Review #1,384: 'The Old Dark House' (1932)

James Whale's The Old Dark House had a somewhat troubled journey from box-office disappointment to modern re-discovery. After the success of Frankenstein in 1931, Universal Studios brought screenwriter Benn W. Levy - who had worked with Whale on Waterloo Bridge - over from Britain to work on adapting J.B. Priestley's novel Benighted. The result was The Old Dark House, a gothic horror with added levels of comedy that opened to positive reviews, although negative word-of-mouth for audiences led to underwhelming box-office takings in the U.S. It fared better in Britain, but the damage was already done, and The Old Dark House was locked away in Universal's vaults for decades. The negatives lay there for so long that it was considered a lost film, until William Castle's 1963 remake reignited interest in the film and Whale's friend Curtis Harrington pestered Universal until the original reel was found. It was in a terrible state of decay, but a restoration was funded and the rest is history.

When The Old Dark House finally saw the light of day again, horror fans rejoiced, although I doubt the film was anything like they had imagined. Running at just over an hour in length and with little to truly raise the goosebumps, Whale's gothic tale of a bunch of stranded travellers is a true oddity indeed. Husband and wife Philip (Raymond Massey) and Margaret Waverton (Gloria Stuart), along with their friend Roger Penderel (Melvyn Douglas), are driving in the Welsh countryside during a dangerously heavy storm. As landslides and a waterlogged road start to make their journey impossible, they stop at the first house they see: the old, dark house of the title. At the door, they are greeted by the building's most terrifying resident, the grunting, hulking servant Morgan (Boris Karloff). Nevertheless, they seek a bed, or even a chair, to rest for the night. They are welcomed by the gaunt and timid Horace Femm (Ernest Thesiger), but are met with steeliness by his sister Rebecca (Eva Moore), who is keen to hound the group with warnings of sin and 'pleasures of the flesh'. The Femms are clearly a strange clan, but they aren't the only Femms in the house, and when Morgan gets his hands on a bottle of booze, the party are in for an interesting night.

What The Old Dark House lacks in genuine frights and thrills is countered by an abundance of thick gothic atmosphere. In fact, the film works much better as an off-kilter comedy than it does as anything resembling what you would normally expect of a 1930's Universal production. Things perk up as the Femm's household is called upon by two more weary travellers, the buoyant businessman Sir William Porterhouse (Charles Laughton in his first Hollywood film) and chorus girl Gladys (a lovely Lilian Bond). Laughton threatens to swallow up any scene he appears in, but his presence adds a layer of amusement as events get even weirder. As Roger and Gladys embark on a somewhat strange love affair (one would assume Gladys and William are an item since they arrived together), the film takes on a romantic angle that feels neither forced nor unnecessary. Whale somehow manages to balance all these elements while maintaining the mystery of the Femm household, teasing the presence of something all the more sinister and dark locked away upstairs. Whale gently lampoons the genre without making a mockery out of it, and The Old Dark House can even be interpreted as one of the very first spoofs. Karloff impresses in a physical role not too different from his Frankenstein's monster, receiving top billing for his efforts. But this is very much an ensemble effort, and the cast gel together to create one of the most original horrors of its day, and a real treat for buffs of the genre.


Directed by: James Whale
Starring: Boris Karloff, Melvyn Douglas, Charles Laughton, Lilian Bond, Ernest Thesiger, Eva Moore, Raymond Massey, Gloria Stuart
Country: USA

Rating: ****

Tom Gillespie

Review #1,270: 'Grand Hotel' (1932)

Back in the early 1930's, the big Hollywood studios were most comfortable allotting just one major star to their productions, or maybe two if the feature was particularly romance-focused. This was still the early days of the 'talkie' era, and directors were too busy exploring new ways to exploit this wonderful new technological advancement to focus their attention on much else. Studios preferred to have a large roster of A-list talent under contract, leading men and women whose name alone on the post could attract a crowd. But one day, MGM producer Irving Thalberg had the bright idea to lump them all together into one massive superstar extravaganza. Adapted by William A. Drake from his own play (which was based on Vicki Baum's novel Menschen im Hotel), Grand Hotel went on to inspire the ensemble movies of Robert Altman and Paul Thomas Anderson, as well as the A-list smorgasbords of Garry Marshall's holiday-themed dreck.

