Showing posts with label Universal Horrors. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Universal Horrors. Show all posts

February 27, 2021

Amazing Animal People #2: Captive Wild Woman

Amazing Animal People trading card #2: Paula Dupree, Captive Wild Woman, 1943

Mad endocrinologist Dr. Sigmund Walters (John Carradine) has been experimenting with transmuting animals into higher orders of species with glandular transplants. When he decides that he needs to experiment on larger animals, he arranges to have Cheela, a gentle gorilla, stolen from a local circus.

Walters is convinced that in order to transform Cheela into a human with true human emotions, a brain transplant is also needed. He sacrifices his insubordinate female lab assistant (Fay Helm) for the purpose, and voila!, sultry Paula Dupree (Acquanetta) is born.

The mad doctor brazenly introduces his new creation to the circus' animal trainer, Fred Mason (Milburn Stone), who originally captured Paula in her gorilla form. Paula immediately falls for Fred, even saving his life when a circus lion gets out of control. But when Paula finds out Fred has a beautiful fiancée (Evelyn Ankers), jealousy causes her to revert to her animal nature.

Funanimal Fact: Although Acquanetta (born Mildred Davenport in 1921) had been in a couple of other movies previously, Universal still decided to “introduce” her as Paula Dupree, “A New Sensation in Savagery,” in its marketing campaign. Captive Wild Woman was the first of a series of three films featuring the character -- two mediocre follow-ups, Jungle Woman (1944) and The Jungle Captive (1945) ran the franchise into the ground.

Acquanetta didn’t have a single line of dialog in Captive Wild Woman. Nonetheless, she found the experience exhilarating and exhausting:

“There was no preparation on my part, but I sat sometimes for two and a half hours being made up by a makeup artist. I think I had more emotional feeling, being made up for that, than anything I ever did, because it was exhausting. Edward Dmytryk [the director] and I had great rapport -- we dated briefly. I thought he was tremendous. Eddie gave me more freedom, I think, than other directors. I’ve always felt that I was never ‘me’ in movies -- do you know there was never a film where I was allowed to smile?” [Tom Weaver, Michael Brunas and John Brunas, Universal Horrors, The Studio’s Classic Films, 1931-1946, 2nd Ed., McFarland, 2007, p. 343]

 

John Carradine and Acquanetta in Captive Wild Woman, 1943
"That'll be two bits for the haircut and the shave, Miss Dupree."

Animal Crack-up (click on the text to see the punchline):

Why don't gorillas play poker?

Don't miss these other Amazing Animal People

Don't miss the first installment of the Amazing Animal People:
Lota from the Island of Lost Souls (1932)
and the full review of Captive Wild Woman right here on this site!

November 15, 2019

Martin “Thanos” Scorsese vs. the Marvel Universe


This is truly the age of faux controversy. I never cease to be amazed at the ability of the social media behemoth to take a fairly innocent celebrity comment, strip it of all context, and blast it out there to get all those thumbs furiously tapping out as many knee-jerk tweets, texts and posts as possible. I was particularly interested when King of the Movie Nerds Martin Scorsese caused a major kerfuffle with a comment on Marvel superhero movies in an Empire magazine interview:
“I don’t see them,” he says of the MCU. “I tried, you know? But that’s not cinema. Honestly, the closest I can think of them, as well-made as they are, with actors doing the best they can under the circumstances, is theme parks. It isn’t the cinema of human beings trying to convey emotional, psychological experiences to another human being.”
(By the way, I mean no disrespect in using the term Nerd; quite the opposite. Not only does Mr. Scorsese, well into his ‘70s, work his butt off making great movies, he spends his time off the set tirelessly advocating for film preservation and the richest possible viewing experience. Recently, he’s tackled the arcane tech issue of motion-smoothing on newer TVs that changes the way movies look on the small screen, and is working with major manufacturers to develop a “film mode” that better replicates the look that filmmakers are going for. It takes a passionate nerd to step in and do the nitty-gritty work so the rest of us can take it for granted that our favorite films will be there for us.)

Home viewing night with popcorn
Martin would prefer you watch his movies in a theater, but if you
have to watch at home, turn off that motion-smoothing setting.
There’s nothing new or particularly outrageous in Scorsese’s remarks. Lots of people have been comparing the blockbuster comic book and sci-fi movies to amusement park rides since at least the early 2000s. Heck, I’ve said it more than once on this blog -- in fact, it’s enshrined as part of my “About the Blog” statement (revised in November 2018):
“Theaters compete [with Netflix and Amazon Prime] with CGI-infested blockbusters that more resemble amusement park rides than traditional movies (and desperately try to deliver on ever-more exorbitant ticket prices). It’s Cinerama all over again, trying to woo jaded consumers away from the net, if only for a couple of hours. An increasingly desperate Hollywood pushes every franchise entry, re-boot, re-make or sequel as an “event,” with accompanying big ticket prices, leading to empty wallets and growing cynicism.”
Scorsese tries to be as gentle as possible with his fellow filmmakers -- “...as well made as they [MCU movies] are, with actors doing the best they can…” -- while simply expressing a personal preference. That this should become such a huge news story, with all the theatrical hand-wringing and head-shaking (e.g., “James Gunn ‘Saddened’ by Martin Scorcese...”) is characteristic of a culture that needs to stoke controversy and outrage over everything, 24/7, to capture eyeballs and sell ads.

Variety’s coverage of the teapot tempest featured a number of prickly, defensive tweets from the usual MCU suspects, but I smiled when I saw this very sensible reaction:

To be fair to the MCU fans whose feelings got hurt, I think saying that superhero movies aren’t “cinema” is somewhat closed-minded. Even if you privilege art over industry in your conception of Cinema with a capital C, just because a movie doesn’t plumb a group of characters’ psychological depths doesn’t mean there’s no art or cinematic value there.

The purpose of the art is just different -- in the case of superhero movies, to create worlds that inspire wonder and awe as backdrops to basic conflicts of good and evil. You can complain about the techno-fetishism, or the over-reliance on digital effects, or even simply that they’re loud and dumb (and believe me, I do), but hey, to give the Devil his due, they are also the result of small armies of highly talented, passionate people who work long hours at their art.

Poster - House of Frankenstein (1944)
When I was kid, we'd never heard of a "shared
cinematic universe," but we sure did love the
Universal monster rallies.
Also, if we think of cinema as having an enduring value and relevance for audiences over longer time frames, then we have to pay respect to the good-vs.-evil melodramas that, on the face of it, seem so puerile. After all, millions of people still enjoy the fruits of the very first cinematic universe -- the Universal monsters -- decades after they first appeared in theaters, while many of the “adult” dramas of the period are all but forgotten. (If home video releases and streaming availability are any indication, then the monsters win hands down.)

