“The Lodger” (1944) is reckoned by many to be the best Jack the Ripper movie ever made, and with good reason. Expertly cast, and beautifully directed by John Brahm, this 20th Century Fox production drips with atmosphere, menace and a wow of a sexual subtext which somehow managed to escape the censor’s eye.
As I’ve said before in previous postings, I’ve always enjoyed Fox’s evocations of fog-drenched Victorian England, and “The Lodger” is no exception.
The film is based on a very successful novel by Marie Belloc Lowndes. In England, Alfred Hitchcock directed a silent version in 1927 with stage star Ivor Novello. It was the film that started Hitchcock on his road to critical and commercial success. Novello remade it in 1932 as a sound version, and Fox re-made it yet again in 1952 as “The Man in the Attic” with Jack Palance in the title role.
As good as the Hitchcock version is, however, it’s the 1944 version that continues to resonate with viewers.
The scene is London in 1888, and the city is paralyzed by the Jack the Ripper murders. The victims are all actresses or have ties to the theater. (Actresses make a handy substitute for prostitutes, the real victims of the Ripper, and a profession that would not have made it past the censors).
One night a mysterious stranger, Mr. Slade (the brilliant Laird Cregar) comes to a house seeking lodging. The house is owned by the Bontons, a kindly older couple (Cedric Hardwicke and Sara Allgood) who agree to rent him an upstairs bedroom. He tells them he is a doctor, and also requests to use the attic as a place for experiments. He tells them he works odd hours, and will use the back staircase as he will be coming going at all hours of the night.
Soft spoken and gentle, Mr. Slade seems an ideal tenant, save for a few peccadilloes, such as turning to the walls paintings of old time actresses. He doesn’t think much of actresses which could be a problem since the Bontons’ niece Kitty (Merle Oberon) is a celebrated musical comedy star and is living with them.
And in the film’s most disturbing scene, Slade shows Mrs. Bonton a picture of his brother, who he obviously harbors disturbing feelings for. This scene is beautifully played by Cregar, and while it might have gotten past the censors, I’m sure 1944 audiences knew that Slade’s feeling toward his sibling were more than normal brotherly love. An actress caused his brother’s ruin, which explains Slade’s deep loathing of the acting profession.
But is Slade the Ripper? He does come and go at all hours of the night, and is seen with a mysterious black bag, and comes home one night with a blood-stained coat. A Scotland Yard Inspector (George Sanders) harbors suspicions about Slade, but isn’t sure. Certainly a fingerprint clue seems to rule Slade out.
The climax is very exciting, and one of the most memorable of 1940s horror cinema. More I will not say.
This is one beautiful looking film. Anyone that thinks black and white is boring should look at five minutes of “The Lodger.” Atmosphere drips from every scene, with each shadow and alleyway a potential Ripper murder scene. One scene of the Ripper approaching a cowering victim has the camera take the point of view of the Ripper, the camera shifting from side to side as he gets closer to her, the victim quaking with fear. Similar scenes were found throughout countless 1980s slasher movies, but “The Lodger” was first (albeit, less graphically).
“The Lodger” was a smash hit with 1944 audiences, not least for the cast, strong script and atmosphere. So successful was it that Fox ordered a follow up film the following year with another Victorian horror melodrama, the superb “Hangover Square”, re-uniting Cregar, Sanders, director Brahm and screenwriter Barre Lyndon. It was another big hit but there were to be no more reunions.
Cregar was one of the most striking actors of the 1940s and would have gone on to bigger and better things, but he had a tortured private life. Standing over six foot three and weighing more than 300 pounds, he went on a crash diet to lose over 100 pounds in hopes of becoming a leading man. He was also homosexual, and thought if he could be made attractive to women he would be cured of his gayness. The crash diet proved too much for his system, and he died of a heart attack at the age of 28 following shooting of “Hangover Square.”
What a career he could have had. As it is, in his short, brilliant career, Laird Cregar still stands as one of the great actors of the 1940s. Unfortunately, he probably understood his characters all too well.
Rating for “The Lodger”: Three and a half stars.
Showing posts with label John Brahm. Show all posts
Showing posts with label John Brahm. Show all posts
The Undying Monster
Tuesday, January 15, 2008
In 1941, Universal Pictures had such a big hit with “The Wolf Man” that other studios jumped on the werewolf bandwagon. Columbia Pictures had a talking werewolf appear alongside Bela Lugosi in “The Return of the Vampire” (1943), and a woman turns into a wolf (talk about saving on your special effects budget) in “Cry of the Werewolf” (1944). Poverty Row studio PRC’s entry was “The Mad Monster” (1942) which saw mad scientist George Zucco turn handyman Glenn Strange into an overalls-wearing werewolf, as part of his plan to turn American soldiers into werewolves and fight against the Nazis. (Logic was never a strong suit in Poverty Row horror flicks).