The magnificence of Berlin's Grand Hotel attracts all kinds of people, each with their own story to tell. Baron Felix von Geigern (John Barrymore) has squandered his vast fortune and spends his time trying to recuperate his losses playing card games and stealing jewels. He has his eyes set on a pearl necklace owned by depressed Russian ballerina Grusinskya (Greta Garbo), but he is enough of a decent chap to befriend Otto (Lionel Barrymore), a dying accountant who decides to live life to the fullest before his time runs out. Otto's arrogant boss Preysing (Wallace Beery) is also staying at the hotel, fretting to his new stenographer Flaemmchen (Joan Crawford) over an important business deal that appears to be heading south. While attempting to swipe the valuable necklace, Felix finds himself in love with the sad dancer and unable to go through with the heist. With money to re-pay and a late-night train to catch, will fate and the events at the Grand Hotel allow them to be together?

Winner of Best Picture at the 1932 Academy Awards (despite failing to receive a nomination in any category) and now entered into the U.S. National Film Registry, Grand Hotel's reputation and influence may flatter the actual film somewhat. This is pure Hollywood fluff, laying the foundation for a formula still employed today. Yet Edmund Goulding's film is also witty and well-performed by a cast of recognisable faces, particularly the two Barrymores and Garbo: The latter's immortal line "I want to be alone," became a famous metaphor for the actress's personal life. William H. Daniel's cinematography refuses to remain static like many features of the 30's, using the impressive set to its maximum potential and establishing the luxurious building as a character itself as it influences its inhabitants' lives and decisions. It's no year's best picture, but its fascinating to watch the groundwork being laid for a formula that would go on to inspire as much greatness as it would drudgery.


Directed by: Edmund Goulding
Starring: Greta Garbo, John Barrymore, Joan Crawford, Wallace Beery, Lionel Barrymore
Country: USA

Rating: ****

Tom Gillespie

Review #603: 'I Am a Fugitive from a Chain Gang' (1932)

Based on Robert Elliot Burns' autobiographical novel I Am a Fugitive from a Georgia Chain Gang!, Mervyn LeRoy's powerful drama follows war veteran James Allen (Paul Muni) who starts life as a drifter to pursue his dream of engineering. Out of work and broke, he is tempted into a free burger at a diner by a fellow drifter, only to be caught up in a robbery, to which he is forced into participation. He is arrested, and sentenced to ten years on the Georgia chain gang, where he and his fellow jailbirds are routinely mistreated and occasionally flogged. He manages to escape, and after a short spell as a fugitive, manages to work his way up in an construction firm. Years later, having established himself as a prominent member of society, he is finally tracked down. Unwilling to turn him over state lines, his new city Chicago becomes embroiled in a battle of custody with Georgia, who want to return him to the chain gang for the remainder of his sentence.

Not merely a generic prison movie, I am a Fugitive... finds its power rooted in it's condemnation of the American justice system. It is claimed that Burns' experiences and eventual exposure of the barbaric nature of the chain gang led to its cancellation. These men work bare-backed in the blazing sun, hammering rocks and train lines and whatever else there is to strike, eating gruel unfit for an animal in between. These are hardened criminals (apart from Allen, who is certainly innocent, but whether Burns truly was is another question), so do they deserve a harsh punishment? Of course. Do they deserve to have their human rights taken away from them and to be treated like dogs? Certainly not. But it goes deeper than that, and, anchored by Muni's terrific performance, questions how a person can ever prove themselves fit for society. Allen becomes a pillar of his community, surely an indication of rehabilitation? And is the way to help a person get to this stage to beat them down at every turn, diminishing all sense of hope?

This being pre-Hays Code, LeRoy is allowed to take the movie to places you wouldn't stand a chance of seeing just a few years later. Allen enjoys the comfort of a prostitute, looking up and down her body with an animalistic look in his eyes, adding depth to a complex character, taking his arc from squeaky-clean optimist to flawed, damaged human being. Special mention must go to cinematographer Sol Polito, who captures the sweaty claustrophobia of the chain gang, as well as framing a rather savage flogging scene with Expressionist flair, giant shadows creeping up the walls. I also ask you to try and avoid squirming during the scene in which Allen has his shackles purposefully dented for his escape, the mallet crashing down on his ankle repeatedly. 81 years after its release, Fugitive still packs a considerable punch, highlighting a heavily flawed justice system that hasn't really learned from its mistakes (see the incredible Paradise Lost (1996-2011) documentaries for proof).


Directed by: Mervyn LeRoy
Starring: Paul Muni, Glenda Farrell, Helen Vinson
Country: USA

Rating: ****

Tom Gillespie

Review #473: 'Trouble in Paradise' (1932)

Trouble in Paradise is a film that could not have been produced only four years after its 1932 release. Under the soon-to-be Hays Production Code, this narrative of con-artists flagrantly breaks levels of decency, sexual innuendo and criminality that the code was set up to eradicate. Lily (Miriam Hopkins) and Gaston Monescu (Herbert Marshall) join forces in Venice to become a couple of grifters, they live together in sin and have no scruples when stealing is concerned. They move to Paris where they target the famous perfume manufacturer Madame Mariette Colet (Kay Francis), finding confidence with the heiress, Gaston becomes her secretary, and play the long game in consuming as much of her wealth as possible.