In a recent Den of Geek article, "Universal Monsters, How the Wolf Man Created the First Cinematic Universe," David Crow writes,
"Over 80 years since it began, the Universal Monsters legacy continues to stretch into a new century, spreading celluloid immortality like a juicy Transylvanian kiss. The Universal Monsters did it first, and in many ways, their blunt directness had a special charm that is sorely lacking in the self-seriousness currently masquerading in their bloodless, caped descendants."
I doubt Scorsese would hold up the Universal monsters as a model of good cinema, but at least a few current film writers appreciate the “ancient” (by 2019 standards) antecedents of today’s multi-billion $ fantasy and sci-fi franchises.

Scorsese’s crime was expressing an off-the-cuff, mild prejudice that we all indulge in from time to time: Comic book movies aren’t cinema; George R.R. Martin’s novels aren’t literature; Andy Warhol didn’t create “art.” You don’t have to agree to see where the person is coming from.

Lithograph reproduction - Andy Warhol's soup can
I don't know if this is art, but I know
what I like, and I like soup.
Maybe true “cinema” should engage audiences more directly with deep, meaningful takes on the human condition. Maybe superhero movies don’t cut it. So what? My advice to MCU fans is to walk away, decide not to engage. You don’t need to have the whole world behind you, and certainly not dear old Martin, to enjoy your movies. Take the high road. Watch The Irishman when it comes out. Cleanse your palate by enjoying a more down-to-earth drama or comedy. Maybe track down an old genre flick or two just to get a sense of how movies have evolved (the classic Universal monsters might be a good place to start). Then get back to your passion, refreshed and relaxed, and watch some superheroes artfully kick ass.

November 19, 2018

TV Ads for Aging Monsters

The classic Universal monsters we all know and love are getting up there in age: Dracula and Frankenstein are 87, the Wolf Man is 77, and the youngest of the litter, the Creature from the Black Lagoon, almost qualifies for Medicare at 64.

Thanks to DVD, Blu-ray and retro shows like Me-TV’s Svengoolie, there’s some life in the old monsters yet. Speaking of retro TV, I’m fortunate to live in a large enough metro area that I pull in quite a few channels through the digital antenna (yes, I cut the cable cord a few years ago): Me-TV, Movies!, Grit, Decades, Comet, This-TV and several more. For someone of my age and tastes, it’s a cornucopia. The downside has been having to train myself not to DVR everything in sight. Even in retirement, there are just so many hours in the day, and old men cannot live by old movies alone.

And if you believe the commercials that air on those retro channels, it’s hard for old men (or women) to live at all -- at least not without a lot of help from vultures companies specializing in scams products and services aimed at the elderly. The profile of the average retro TV viewer is not a pretty one: (S)he is decrepit, arthritic, wears adult diapers, takes a variety of expensive meds, needs a scooter to go more than few yards, is contemplating a reverse mortgage, can’t get up once (s)he’s prone on the floor, and is constantly worried how loved ones will cover funeral expenses when (s)he goes.

This got me to thinking -- now that the classic monsters are firmly in this age category, what would ads aimed specifically at their needs look like? Here’s my take on the Mad Men’s ad campaigns for aging monsters.

New and Improved! Ultra-adjustable Laboratory Table!

No mad doctor's laboratory should be without one! With just one touch of your cold, dead finger, adjust your table from horizontal to 90o in seconds! Order today and get two tables for the price of one, complete with premium gold-buckled restraining straps!*
*Pay separate shipping and handling

Hair Club for Wolf-Men

There's nothing like a full head of hair to restore confidence and bring out a new, better you! We don't use implants, weaves or wigs -- just pure, natural moonlight. Make an appointment today and we'll cover your whole body with luxurious hair at no extra charge!

Imhotep's Age-Denying Skin Cream

Use this revolutionary new product and erase 3,000 years of fine lines and wrinkles in no time! Compare with creams costing hundreds of goat skins more! Try it today -- you're worth it!

Allstake's Supplemental Death Insurance

There are more zealots with wooden stakes out there than ever. If you should get staked, are you sure your hypnotized flunkies will have the means to bury you in unhallowed ground? Allstake's insurance plan costs mere pennies a day, there are no Dr. Van Helsing exams to go through, and your premiums will never go up. Enroll today for those poor lost souls who've done so much for you -- after all, you didn't pick them because they were rich!

Monster Alert is On Call 24/7

"Help! I'm being chased by a monster, I've fallen, and I can't get up!"TM There's nothing more frightening than being sprawled on the ground, ready to be scooped up by a slavering monster. Now, B-movie victims have only to touch their Monster Alert pendant button,* and one of our trained staff members will alert the authorities 24/7, 365 days a year.**
* Also comes in a handy keychain!
** Response times and quality of first responders may vary

March 11, 2014

"Mummy will make it all better": Boo-boos on Mummy Movie Sets

What can you say about Tutankhamun (King Tut to friends and fans)? He became ruler of Egypt at the age of 9, married his half-sister, erected a bunch of monuments (as Pharaohs liked to do back then), reinstated the god Amun to the top of the divine hierarchy, restored friendly relations with some nearby kingdoms, and then promptly died at the ripe old age of 19. He was buried in a relatively economy-sized tomb (probably because he inconveniently kicked off before something grander was ready) and was promptly forgotten, even by the ancient Egyptians, until he was unearthed by archaeologist Howard Carter and moneyman and English Lord George Herbert in 1922.

Tutankhamun, ruled ca. 1332 BC – 1323 BC
Tutankhamun, King of the Mummies!
Given that we live in a society where the vast majority of us don't know much about history and couldn't find Egypt on a map to save our couch potato lives, it's hard to imagine that the discovery created much of a stir... but it did. It was in all the papers (thanks Egypt, for giving us papyrus!), and artifacts from Tut's tomb have pretty much been traveling around the globe ever since. For those who think about these things, Tutankhamun's spectacular mummy mask is one of the most iconic, recognizable images of ancient Egypt in the world, and will probably stay that way. Pretty good for a skinny boy-king who was the product of incest and suffered from, among other things, Marfan syndrome, Wilson-Turner X-linked mental retardation syndrome, Fröhlich syndrome (adiposogenital dystrophy), Klinefelter syndrome, androgen insensitivity syndrome, aromatase excess syndrome in conjunction with sagittal craniosynostosis syndrome, Antley–Bixler syndrome or one of its variants and temporal lobe epilepsy. (Holy cow!)