Of course, Universal continued their series of Wolf Man pictures with “Frankenstein Meets the Wolf Man” (1943), “House of Frankenstein” (1944) and “House of Dracula” (1945), which saw the doomed, tragic Larry Talbot (Lon Chaney, Jr.) forever in search of a cure for his condition.
In 1942, 20th Century Fox turned out a wonderful little “B” picture called “The Undying Monster” which owes a lot to “The Wolf Man.” It’s not as good as “The Wolf Man” mainly due to the leads, but there’s a lot here to enjoy.
Any mystery/horror film that starts out on an estate on the English moors at the turn of century has already won me over. We hear about a family curse and a monster that is known to terrorize the moors. We then witness a servant girl being chased at night across the fog-drenched landscape, screaming in terror as the camera tracks her across the moors. She is cornered and then attacked via a point of view camera angle where the camera becomes the monster, as she desperately – and unsuccessfully - fights off her attacker. It’s a bravura sequence, way ahead of its time, and beautifully directed by John Brahm.
Brahm was a German émigré director who is best known today for the three films Victorian thrillers he made at 20th Century Fox: “The Undying Monster”, “The Lodger” (1944), arguably the best Jack the Ripper movie ever made; and “Hangover Square” (1945), about a composer who goes psycho when he hears discordant noises. It’s one of the greatest horror pictures of the 1940s.
The family is believed to be cursed and the brother and sister (John Howard and Heather Angel), not believing in monsters, bring in a Scotland Yard inspector (James Ellison) to help get to the bottom of things. The family doctor (Bramwell Fletcher) is also looking for a solution. The servants are a suspicious lot, knowing more than they let on. And what’s with the rattling of chains heard in the family crypt in the basement?
The similarities with “The Wolf Man” are pretty striking, down to the setting and the folk warning that the family intones before they go out on the moor: “When the stars are bright on a frosty night, beware thy bane in the rocky lane.”
That’s OK, but not as good as the similar warning heard in “The Wolf Man: “Even a man who is pure at heart, and says his prayers at night, may be become a wolf, when the wolf bane blooms, and the autumn moon is bright.”
David Raksin’s score was obviously influenced by the classic one composed by Frank Skinner and Hans J. Salter for “The Wolf Man.” This was one of Raksin’s first assignments for Fox as a contract composer, but within two years he would be asserting his independence with his landmark score for “Laura” (1944) and would develop his own voice.
There’s a lot of terrific atmosphere here. 20th Century Fox offered the best black and white photography of the major studios, and this film is a never-ending visual delight. There is one odd sequence, however, where the werewolf is carrying his victim across the moors, and the scene is speeded up, so he walks in a herky jerky fashion. Maybe Brahm thought it would give the scene an air of unreality, but it doesn’t work. Fortunately for the climax, the action occurs without anything being speeded up.
Where “The Undying Monster” falls apart is in the casting of the lead. James Ellison was known for playing Hopalong Cassidy’s sidekick in a series of B westerns at Paramount, and he just doesn’t cut it as a Scotland Yard inspector. He likely found the assignment a nice change of pace, and later starred as Alice Faye’s love interest in “The Gang’s All Here” (1943), but never made it as a leading man and soon went back to the B western arena.
Heather Angel and John Howard are fine in the leads, if a bit bland. Bramwell Fletcher will be immortalized forever for his scene in “The Mummy” (1932) where he goes insane, laughing uncontrollably when he brings the mummy back to life in the opening scenes.
Despite some minor reservations, “The Undying Monster” is one of the better “B” horror pictures of the 1940s and I’m delighted Fox saw fit to release it on DVD in such a splendid transfer.
Rating for “The Undying Monster”: Three stars.
Of course, Universal continued their series of Wolf Man pictures with “Frankenstein Meets the Wolf Man” (1943), “House of Frankenstein” (1944) and “House of Dracula” (1945), which saw the doomed, tragic Larry Talbot (Lon Chaney, Jr.) forever in search of a cure for his condition.
In 1942, 20th Century Fox turned out a wonderful little “B” picture called “The Undying Monster” which owes a lot to “The Wolf Man.” It’s not as good as “The Wolf Man” mainly due to the leads, but there’s a lot here to enjoy.
Any mystery/horror film that starts out on an estate on the English moors at the turn of century has already won me over. We hear about a family curse and a monster that is known to terrorize the moors. We then witness a servant girl being chased at night across the fog-drenched landscape, screaming in terror as the camera tracks her across the moors. She is cornered and then attacked via a point of view camera angle where the camera becomes the monster, as she desperately – and unsuccessfully - fights off her attacker. It’s a bravura sequence, way ahead of its time, and beautifully directed by John Brahm.