With romantic entanglements becoming increasingly apparent, Colet practically offers Gaston a position as a gigolo. This menage-e-trois - love triangle - complicates the situation, as relationships become heated. It's a masterwork of comedy, with Hopkins being the most delightful and versatile of the cast. Her plucky attitude, and effervescent presence gives the film a fantastic tone - in one scene she sits at the bedside of Colet, and anxiously holds her hands under her legs so as to stop herself from stealing the jewels on the bedside table.

Based on Hungarian playwright Aladar Laszlo's stage work, 'The Honest Finder', this was the first of Ernst Lubitsch's films given the mantle of having "The Lubitsch Touch", this is a perfect example of creative film making. His camera glides through scenes, and from window to window in some scenes (perhaps nothing to a modern audience, but an incredible achievement in 1930's cinematic production). This is possibly the finest film in the pre-code era, and a complete joy in all respects. As it was produced before Will Hays's iron fist came crashing down on Hollywood production, the film doesn't insult its audience with a moral conclusion, as the thieves happily disappear into the sunset, laughing at the "ill-gotten" stash. Beautiful, anti-moralistic comedy at it finest.


Directed by: Ernst Lubitsch
Starring: Miriam Hopkins, Kay Francis, Herbert Marshall, Charles Ruggles
Country: USA

Rating: *****

Marc Ivamy

Review #347: 'Island of Lost Souls' (1932)

After being shipwrecked, ocean traveller Edward Parker (Richard Arlen) is picked up by a drunken captain, whose next stop is a mysterious island owned by Dr. Moreau (Charles Laughton). Parker gets into a fight with the captain after seeing him beat a strange, hair-covered servant. Upon arrival at the island, he unloads his cargo of various animals and fellow passenger Mr. Montgomery (Arthur Hohl), only to throw Parker overboard and abandoning him there. Unable to escape the island, Parker takes up residence with Moreau, only discover that his strange experiments have caused him to be seen as a God-like figure to the increasingly bizarre island natives, including the Panther Woman (Kathleen Burke), and the 'Sayer of the Law' (Bela Lugosi).

Refused a certificate three times between 1933 and 1957, Island of Lost Souls' blasphemous themes and scenes of vivisection caused wide controversy upon its initial release, and even author H.G. Welles voiced his dislike of it. It's not hard to see why, as although the film is extremely tame compared to the movies released these days, it is way ahead of its time in terms of underlying sexual and religious themes. Moreau's dream is to mate one of his creations, the Panther Woman, with Parker, and then he will truly be a creator. Moreau is obsessed to a psychopathic level of becoming God, and treats the island natives with disdain, cracking his whip and making them recite the laws that he has set for them.

When Parker's fiance Ruth (Leila Hyams) arrives at the island in a hope to save him, the focus on the sexual increases. The natives are stirred, as there is only one other woman on the island, the aforementioned Panther Woman, who Moreau keeps locked in his residence. One of the natives tears one of the bars from her window and sneaks in as Ruth lies in bed. The blend of horror and the threat of rape is used to startling effect, and is a bravely mature and controversial theme for a film produced in the 1930's. So, thankfully, the film is now widely available and ripe for a re-discovery, as it is a brilliant piece of B-movie horror. And the ever-great Charles Laughton, is wonderfully creepy in his role, even though he does look like Peter Kay.


Directed by: Erle C. Kenton
Starring: Charles Laughton, Richard Arlen, Leila Hyams, Kathleen Burke, Bela Lugosi
Country: USA

Rating: *****

Tom Gillespie

Review #112: 'The Mummy' (1932)

The image of Boris Karloff, awakening in his tomb and draped in bandages, his skin flaky and old, is one of the most iconic in horror history. Alongside Dracula (1931) and Frankenstein (1931), The Mummy is one of Universal Studio's biggest hits. Unlike the aforementioned, it is not based on a piece of literature, but was inspired by the discovery of Tutankhamun's tomb in 1922. Director Karl Freund was hired two days before the start of filming, and this is possibly the reason for the film's problems, with Freund's experience lying primarily in the cinematography department.

When the tomb of ancient Egyptian priest Imhotep (Boris Karloff) is discovered by an archaeological expedition, an old script is read out aloud that resurrects his mummified body. Ten years later, the archaeological dig continues, and they are approached by a mysterious man who identifies himself as Ardath Bey, claiming he knows the location of the tomb of Princess Ankh-es-en-amon. Excited by the prospect, they begin to dig, but they are unaware that Bey is the resurrected Imhotep, and is searching for the soul of his lost love. He believes that a young woman named Helen (Zita Johann) is the reincarnation of the long-dead Princess, and wants to steal her soul.