But better yet, the frail boy-king is directly responsible for the classic mummy movies that horror film mavens like you and me enjoy to this very day (and no, I'm not talking about those despicable Brendon Fraser CGI abominations). It's pretty much guaranteed that when you put a Pharaonic curse on your tomb, and thousands of years later defilers of that tomb seem to drop like flies not long after raiding it, Hollywood will jump on the story faster than jackals on fresh meat.

For skeptics, here's what happened to the "flies" who defied King Tut's curse (from Wikipedia)
  • Lord Carnarvon, financial backer of the excavation team who was present at the tomb's opening, died on 5 April 1923 after a mosquito bite became infected; he died 4 months and 7 days after the opening of the tomb.
  • George Jay Gould I, a visitor to the tomb, died in the French Riviera on 16 May 1923 after he developed a fever following his visit.
  • Prince Ali Kamel Fahmy Bey of Egypt died 10 July 1923: shot dead by his wife.
  • Colonel The Hon. Aubrey Herbert, MP, Carnarvon's half-brother, became nearly blind and died on 26 September 1923 from blood poisoning related to a dental procedure intended to restore his eyesight.
  • Sir Archibald Douglas-Reid, a radiologist who x-rayed Tutankhamun's mummy, died on 15 January 1924 from a mysterious illness.
  • Alexander King, an American promoter and exhibitor of some of the more valuable artifacts from the tomb, died on 18 October 1924 after being thrown down a flight of steps by a mysterious intruder.
  • Sir Lee Stack, Governor-General of Sudan, died on 19 November 1924: assassinated while driving through Cairo.
  • A. C. Mace, a member of Carter's excavation team, died in 1928 from arsenic poisoning
  • The Hon. Mervyn Herbert, Carnarvon's half brother and the aforementioned Aubrey Herbert's full brother, died on 26 May 1929, reportedly from "malarial pneumonia".
  • Captain The Hon. Richard Bethell, Carter's personal secretary, died on 15 November 1929: found smothered in his bed.
  • Richard Luttrell Pilkington Bethell, 3rd Baron Westbury, father of the above, died on 20 February 1930; he supposedly threw himself off his seventh floor apartment.
  • Howard Carter opened the tomb on 16 February 1923, and died well over a decade later on 2 March 1939; however, some have still attributed his death to the "curse".
Okay, so I embellished the list with a rip-off from Hammer's The Curse of the Mummy's Tomb (1964; know which one?), but it's still impressive in an avenging-bony-spectral-hand-of-death-reaches-out-from-the-tomb kind of way. As they say, truth is often stranger than fiction. Tutankhamun's curse clearly precipitated some of the more enjoyable Universal and Hammer horrors of the 20th century's mid-section. I'm not prepared to say that it's responsible for the mummy movie mishaps listed here, but are you 100% sure it's not?

"He nearly killed me! He took my breath away!"


Poster - The Mummy's Ghost (1944)
Poor Creighton Tull Chaney! The son of the Man of a Thousand faces had big shoes to fill. Born into a tumultuous and fractured show business family, he spent his boyhood years living in an assortment of homes and boarding schools until his remarried (not to mention cold and distant) father could provide a stable home life. Led to believe as a child that his mother was dead, he discovered years later that she was still alive when Lon Sr. died in 1930. Quickly typecast by Universal in monster roles and dubbed Lon Chaney Jr. to take advantage of his father's mystique, Junior rode the long Hollywood slide from celebrated character and leading roles (Of Mice and Men, The Wolf Man) to such micro-budget quickies as Face of the Screaming Werewolf (1964) and Al Adamson's execrable Dracula vs. Frankenstein (1971) at the end. His legendary drinking on the set didn't help.

If in the space of a few short years you'd traded in your dapper leading man's suit and wolf's head cane for the tattered, Fuller's earth-splattered bandages of the mute, shuffling bottom-of-the-bill Mummy, you might have been driven to drink too. And you might even have taken it out on your fellow cast members:
Still from The Mummy's Curse (1944)
"Okay Lon, you can stop now... Lon? Lon!!!"
"In shooting the scene where the Mummy strangles Prof. Norman, Chaney seized actor Frank Reicher's throat 'and squeezed so forcefully that Reicher nearly fainted,' [Director Reginald] LeBorg told us. 'Reicher was an old man and frail, and Chaney got carried away.' Reicher cried out, 'He nearly killed me! He took my breath away!' There is evidence of this in the film itself [The Mummy's Ghost, 1944]: In the few frames where Reicher's face is visible as Chaney chokes him, the pinched expression on the older actor's face looks uncomfortably real.

LeBorg told Greg Mank in Cinefantastique: 'Reicher very nearly was unconscious! He was moaning on the floor... Chaney had just become carried away-- he was putting everything he had into the monster. Luckily, Reicher didn't complain. ... We massaged his neck and gave him some water. But the next day, when I saw him again, I spied a look at Reicher's neck, and you could see he had spots there, from the strangling!'" [Tom Weaver, Michael Brunas and John Brunas, Universal Horrors: The Studio's Classic Films, 1931-1946, 2nd. Ed., McFarland, 2007]

Where to find it:
Available on DVD

Oldies.com

"Don't worry, it won't hurt your skin..."


Poster - The Mummy's Curse (1944)
Does the name Virginia Christine mean anything to you? (Virginia who?) Well, I'm a big fan, because Virginia represents two of my very favorite things -- mummy movies and coffee. She not only had the privilege of being in one of the creepiest scenes in all of classic horror, but she became the patron saint of coffee drinkers everywhere during her 21 year stint as the kindly Mrs. Olson in Folgers commercials. She was a newly minted starlet in 1944 when she played the revivified Princess Ananka in The Mummy's Curse. And what a way to come back from the dead-- deep in the muck of the Louisiana bayous! I hope there was lots of coffee and other amenities on the set, because few actresses would have put up with what she had to go through:
"We shot the film, and then came the last day of shooting when I change from a mummy to a lovely Egyptian princess. All through the picture, [makeup artist] Jack [Pierce] kept coming on the set, saying, 'I'm using something new on you, Virginia. It's going to be terrific! Don't worry, it won't hurt your skin.' I was very young and 'It won't hurt your skin' began to ring in my ears. I was a basket case the night before shooting. ... I was there at four or five in the morning, and sat in the makeup chair for five-and-one-half hours. He started with pieces of cotton dipped in witch hazel to fill in all the youthful lines. Then, he lined it with an orange stick to make the wrinkles. That had to be dried. And then came the Denver mudpack, and that had to be dried. He worked a little patch at a time. Unfortunately, we made a mistake in wardrobe because we left the arms bare, which meant that the arms had to be done, too, and the hands... every place the skin was exposed. It was a tedious, long process. And, of course the natural thing happened... I had to go to the bathroom.  ...  I couldn't smile, I couldn't laugh. I couldn't talk. And I got the giggles in the john. It was so ridiculous! ...
Virgina Christine as Ananka in The Mummy's Curse (1944)
After 3000 years, Princess Ananka is done with her
mudpack and is ready for a stone massage.
After the full session, they put me in a cart and took me out to the back lot. Very carefully, they dug a hole, my height, right in the dirt. For any big star, they would have sifted the sand and done it on the stage, and had it cleaned. They laid me down in the thing and covered me with burnt cork which photographs like dirt. They turned the hose on so the dried cork got wet and looked like the earth around it. I laid there with this much of me exposed and thought, 'Oh God, how many creepy, crawly things are in this with me?'" [Ibid.]