Brahm was a German émigré director who is best known today for the three films Victorian thrillers he made at 20th Century Fox: “The Undying Monster”, “The Lodger” (1944), arguably the best Jack the Ripper movie ever made; and “Hangover Square” (1945), about a composer who goes psycho when he hears discordant noises. It’s one of the greatest horror pictures of the 1940s.
The family is believed to be cursed and the brother and sister (John Howard and Heather Angel), not believing in monsters, bring in a Scotland Yard inspector (James Ellison) to help get to the bottom of things. The family doctor (Bramwell Fletcher) is also looking for a solution. The servants are a suspicious lot, knowing more than they let on. And what’s with the rattling of chains heard in the family crypt in the basement?
The similarities with “The Wolf Man” are pretty striking, down to the setting and the folk warning that the family intones before they go out on the moor: “When the stars are bright on a frosty night, beware thy bane in the rocky lane.”
That’s OK, but not as good as the similar warning heard in “The Wolf Man: “Even a man who is pure at heart, and says his prayers at night, may be become a wolf, when the wolf bane blooms, and the autumn moon is bright.”
David Raksin’s score was obviously influenced by the classic one composed by Frank Skinner and Hans J. Salter for “The Wolf Man.” This was one of Raksin’s first assignments for Fox as a contract composer, but within two years he would be asserting his independence with his landmark score for “Laura” (1944) and would develop his own voice.
There’s a lot of terrific atmosphere here. 20th Century Fox offered the best black and white photography of the major studios, and this film is a never-ending visual delight. There is one odd sequence, however, where the werewolf is carrying his victim across the moors, and the scene is speeded up, so he walks in a herky jerky fashion. Maybe Brahm thought it would give the scene an air of unreality, but it doesn’t work. Fortunately for the climax, the action occurs without anything being speeded up.
Where “The Undying Monster” falls apart is in the casting of the lead. James Ellison was known for playing Hopalong Cassidy’s sidekick in a series of B westerns at Paramount, and he just doesn’t cut it as a Scotland Yard inspector. He likely found the assignment a nice change of pace, and later starred as Alice Faye’s love interest in “The Gang’s All Here” (1943), but never made it as a leading man and soon went back to the B western arena.
Heather Angel and John Howard are fine in the leads, if a bit bland. Bramwell Fletcher will be immortalized forever for his scene in “The Mummy” (1932) where he goes insane, laughing uncontrollably when he brings the mummy back to life in the opening scenes.
Despite some minor reservations, “The Undying Monster” is one of the better “B” horror pictures of the 1940s and I’m delighted Fox saw fit to release it on DVD in such a splendid transfer.
Rating for “The Undying Monster”: Three stars.
Hangover Square
Tuesday, October 23, 2007
“Hangover Square” (1945) is a fine, fine film, boasting one of the great film music set pieces of all time. More on that later.
The film is a splendid example of the Studio System at its apex, in this case 20th Century Fox. The film takes place in Victorian England and concerns George Harvey Bone (Laird Cregar) a promising symphonic composer who is working on his piano concerto. When he hears discordant noises or sudden, jarring sounds, he blacks out and goes on a murderous rampage. (Not giving anything away here, as the opening scene shows him killing a pawnbroker. The camera takes the place of Bone as he approaches his screaming, cowering victims, pre-figuring the slasher films of the 1980s).
An essentially decent (though obviously troubled) person, Bone turns himself into the police when he finds a bloody knife and awakens in the neighborhood where the pawnbroker killing took place. But the evidence is not against him, so he is free to go though a police doctor (George Sanders) harbors suspicions against Bone.
Unwinding one night, Bone goes to a music hall one night and becomes smitten with one of the singers there, Netta (Linda Darnell). After successfully writing a song for her, she sees Bone as her ticket to fame and fortune, while being cruelly dismissive of him in public.
Unfortunately for Bone, his condition worsens as the film goes on, leading to a truly memorable climax featuring the premiere of his piano concerto. More than that I will not say, though the film’s final image is indeed a haunting one, one worthy of Poe.
The film’s score, including the concerto, was penned by the great Bernard Herrmann. The last 10 minutes is a performance of the concerto and a marvelous sequence it is, with the camera swinging through the orchestra to and fro and becoming more frenzied as the concerto increases in intensity (as does Bones’ dementia). Director John Brahm pulls out all the stops in filming the sequence, and matched to the brilliance of the music is a sequence I never get tired of watching. Herrmann later dubbed the piece “Concerto Macabre for Piano and Orchestra” and it’s a real showpiece, one that has been recorded several times.