Boris Karloff excels here. Although not exactly the most talented of actors, he has the ability to use his sheer colossal presence to get through to the audience. His giant frame and eerie dead eyes pierce the screen, and he overshadows his quite hammy co-stars. There is a reason why Imhotep and his portrayal of Frankenstein's Monster are iconic. Karloff's face is most interesting, and glares out from beneath all the excellent make-up. Thank God, then, for Karloff, as the majority of the film is quite average.

Possibly the main negative of the film is the director Karl Freund. A legend of a cinematographer, he is responsible for some giants of cinema such as Fritz Lang's Metropolis (1927), F.W. Murnau's The Last Laugh (1924) and Tartuffe (1925), and Carl Dreyer's Michael (1924). He is also uncredited as co-director for Universal's Dracula and well as being cinematographer. The direction seems by-the-number and unspectacular, and while Frankenstein was in the safe hands of James Whale, and Dracula in the hands of Tod Browning, The Mummy seems to suffer from Freund's inexperience. 

That said, it is enjoyable in the way that most old horror films are. It is short and snappy, and doesn't outstay its welcome, clocking in at a mere 73 minutes. It is also quite silly, and Imhotep's supernatural abilities reveal some glaring plot-holes. But it obviously has it's fans, as it has been re-made and re-imagined countless amounts of times. Now for the Hammer remake! 

Directed by: Karl Freund

Starring: Boris Karloff, Zita Johann, David Manners, Arthur Byron, Edward Van Sloan

Country: USA

Rating: ***

Tom Gillespie

Review #66: 'Scarface' (1932)

Commissioned by Howard Hughes in the Pre-Code era, Scarface arrived in a time when the public had a growing interest in organised crime. The James Cagney film The Public Enemy (1931), and the Edward G. Robinson-starring Little Caesar (also 1931), both had a nasty gangster as their protagonist, and portrayed their rise and fall through the criminal underworld. Whether the audience had a genuine fascination with a very real problem at the time, or they just enjoyed the exploitative violence and colourful characters, I don't know. Scarface remains one of the best examples of the genre, and a film that would directly influence many a modern-day gangster film.

Tony Camonte (Paul Muni) is the chief lieutenant in the new criminal organisation overlooked by Johnny Lovo (Osgood Perkins). They plan to bootleg alcohol on a large scale throughout the city, and Johnny hopes to unite all the gangs so they can operate efficiently without any trouble. Tony is warned not to try to muscle into the turf ran by an Irish gang, but Tony ignores these orders, and begins an extremely long and violent war. With his coin-flipping second-in-command Guino (George Raft), Tony gains more power, and soon the greed and ambition take over him. He also has an over-protective, almost incestuous, relationship with his sister Francesca (Ann Dvorak) and frightens off any man that shows an interest in her. Little does he know that she is secretly seeing Guino.

After many demands for script re-writes by the Hays Office (who would later introduce the ridiculous Hays Code), Howard Hughes finally put the film in production and told director Howard Hawks to 'make it as realistic and as grisly as possible'. Only passed by the censors a year after production was finished, Hawks would have to change the ending and introduce a title card damning the actions of the kind of criminals that the film portrayed. Still, Howard Hughes was forced to release it in states that lacked censorship rules, after refusing to edit the film any further.

The film still remains extremely violent even by today's standards. On one hand, it's an interesting commentary on the corruption of the American Dream, showing how greed can consume, and on the other it's an enjoyable and rough gangster film with exciting and impressively realised gun-fights and drive-by's. It's all anchored by Paul Muni, who gives a convincing and nasty performance. His character acts completely without remorse, and therefore extremely unlikeable. Tony Camonte is obviously based on Al Capone, complete with identical facial scar (hence the title), and apparently the set was visited by Capone's thugs.

I was quite surprised how much the Brian De Palma/Al Pacino remake took from this - the sibling jealousy, the shootout ending, the double-crossing of his boss - and out of the two, I feel this is ultimately the better film. There's just something authentic about the film that the remake failed to capture. I'll certainly be tracking down some more Pre-Code crime films after this, and if any of the others can capture the excitement and the grit of this, then it will be a great experience. And watch out for a small role for Boris Karloff!


Directed by: Howard Hawks, Richard Rosson
Starring: Paul Muni, Osgood Perkins, Ann Dvorak, George Raft, Boris Karloff
Country: USA

Rating: *****

Tom Gillespie