Where to find it:
Available on DVD

Oldies.com

And he never played the Mummy again.


Poster - The Mummy (1959)
If you're a regular reader of this blog (and I hope you are), then you know that Christopher Lee's resume extends far beyond his work in The Lord of the Rings trilogy. In fact, ol' Chris' film resume is very, very lengthy, extending all the way back to the late 1940s. This man does not know the meaning of the word 'retirement.' Discriminating film buffs are OK with that LOTR CGI-fest stuff, but really appreciate Lee's contributions as the greatest technicolor Dracula of all-time. Like Lon Chaney Jr., who played the Wolf Man, Frankenstein's monster, the Mummy and Dracula for Universal, Lee was the go-to guy and master of monsters for Hammer's Universal horror reboots, playing the Frankenstein monster and the Mummy for Hammer as well as the immortal Count. Unlike poor Lon Jr., he only played the Mummy once, and that was enough, thank you very much:
Still - Christopher Lee and Peter Cushing in The Mummy, 1959
Getting impaled was the least of Christopher Lee's
worries on the set of The Mummy (1959).
"In one sequence, Lee, in Mummy garb, smashes through a door which the production crew had mistakenly locked and bolted. Lee broke through the almost unforgiving door, but the impact dislocated his shoulder. This was not the end of his discomfort. Lee later broke through a window with real glass substituted for the commonly used, and relatively safe, sugar glass. The glass slivers from the collision pierced through his mummy bandages like needles. Lee also had some problems in a scene in which he carried actress Yvonne Furneaux over 80 yards at night. In a Scarlet Street (#8) interview, Lee described the incident.

'That was one of the toughest things, physically, I think I've ever had to do. I did things in that film that Mr. Schwarzenegger might have found difficult to do. I wouldn't have believed that I could literally bend down and lift somebody off the ground, but I did it when somebody said, action! Of course, I pulled all the muscles in my neck and shoulders...' " [John 'J.J.' Johnson, Cheap Tricks and Class Acts: Special Effects, Makeup and Stunts from the Films of the Fantastic Fifties, McFarland, 1996]

Where to find it:
Available on DVD

Oldies.com

October 2, 2013

What Might Have Been: The Universal Monster Rally You Never Saw

When the Metzinger Sisters at Silver Scenes put the call out for participants for their Imaginary Film Blogathon, I experienced a flashback (the cinematic kind of course -- I hardly ever drop acid anymore). I saw a skinny, pasty-faced 10 year-old-boy wearing a Dracula cape and directing a motley assortment of neighborhood kids in short plays based on the Universal monster rallies he'd recently seen on the late night horror show (specifically Gravesend Manor, central Iowa's Saturday night horror fest broadcast by WOI Channel 5, and hosted by Malcolm, the Duke, Esmerelda and Claude). The plays were held in my parents' garage, with the garage door used as a very noisy curtain. The audience consisted of extremely patient, slightly bemused parents, with a few semi-curious siblings and friends also parking their butts in the folding chairs.

The Great Imaginary Film Blogathon, hosted by Silver Scenes
As you can imagine, this was in a place and time far away and long ago: a.) neighbors actually knew each other and would hang out together; b.) adults would occasionally find the time to sit still for the nerdy neighbor kid's monster movie-inspired plays; and c.) garages were still used primarily for parking cars vs. storing a lifetime's worth of accumulated junk, and could therefore easily be converted into a makeshift theater.

Alas, from those promising beginnings I failed to become another Steven Spielberg or George Lucas (or even a Joe Dante for that matter), but from time to time over the years, I've thought about what I might do with a Universal monster mash-up. Frankenstein meeting the Wolf Man was a revelation for the 10-year-old me. (At the time, I wasn't the sharpest pencil in the box -- I wondered why Bela Lugosi was listed in the credits but didn't seem to appear in the movie. It took me some time to realize it was dear Bela under all that Frankenstein monster make-up!) Frankenstein Meets the Wolf Man was a tasty appetizer, but the chefs at Universal outdid themselves with the sumptuous feast of House of Frankenstein! (On the other hand, House of Dracula, while certainly moody and atmospheric, left a taste in the mouth like Tuesday leftovers. Can you tell it's getting close to dinner time as I write this?)

For a kid who's very, very into monsters, two in the same film is great, but three classic monsters is sublime. Sometimes, more is indeed more, and the best recipes come from piling on the ingredients: starting with a base of Frankenstein's monster and the Wolf Man, throw in Boris Karloff as a mad, vengeful doctor, add the gaunt, debonair John Carradine as Dracula, and you've got the perfect monster stew! (Yep, it really is getting close to dinner time.) Sure, the various plot lines don't coalesce very well, and the monsters don't really meet up with one another, but there's just something very satisfying and likable in the attempt to merge three classic monster universes. And for those of you who like a side dish or two of pathos with their monster main course, I challenge you not to shed a tear for the lovelorn hunchback Daniel (J. Carrol Naish) or the tragic gypsy girl Ilonka (Elena Verdugo) who loves a wolf man. (Okay, I'm taking a break and getting something to eat…)

Centers of the abnormal brain
(Alright, I'm back.) I know that as a responsible adult, I'm supposed to revere Universal's classic monsters of the '30s and disparage the make-a-quick-buck kiddie matinee monster rallies of the '40s, but as a lover of B's, I can't bring myself to be that high-minded. Frankly, the original Frankenstein, Dracula and Mummy are slooooowwwww-moving and sleep inducing compared to the frenetic, wacky energy of the rallies. One of the greatest horror movies of all time, The Bride of Frankenstein, is essentially an intellectual exercise in spite of its B horror trappings. In contrast, Frankenstein Meets the Wolf Man, House of Frankenstein, House of Dracula and Abbott and Costello Meet Frankenstein engage the cheesy fun center of the brain. And that's not a bad thing, as I've tried to demonstrate with this blog.

