Boris Karloff's monster in James Whale's magnificent horror milestone Frankenstein is one of the most iconic images in cinema. Originally a role set for Bela Lugosi after the huge success of Dracula earlier the same year, the image of the monster, dead-eyed with electrodes protruding from his neck, is once seen and never forgotten. The make-up is now industry standard for any Frankenstein production despite being virtually nothing like the one described in Mary Shelley's novel. But this makes it easy to forget that Frankenstein is also a great piece of cinema - gothic, shocking and genuinely moving.
Lugosi's withdrawal from the picture was a true blessing, as Karloff's stirring physical performance really drives home the film's themes. The monster at first seems to be searching for a father, or someone to guide him, and he reaches up into the light of the sky in wonder. It's only once he is abused by Fritz that he becomes violent, and obviously scared. Colin Clive is also very good, depicting Frankenstein as a man driven mad by desire and knowledge, only to feel genuine remorse and guilt over his actions. The film has been so influential that Whale's take on Frankenstein has almost become canon, with almost every adaptation that followed relatively ignoring Shelley's text completely. A true horror classic.
The brainchild of German genius F.W. Murnau and documentary innovator Robert J. Flaherty (of Nanook of the North (1922) fame), Tabu uses the beautiful, untouched landscape of the South Pacific and employs non-professional natives to tell the beautiful story of love found and lost, and ultimately the death of paradise. Murnau died in an automobile accident shortly before the film's premiere and, thus, was his last gift to the movie-going world. Though it doesn't come close to the iconic expressionist horror of Nosferatu (1922) or the dark, satirical humour of The Last Laugh (1924), Murnau's epitaph is a simple, yet heart-wrenching cinematic poem.
The best spear-fisherman on Bora Bora is a handsome young man billed simply as The Boy (Matahi). His legendary status and unparalleled skill makes him popular amongst the islanders, and soon he has caught the eye of The Girl (Reri - who went on to star on Broadway as Anne Chevalier). They romance each other, but their affair is soon halted by the arrival of emissary The Old Warrior (Hitu), who proclaims Reri as the sacred maiden. She is 'tabu', and cannot be looked upon by any man unless he wishes the punishment of death. The couple brave storm and sea to escape, an arrive in a French-colonised island, where Matahi start work as a pearl diver. But their happiness is fleeting, and Reri is soon haunted by the image of Hitu, terrified she may have angered the gods.
The plot is hardly anything new, but Floyd Crosby's Oscar-winning cinematography makes Tabu more socially aware that the film may have you believe. The subtle yet crucial involvement of the French colonists, finding amusement at Matahi's lack of understanding regarding money and material wealth, is a clear swipe at the creeping of Western civilisation. Bora Bora won't stay pure for much longer. And that adds a gravitas to Matahi and Reri's plight - not only is their romance doomed, but so are their traditions and society. It is one of the last great silent films, a reminder that sound can be an unnecessary distraction, and that picture's can sometimes genuinely speak louder than words.
By 1930, the silent era was coming to a rapid end. All doubters thinking that the 'talkie' craze would not last were having a wake-up call, and silent geniuses such as Buster Keaton, Douglas Fairbanks, and Charlie Chaplin, were potentially seeing their highly successful careers melting away. Chaplin began work on City Lights back in 1928, yet a troubled and stressful shoot caused production to run until 1931, when Hollywood had all but given itself over to the new talkie era. Refusing to let go of his most famous creation, The Tramp, Chaplin endured with his vision and kept City Lights silent, seeing no hope for his beloved character in sound pictures. Chaplin shot sporadically, seemingly around one central, and very simple, idea, and managed to create his greatest work, and undoubtedly one of the greatest films of all time.
After a chance encounter with a poor, blind and humble flower girl (Virginia Cherrill), The Tramp falls in love. Smitten, he sits down by the sea where a drunk and eccentric millionaire (Harry Myers) is trying to commit suicide. The Tramp opens the millionaire's eyes to life's simple wonders, so the millionaire treats him to life's luxuries, getting him extremely drunk in the process. After a memorable night, the millionaire sobers up and throws the Tramp out, where he spies the flower girl being visited by a doctor. Desperate to make money for her, he takes a job a street sweeper and gets involved in a winner-takes-all boxing match. Yet everywhere he goes, the drunk millionaire is there ready to whisk him off on another wild night.
The juxtaposition of the two central stories in City Nights is relatively strange in terms of relevance to the narrative. The film is clearly a romantic one, which makes it peculiar when it repeatedly cuts to the Tramp's escapades with the millionaire. But Chaplin seems to have incorporated this for two reasons, and two aspects that Chaplin is remembered and adored for - comedy and social commentary. This is Chaplin's most laugh-out-loud film, with the standout being the scene in which the Tramp and millionaire, both highly intoxicated, arrive at a formal party. The Tramp walks across the dance floor, slipping in unfamiliar shoes, trying desperately to stay on his feet. It's a five-second gag, but for me it incorporated all of Chaplin's breathtaking physical ability and subtle energy. Every moment seems like an endless maze of possibilities for Chaplin, squeezing instants of virtuoso out of simple things like lighting a cigar or eating spaghetti.
