Robby: Yes all of the acting is excellent and lets not forget about Maria Ouspenskya as Maleva the old gypsy woman. She was perfect and this became her signature role.

"The Wolf Man" remains a classic of horror and for good reason. Universal will be releasing a remake soon with Benicio Del Toro and Anthony Hopkins. I'm a little suspicious about that one, however...

If you have not seen "The Wolf Man" do yourself a favor and watch it. Watch it at night under the full of the moon. And remember:

Even a man who is pure in heart
And says his prayers by night,
May become a wolf when the wolfbane blooms
And the autumn moon is bright.

Bryce: Yeah I was excited about that one until it became a synonym with disastrous production. Let's face it good Werewolf movies are few and far between, and The Wolf Man deserves its classic status.