Make no mistake, cheesy fun is hard to pull off. Like good comedy, it requires a delicate balance. Try just a little too hard, and you've got something that's patently artificial and just plain bad. Did the producers of Universal's monster rallies of the '40s fail miserably? Look at it this way -- these films have been issued on VHS and DVD multiple times, are still in print, and have been rated by thousands of fans and analyzed by hundreds of reviewers on sites like IMDb. Glenn Strange, the B western actor who donned the Frankenstein monster makeup for several of the rallies, over the years has become the iconic monster, more so perhaps than Boris Karloff. Not bad for throwaway kids' stuff, huh?

So, it is only with the deepest respect for the later films that I try my hand at conceptualizing a Universal rally that might have been. Mixing and matching monsters is no easy task. Naturally, any similarity in what follows to an actual B movie is purely coincidental.


Poster for the monster rally that never was: Chamber of Horrors (1944)
Now Playing: Chamber of Horrors (1944)

Pros: Brings together neglected and underrated Universal monsters in an atmospheric setting
Cons: Script is a confusing mess (okay, so I'm not a screenwriter!)

Directed by George Waggner
Cinematography by George Robinson
Cast: Henry Hull (Kruller), Claude Rains (Cedric Griffin), Evelyn Ankers (Isabel Lewis), Turhan Bey (Eric Iverson), Martin Kosleck (Peter Hoffman), Bela Lugosi (Ahmet), George Zucco (Andoheb), Lon Chaney, Jr. (Kharis), Acquanetta (Ananka)

In their comprehensive and cheesily fun survey of Universal Horrors: The Studio's Classic Films, 1931-1946 (McFarland, 2nd Ed. 2007), Tom Weaver and John and Michael Brunas note that the penultimate monster rally, House of Frankenstein, had something of a shaky start:
"On June 7, 1943, The Hollywood Reporter announced that Universal was developing a new shocker entitled Chamber of Horrors with an all-star cast of goons including the Invisible Man, the Mad Ghoul, the Mummy and 'other assorted monsters.' George Waggner was named as the ringleader of this three-ring circus of horrors. The cast read like a who's who of cinemacabre: Karloff, Chaney Jr., Lugosi, Lorre, Rains, Zucco, Hull and … James Barton (!). Chamber of Horrors never saw the light of day."
(However, the film that was eventually released as House of Frankenstein did get the green light in the summer of 1943 under the working title The Devil's Brood.)

Tom Tyler as the Mummy
"Hey, where's my invitation to the House of Frankenstein?"
I've always loved Universal's Mummy movies (as well as Hammer's), and I feel badly for dear old Kharis that he never got invited to any of the rallies. As described, Chamber of Horrors has a completely different cast of monsters from the two House rallies. It sounds like after Frankenstein Meets the Wolf Man, the studio execs wanted to give their other franchises a shot in the arm (and in the case of the one-shot The Mad Ghoul, possibly make it into a franchise). The 10-year-old kid that still occupies a good portion of my brain was tempted to just throw the Mummy into the pot with Frankenstein, Dracula and the Wolf Man, but I decided to stick with the concept as originally reported -- although I've played around with the cast somewhat. Here goes!

The story: In the Egyptian desert, a uniformed Nazi SS officer, Kruller (Henry Hull) stands at the opening of a newly excavated tomb, interrogating an old local dressed in a traditional robe and wearing a fez. Andoheb (George Zucco), High Priest of Karnak and protector of ancient secrets, is surrounded by soldiers, but he is unnaturally calm. "Your people have betrayed you and led us to Princess Ananka's tomb," he tells Andoheb. "It's all over-- you might as well turn over the Scroll of Life to us as well. We will find it with or without your help!"

"For defiling Ananka's tomb, you and your men will be cursed for a thousand lifetimes," Andoheb responds defiantly. "The Scroll will never end up in infidel hands like yours!"

Henry Hull
Kruller nods at his men, who grab Andoheb and take him off camera. As a shot rings out, we see a face peering out from behind a large rock near the tomb (and it looks a lot like Bela Lugosi!). Schiller motions his men: "pack up the tomb's contents and ship it to Berlin. The Princess herself will come with me."

Cut to the sleepy college town of Mapleton, New York, where an inquest into the bizarre death of Dr. Alfred Morris is being held. On the witness stand, concert pianist Isabel Lewis (Evelyn Ankers) tells a weird tale of how the seemingly kindly Dr. Morris exposed her fiance Ted to an ancient Mayan poison gas, turning him into a living dead man and mindless slave to the mad doctor. Worse still, Ted had to have regular injections of fluid from fresh human hearts to keep going. After her testimony, Isabel and her new boyfriend, debonair Eric Iverson (Turhan Bey) are approached by a strange, rat-faced little man who introduces himself as Peter Hoffman (Martin Kosleck), a researcher with the newly opened Museum of Metaphysics and Ancient Sciences. When Hoffman insists that Isabel knows more than she's telling and tries to grab her arm, Iverson steps between the two and advises the strange man to get lost. Regaining his composure, Hoffman apologizes and invites the couple to visit the museum. Fade out.

Night. The camera slowly zooms in on what looks to be a deserted house. The night wind moans through the gnarled branches of the trees surrounding the house. Close-up of the front door, and a nameplate: Dr. Alfred Morris. The doorknob starts turning by itself. Inside the house, a chair is knocked over by an invisible body, and another door opens by itself. We see a large room set up as a laboratory. Beakers are brushed aside by an invisible arm, file cabinets open by themselves and disgorge their contents, and finally, a cabinet door flies open and a test tube seems to float through the darkened room.

Martin Kosleck
Cut to another night shot, where Hoffman is entering the gate in front of a large, ramshackle mansion. A sign over the gate reads "Museum of Metaphysics and Ancient Sciences." As he walks up to path to the house, a shadowy figure observes him from a hiding place behind a gnarled old tree. The wan light from the house illuminates his face, and we see it's the same man who watched Kruller and Andoheb at the excavation site. Hoffman proceeds into the house, passing by bizarre tableaux with wax figures depicting ancient Egyptian burial rites and blood-curdling Mayan sacrifices. He touches an ornamental dagger hanging on a nearby wall, and a secret door creaks opens to reveal a passageway.

Cut to a large, underground laboratory lit eerily by torches. Kruller, now dressed in civilian clothes, is hovering over an open sarcophagus. He looks up momentarily as Hoffman enters from the steep, narrow stairway. "It's all coming together now Hoffman!" he says triumphantly. "First we stole Griffin's invisibility formula from the British, who had forgotten it even existed! Then we recovered Morris' secret for creating the living dead from right under the noses of these ignorant townspeople. And we're close -- very close now -- to discovering the Egyptian secret of eternal life!"