The Great Depression had recently struck the country, and Chaplin uses City Lights as a gloomy insight to the lives of the people hit by poverty. The blind flower girl seems to have nothing, yet is rich in soul and spirit that the Tramp is uncontrollably drawn to. The millionaire is emotionally vacated - miserable, angry and intolerable when sober, yet boisterous and care-free when drunk. By contrasting the poor girl with the empty millionaire in his lonely mansion, Chaplin is championing the human spirit over material wealth, a beautiful sentiment brought to life by some fine scenes of comedy, and a profound statement given the harsh, demoralising times. This no doubt was one of the key factors that led to the film's surprising commercial success, with a hungry and unemployed audience given a sense of hope through Chaplin's magic.
It is the most satisfying cinematic experience I've ever had - frequently hilarious, awe-inspiring and exquisitely moving. Although Chaplin would carry on making movies and make another masterpiece in Modern Times (1936), this is the last great 'true' Chaplin, his farewell to the era that served him so well. The final scene is the work of a true craftsman, a moment of sheer beauty. Without ruining anything for those who haven't seen it, the close-up of the Tramp's face overcome with emotion is one of the finest displays of acting I've ever come across, and it is easy to see why this scene is now so widely celebrated. A simply magical experience.
"Mother of mercy. Is this the end of Rico?" The final words of Rico "Little " Casaer (Edward G. Robinson), a small-time criminal who moves to the city, along with his buddy Joe Massara (Douglas Fairbanks Jr.). There they join Sam Vettori's gang. After Rico guns down the police commissioner during a robbery, his reputation grows, and he rises in the ranks, creating a monstrous ego. But with the rise of power and fortune comes betrayal, deceit, and the inevitable demise.
After the wall street crash of 1929, it was inescapable that the gangster film would become a huge box-office success. After all, these were men that took what they wanted, and lived in luxurious homes, and adorned with expensive jewellery. But with the glamorisation of crime, comes the moral paradox - and even here, in a film almost eighty years old, the message that a representation of good and evil is never that clear, and the concept is filled with grey areas. In the great depression, people instinctively mistrusted authority. After all, they were as corrupt as the gangsters that paid them.
With an electrifying performance by Robinson, he spits the snappy dialogue out as if he "were" the charismatic street criminal. He sneers at the camera, and is utterly magnetic. As Rico's relationship with Joe splinters, - Joe begins a love affair with the delectable Olga Stassoff (Glenda Farrel) - it soon turns nasty. But, soon the reality of the situation catches up to Rico, and, probable to a Hollywood movie, morality becomes its climax. Essential early talkie genre cinema. "Yeah! sho get-it watched. See!"
One of the most iconic and popular characters in film history, Dracula has taken many forms, in many genres, and performed to various quality. Although not the first film to feature the character of Count Dracula (a couple of lost silent films and F.W. Murnau’s unauthorised version Nosferatu (1922) came before), Bela Lugosi’s portrayal of the menacing and seductive Count is commonly seen as the definitive.
The story is known to most – solicitor Renfield (Dwight Frye) arrives at Count Dracula castle at night, despite prior warnings by the nearby locals. He is greeted by Dracula, who, unknown to Renfield, is a vampire. Upon arrival, he pricks his finger, causing it to bleed which visibly excites Dracula until he spies the crucifix hanging around Renfield’s neck. Renfield is drugged by Dracula and the two travel to London the next day by boat. When the ship arrives, only Renfield remains on the boat, now seemingly a lunatic and a slave to the Count. He is hospitalised while Dracula becomes entranced by a woman named Mina (Helen Chandler), who is engaged to John Harker (David Manners). As circumstances grow stranger, Professor Van Helsing (Edward Van Sloan) becomes convinced that the Count is indeed a vampire, and that he must be destroyed.
The film would be the beginning of a long run of successful horror movies made by Universal, which would be hits critically and commercially, and many are nowadays considered classics of the genre. Although falling short of the outright perfection of James Whale’s Frankenstein (also 1931) and its sequel Bride Of Frankenstein (1935), Dracula still proves a great adaptation of Bram Stoker’s novel. Lugosi’s performance is the definitive Dracula, his minimal movements and slow, pronounced dialogue, spoken with his Hungarian accent proves an unnerving Count. I’m not forgetting Max Schrek’s Nosferatu, while amazing for its sheer dedication, it was hardly the Dracula of the book.
Director Tod Browning, who up to the point of making Dracula had made over 50 feature films, controls the film superbly, and opts for slow, menacing darkness rather than loud jump scenes and special effects. It builds up the mood gradually, and with Lugosi’s fantastic central performance, makes for an atmospheric experience. It’s a pity that Browning would almost end his career the next year with the commercially disastrous Freaks (1932), which I consider a true great of the horror genre. It’s just a shame that the film’s final scene is rather soft and anti-climatic, jarring with the brilliance that came before. However, it remains an excellent film overall, and the film that would spawn many memorable films for Universal studios.
Henry Frankenstein (Colin Clive) has locked himself away in his desolate laboratory in order to work on his grand experiment - to reanimate life and playing God in the process. His assistant, the hunchback Fritz (Dwight Frye), steals the a brain of a dead convict for the final piece of Frankenstein's macabre creation. His fiancée Elizabeth (Mae Clarke) is concerned by his lengthy absence and goes to visit her husband-to-be, and witnesses the birth of his monster. Repulsed and ashamed by what he has done, Frankenstein leaves his lab to be married, only for the monster, terrified and confused, to escape and head into town.