The rest of the score is mainly drawn from themes later played in the concerto, though there’s other first-rate music not included in the concerto (love those screeching piccolos when Bone’s insanity kicks in).
I’ve always marveled at 20th Century Fox’s evocations of Victorian England, and “Hangover Square” is no exception. The square itself is a marvel of production design; it’s a beautifully designed set.
Laird Cregar was one of the great talents in movies, and this was unfortunately his last film. A giant talent, both in size and talent, at one time he weighed more than 300 pounds and was determined to lose weight and become a leading man. He went on a crash diet and lost more than 100 pounds and was going to have surgery to further reduce his stomach when he died after suffering multiple heart attacks. He was 31 years old.
Linda Darnell is a revelation as Netta. Darnell earned her stock in Hollywood playing sweet virginal heroines in films like “The Mark of Zorro (1940) and “Blood and Sand” (1941) and very appealing she was too, but here her Netta is a shrewish, destructive woman who plays up to George but despises him behind his back. It’s a marvelous portrayal.
Cregar, George Sanders and director Brahm had enjoyed a huge success the year before with “The Lodger” considered by many the best of the Jack the Ripper movies. Both movies, along with “The Undying Monster” (1942), a werewolf picture directed by Brahm, were recently released in a new DVD set called Fox Horror Classics. It’s a marvelous set, and I’m looking forward to re-discovering the other two movies.
Rating for “Hangover Square”: Three and a half stars.
The film is a splendid example of the Studio System at its apex, in this case 20th Century Fox. The film takes place in Victorian England and concerns George Harvey Bone (Laird Cregar) a promising symphonic composer who is working on his piano concerto. When he hears discordant noises or sudden, jarring sounds, he blacks out and goes on a murderous rampage. (Not giving anything away here, as the opening scene shows him killing a pawnbroker. The camera takes the place of Bone as he approaches his screaming, cowering victims, pre-figuring the slasher films of the 1980s).
An essentially decent (though obviously troubled) person, Bone turns himself into the police when he finds a bloody knife and awakens in the neighborhood where the pawnbroker killing took place. But the evidence is not against him, so he is free to go though a police doctor (George Sanders) harbors suspicions against Bone.
Unwinding one night, Bone goes to a music hall one night and becomes smitten with one of the singers there, Netta (Linda Darnell). After successfully writing a song for her, she sees Bone as her ticket to fame and fortune, while being cruelly dismissive of him in public.
Unfortunately for Bone, his condition worsens as the film goes on, leading to a truly memorable climax featuring the premiere of his piano concerto. More than that I will not say, though the film’s final image is indeed a haunting one, one worthy of Poe.
The film’s score, including the concerto, was penned by the great Bernard Herrmann. The last 10 minutes is a performance of the concerto and a marvelous sequence it is, with the camera swinging through the orchestra to and fro and becoming more frenzied as the concerto increases in intensity (as does Bones’ dementia). Director John Brahm pulls out all the stops in filming the sequence, and matched to the brilliance of the music is a sequence I never get tired of watching. Herrmann later dubbed the piece “Concerto Macabre for Piano and Orchestra” and it’s a real showpiece, one that has been recorded several times.
The rest of the score is mainly drawn from themes later played in the concerto, though there’s other first-rate music not included in the concerto (love those screeching piccolos when Bone’s insanity kicks in).
I’ve always marveled at 20th Century Fox’s evocations of Victorian England, and “Hangover Square” is no exception. The square itself is a marvel of production design; it’s a beautifully designed set.
Laird Cregar was one of the great talents in movies, and this was unfortunately his last film. A giant talent, both in size and talent, at one time he weighed more than 300 pounds and was determined to lose weight and become a leading man. He went on a crash diet and lost more than 100 pounds and was going to have surgery to further reduce his stomach when he died after suffering multiple heart attacks. He was 31 years old.
Linda Darnell is a revelation as Netta. Darnell earned her stock in Hollywood playing sweet virginal heroines in films like “The Mark of Zorro (1940) and “Blood and Sand” (1941) and very appealing she was too, but here her Netta is a shrewish, destructive woman who plays up to George but despises him behind his back. It’s a marvelous portrayal.
Cregar, George Sanders and director Brahm had enjoyed a huge success the year before with “The Lodger” considered by many the best of the Jack the Ripper movies. Both movies, along with “The Undying Monster” (1942), a werewolf picture directed by Brahm, were recently released in a new DVD set called Fox Horror Classics. It’s a marvelous set, and I’m looking forward to re-discovering the other two movies.
Rating for “Hangover Square”: Three and a half stars.
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