"Berlin will be very pleased," Hoffman responds. "Ah yes, Berlin…" Kruller says with a smirk, "we'll keep all of this to ourselves for right now… at least until the final piece is in place." Hoffman frowns. "Do you think it wise that we openly advertise ourselves with this museum? Won't it attract suspicion?" "That's the beauty of it Hoffman! We're hiding in plain sight, and scholars with knowledge of the esoteric arts are coming to us, unwittingly giving us the information to uncover these dark secrets. To them it's all an academic exercise, good for a scientific paper or two. But it will be Germany that will reap the rewards! We'll create whole armies of invisible soldiers, turn our enemies into living dead slaves, and while we're at it, help ourselves to eternal life courtesy of the Egyptians!"

As he finishes his speech, Hoffman's eyes widen in horror. Both men look down at the sarcophagus, where a moldering, bandaged body is slowing sitting up. After emitting a low moan, the mummy slowly and painfully lays back down. "Don't be such a mouse Herr Hoffman," chides Kruller. "I administered the tana leaves to the princess, but by themselves, they can only animate the body for a moment or two. It's the Scroll of Life that we need. We'll find it eventually. But for now, we'll concentrate on Prof. Morris' discoveries. Our test subject here," nodding at Ananka's mummy, "might still be revived with fluid from the hearts of some, shall we say, volunteers.

Bela Lugosi
Cut to the ruins of the Banning house (site of the fiery climax of The Mummy's Tomb). The lurking man previously seen shadowing Kruller is standing just outside the charred foundation of the house. His face is lit by a single candle. "Kharis, your work here is not done. I, your loyal servant Ahmet, have traveled to this strange land to call you yet again to your sacred mission. I have read from the Scroll of Life. It is time to arise again to avenge the House of Karnark and reclaim your Princess!"

The earth in front of Ahmet (Bela Lugosi) stirs, and a clutching, bandaged hand breaks through the clods of dirt. Close-up of Ahmet's grim face as a shadow falls across it. Kharis (Lon Chaney Jr.) stands in front of his summoner, his face and body blackened by fire and dirt. Cut to Kruller's basement laboratory. Closeup of Ananka's mummy. As Kruller and Hoffman converse in the background, the Princess stirs and takes a gulp of air through the moldering bandages. Fade out.

Isabel, with Eric by her side, is being interviewed by a wire service reporter about her recent brush with the living dead. She recaps the story of how Prof. Morris, madly in love with her, gassed her fiance Ted Allison with his deadly Mayan poison. The reporter mentions in passing that he also interviewed a Dr. Kruller and his assistant Hoffman at the new museum, who seem to know a lot about the recent tragedy and Morris' macabre discoveries. Isabel and Eric exchange glances, recalling their encounter with Hoffman at the inquest. "Maybe it's time we visit this museum, since we were so graciously invited," Eric suggests. The reporter suggests that if they're going to visit the museum, they should get in touch with Cedric Griffin (Claude Rains), son of Britain's notorious Invisible Man. He's heard that the museum staff have been researching Griffin and the invisibility formula, and he's traveled all the way from London to interview them.

Isabel and Eric meet Cedric in the lobby of the hotel he's staying at. Cedric tells them that there was a break-in at the university housing his father's papers, most of which have disappeared. Cedric is concerned that Griffin's formula will fall into the wrong hands. Even in the right hands it's dangerous stuff, since the serum still creates madness in anyone foolish enough to take it. Cedric has learned through the academic grapevine that Kruller and Hoffman have studied his father and his research extensively, and they're his only lead to tracking down the papers.

Claude Rains
The three agree to visit the museum together, and arrange a special night tour with Hoffman. Cut to the museum, where Kruller and Hoffman are standing amidst the macabre tableaux in the main room. Hoffman is clearly nervous. "It's not just the singer and her escort visiting tonight, it's Griffin's son as well! I tell you he knows something-- why else would he travel all this way to our humble little museum? It's time to tell Berlin everything we know and get out!"

"Why so faint of heart now Hoffman, when we're so close to capturing the secrets of the ages?" Kruller sneers. "Besides, the bureaucrats in Berlin wouldn't have the faintest clue what to do with our discoveries! Forget them! We hold in our hands the power to kill our enemies without being seen, make others into our slaves, and to live for eternity. With that power, we can move nations, we can rule the world! Now's the time to be a lion Hoffman, not a mouse!"

Hoffman backs away, his mouth agape. Kruller's hands, which had been balled into fists, suddenly turn pale white, then translucent as capillaries and veins pop into view. Kruller opens his hands and brings them up to his face as they disappear altogether. "It's treason!" Hoffman sputters, "you can't mean it!" "Ah, I thought I had more control over it," Kruller mutters to himself. He grins evilly as his dark eyes bore into Hoffman. Kruller advances toward the subjective camera, two handless arms stretched out in front of him. "Here Hoffman, come with me to the lab. It's time we tested Morris' discovery on a living subject. Take heart Mouse, it's all for a good cause…"

Evelyn Ankers
When Isabel, Eric and Cedric arrive at the museum, Kruller, his hands swathed in bandages, greets them. He makes his apologies for Hoffman, who's off on an errand, and explains that he scalded his hands making tea. The visitors exchange glances among themselves as Kruller walks them through the tableaux in the main room. Kruller's face is unnaturally pale, almost translucent as he explains the research he's doing into ancient, occult arts. "We can learn much from what we formerly dismissed as superstition and cheap mysticism," he explains. "The Griffins and the Morris's of the world have proved that…" When Cedric presses him on what he knows about his father's work, Kruller apologizes to the group that he's not feeling well, and needs to retire. At this point, his head is entirely in shadow. The group mumbles their good nights as Kruller, his bandaged hands covering his face, quickly escapes to a back room.

Out in the night air, the three shake their heads in near disbelief. "What an odd duck!" Eric exclaims. "He's clearly hiding something," Cedric says with a frown. "And what do you make of those grotesque displays?" Isabel asks. "Not the work of serious scholars," replies Cedric. Eric finishes his thought: "More like a chamber of horrors!" Isabel suddenly stops walking and shudders violently. Eric grabs her. "What's wrong?" "It felt like a cold hand reached out and brushed my face!" she says breathlessly, her face pale.

At that moment, a horse-drawn wagon noisily bursts out of the dark, nearly sideswiping the group by the side of the road. It clatters on down the road and vanishes in the darkness. "Did you see that?" Cedric exclaims. "I don't think there was anyone driving it!" "Well, we've survived the Chamber of Horrors and a driverless wagon tonight," Eric says drily, trying to lighten the mood. "Let's get out of here before our luck runs out!"

Turhan Bey
In the morning, Eric and Cedric meet at the hotel to compare notes. Cedric shows Eric a copy of the local newspaper, and taps his finger on the headline. "Here's the explanation for the driverless wagon!" "Local Junk Man Found Dead," the headline reads. "The corpse was mutilated, the poor man's heart cut out. Sound familiar?" Cedric asks. "Except that Morris and Ted are dead," Eric responds. "Something's not right here," Cedric observes. "Kruller's evasiveness, and his strange skin condition, and now this murder happening practically on his doorstep… He seems to know an awful lot about Prof. Morris' monstrous work, and my father's … and now the old horror seems to be playing out again. We need to find out what's going on at that so-called museum, and not by taking tours from evasive hosts."

That night, the two men meet nearby the museum to discuss strategy. "I've got to get into the house to look at records, see what they're up to," Cedric says. "Stay here where you have a good view of the whole house, and whistle if anyone gets near while I look for a way in."

Just then, a shadowy figure emerges from the back of the house. Cedric squints. "Too short to be Kruller -- must be Hoffman. Well, one less to worry about," he says as he moves stealthily toward the house. With Cedric seemingly confident about breaking in undetected, Eric decides to follow Hoffman. He shadows the figure through dense forest, then hides behind a tree as Hoffman stumbles into a cemetery. In the light of the moon, Eric can see that Hoffman's face is unnaturally grey and hideously wrinkled-- a living corpse! The ghoulish Hoffman proceeds to get down on his hands and knees, digging furiously at a fresh grave. Before Eric can react, another shadow looms up behind him and he's knocked out with a large tree branch. Closeup of Ahmet, smiling evilly. Kharis appears behind him and shuffles into the clearing.

Poster - The Mummy's Tomb (1942)
The ghoulish Hoffman, obsessed with his digging, looks up just in time to see the 3000-year-old mummy hovering over him. Hoffman stands up just as Kharis clamps a moldering hand around his throat. The ghoul struggles in the mummy's grip, but soon weakens and collapses in a heap on the grave he'd been digging at just a few moments before. Ahmet and Kharis head off into the woods, toward the museum.

Cut to Cedric, who's found the door to the museum conveniently unlocked. He carefully makes his way through the main room, reeling around as a tree branch, blowing in the night wind, taps against a window. He backs up into a bandaged hand, freezing until he realizes it belongs to one of the wax figures-- ironically, a depiction of his father, the original Invisible Man.

Cut to another bandaged hand reaching for Isabel sleeping in her bed. It covers her mouth just as she awakens and starts to scream.

Back to Cedric, who's found a room full of file cabinets. He starts rifling through the drawers.

Back to Eric, who shakily stands up, rubbing his head. He heads off to the museum at a dead run.

Cedric is startled by a noise. He peeks out from behind the office door and gasps at the sight of a headless man in an overcoat, his hands bandaged, carrying the unconscious Isabel. Kruller, now completely invisible, nudges the dagger to open the secret passageway. Cedric pauses, then hurries over to the passageway, slipping through before the door can close. Closeup of Ahmet's face at the window, silently observing, Kharis standing patiently behind him.

Cut to Ahmet's hand opening the passageway. The unholy pair proceed down the staircase.

Poster - The Mad Ghoul (1943)
Cut to Cedric, who slips unseen into the laboratory behind Kruller. The German is completely mad now. The invisible man is almost crooning to the unconscious Isabel: "I may not yet be able to awaken Ananka, but every King must have his Queen, and you shall do nicely for now… and perhaps for eternity!" As he lays her out on the lab table, shuffling footsteps echo from the stairway. Kruller whirls around to confront the centuries-old Kharis shambling toward him, arm outstretched, hand clutching at the air. Behind the mummy, Ahmet is intoning the words of a sacred rite over and over.

Unseen by Kruller, Ahmet's incantation has awakened Ananka in her sarcophagus, who rises slowly, the decaying bandages falling away to reveal… the beautiful and exotic new Universal starlet Acquanetta! Ananka/Acquanetta places her still bandaged hand on Kruller's shoulder. As he turns around again, Kharis is on him, gripping Kruller's invisible throat.

On the lab table, Isabel stirs, sits up, and emits a healthy scream as she takes in the macabre tableau of an ancient mummy and an invisible man locked in mortal struggle. Cedric rushes over to her. Upstairs, Eric has burst into the house and hears Isabel's screams. Trying to locate the source, he reflexively grabs for the dagger on the wall. The passageway opens up, he hears another, louder scream coming from below, and he plunges down the stairs.

He runs straight into Cedric and Isabel, who rush to the exit as the monsters grapple. The quick-thinking Eric chucks the useless dagger, then grabs an old-fashioned gas lantern hanging on a hook. He throws it at a table of lab equipment. The chemicals quickly ignite, and the three stumble up the steps as an intense fire roars through the lab. Ahmet is still chanting even as the flames consume him. Outside of the house, Cedric, Isabel and Eric look back to see that the flames have spread to the main floor, and are now consuming the Chamber of Horrors.

The End.

Imaginary production note #1: Lionel Atwill, king of sinister character actors, was originally slated for the role of Kruller. But health and legal problems caused him to bow out, and the Werewolf of London, Henry Hull, stepped in.

Note #2: Realizing he had other commitments, Universal execs nonetheless tried to entice Boris Karloff to take the small role of Andoheb, hoping to hawk the film as another pairing of the two horror greats, Karloff and Lugosi. When Boris begged off amiable George Zucco agreed to reprise his role from The Mummy's Tomb.

Note #3: The script originally called for a much larger speaking part for Acquanetta, who as Ananka was supposed to be fully revived much earlier in the film. When Waggner showed the producers some test footage, they drastically cut her part and kept her mute.

Note #4: The setting of Mapleton was borrowed from The Mummy's Tomb, but for the purposes of the script, Mapleton was also identified as the setting for The Mad Ghoul.


Trailers for some real Universal monster rallies:

"Hordes of Horror... Spawned by the Devil..."

June 18, 2011

Evil in a Sequined Evening Gown

The Spider Woman Strikes Back (1946)

First, let's talk about truth in advertising. The title sure makes this film sound like a sequel, and an interesting one at that-- who is this mysterious Spider Woman? Who is she striking back at, and why? Any amateur IMDb sleuth would quickly discover that The Spider Woman played by Gale Sondergaard tangled with Universal's Sherlock Holmes (Basil Rathbone) just a couple years before, but to paraphrase the great detective, "it's not so elementary my dear Watson."

Truth is, Universal had planned to cash in on the earlier film's reputation with a whole series to be helmed by Ford Beebe and featuring the deliciously evil character.  But studio politics and/or financial concerns scuttled the project, with the exception of Strikes Back. Universal obviously wanted to recoup some of the money they'd sunk into the ostensible sequel, but delayed shooting for several months while they scaled it back. 

Further evidence of the studio's lack of faith in the film can be seen in the IMDb entry, where half the credited cast are noted as having "scenes deleted." It seems to have been downsized both before and after cameras started rolling. It's a wonder it survived at all-- the end product clocks in at 59 minutes, short by even B programmer standards. What the poor misled moviegoers did get for their hard-earned money was a spider woman of sorts played by the same great Sondergaard, but Holmes and Watson were nowhere in sight.

In spite of the faux Sherlock Holmes association thrust on it, The Spider Woman Strikes Back is a decent, if low rent, horror-thriller programmer with one rich, ripe performance (Sondergaard), a plucky heroine-in-peril (Brenda Joyce), and "Brute Man" Rondo Hatton skulking around for good measure. Given the studio's careless handling, Strikes Back has its flaws-- it drags in places (even in a 59 minute running time!), and there are more than a few continuity lapses and plot holes due to the hack edit job. But it has a couple of scenes of jaw-dropping, gothic campiness that make for a very good time if you're in the mood.

It all begins with chic Jean Kingsley (Joyce), arriving by bus in the small rural community of Domingo. It seems she's come to town to be a companion/assistant to wealthy recluse Zenobia Dollard (Sondergaard), a botanist who lost her sight in the jungles of Central America. Inexplicably dressed in an expensive fur coat (later we find out she quit her merchandising job for more peace and quiet), she discovers that she's missed the last taxi for the evening. By coincidence, she runs into ex-boyfriend and rancher Hal Wentley (Kirby Grant), who is more than happy to drive her out to Zenobia's. Jean is grateful, but a little peeved-- she obviously doesn't have room for old beaus in her new life.

Jean wonders what she's gotten herself into.
As they drive up to the house, Jean remarks on how dark and quiet it is. Hal reminds her that Zenobia is blind, so she doesn't need the light. Jean gets a second bad feeling when they're greeted at the door by Zenobia's mute, dour, and world-class ugly manservant Mario (Hatton). The doubts seem to be dispelled, however, when the mistress of the house greets Jean in the parlor. Even though she tells Jean she wasn't expecting her until morning, nonetheless Zenobia is dressed in an elegant, formal evening gown. "I do hope you like me and will be happy here Miss Kingsley," she says, smiling sweetly. When Jean declines her offer of dinner, Zenobia insists that she at least drink a glass of milk. Zenobia is a very firm believer in a glass of milk before bed -- a little too firm -- but Jean brushes off the eccentricity and dutifully drinks it.

It turns out that in this house, milk before bedtime is not such a good idea. At first, Jean is captivated by the elegant, worldly woman with her stories of adventure and exploration in the wilds of Central America. And as she interacts more with the locals, everyone she talks to (including rancher Hal) have only the nicest things to say about her kindness and generosity. But gradually, Jean's suspicions build again. For all her kindness, Zenobia seems to have had bad luck in keeping companions for very long. A letter for Jean's predecessor, who was supposed to have quit to get married, comes to the house. Jean writes back to the forwarding address, but that letter is returned. And in spite of all those wholesome glasses of milk before bed, she finds herself lethargic and unable to get up at a decent hour-- something that's never happened to her before. It doesn't help that she hears strange tapping sounds coming from behind the wall of her walk-in closet, or that every time she turns around in a long, dark hall, the frightful Mario seems to be following her.

Adding to the intrigue, she hears gossip at the local dry goods store / post office about the terrible luck that the local ranchers are having. Cattle are mysteriously dying, and a local boy is sick from drinking suspect milk. The problem is so bad that many cattlemen are packing up and leaving for greener pastures. Rancher Hal thinks the cows are eating some kind of poison weed new to the area, and calls in an agriculture agent (Milburn Stone) to help investigate.

"You're going to die Jean, just like the others..."
Meanwhile, back at the old dark house, Jean gets a shock when she quietly observes Zenobia concentrating on collecting spiders from the leaves of a plant, and realizes that her employer is not blind after all. Mario, seeing everything, tries to warn his mistress in sign language that she's been spotted. Jean faints (or pretends to faint), and the unflappable Zenobia feigns concern and fusses over Jean as she comes to. Jean's eyes are now wide open concerning her duplicitous employer. She soon learns that night after night, as she's lain in bed drugged, Zenobia has been draining her blood to feed to her prize carnivorous plant. The plant in turn supplies Zenobia with deadly blossoms that she's using to secretly poison the local cattle and drive the ranchers off the land once owned by her family.

More truth in advertising: moviegoers who expected to see large, venomous tarantulas crawling around, killing unfortunate victims in their sleep were no doubt disappointed. The "Spider Woman" here is more of a "Carnivorous Plant Woman," who needs spiders and human blood to keep her strange, precious pet happy. But when you're famous for being the Spider Woman, you go with it. Gale Sondergaard went with these exotic, villainous roles more than she cared to. Years later she told an interviewer:
They thought they would do a series starring me as the Spider Woman and it had nothing to do with the other one. Well, I almost had hysterics at one time out of just hating it so, I remember. It came out, and people still talk about it, think it's great. And I'm all right… I've seen it, and it isn't anything to be ashamed of, but I didn't like it when I did it. (Quoted in Universal Horrors: The Studio’s Classic Films, 1931-1946, 2nd ed., Weaver, et al.)
Dahling, you look absolutely mahvelous!
Having won the very first best supporting actress Oscar for her debut performance in Anthony Adverse (1936), I suppose she can be forgiven the frustration she felt at the kinds of cartoonish roles she was getting ten years later. However, around the same time as The Spider Woman Strikes Back, she sufficiently impressed Hollywood and audiences with a supporting role in Anna and the King of Siam (1946) that she was nominated again (she lost to The Razor Edge's Anne Baxter).

Rondo Hatton (Mario the mute manservant) is a tragic story. Deciding to pursue a military career as a young man, he ended up in the trenches in France in World War I and was exposed to poison gas. Pensioned, but still needing to remain active, he became a reporter for a Tampa, Florida newspaper. During that time he developed the rare syndrome acromegaly, which causes deformation of bones, swelling of the soft tissues of the head, hands, and feet, and swelling of internal organs. (While acromegaly is a disorder of the pituitary gland, speculation was rampant that the poison gas was ultimately responsible for Hatton's condition.) Hatton, covering the shooting of a movie in the Tampa area, was noticed by director Henry King, and ended up being lured out to Hollywood in 1936.

He secured a contract with Universal, and earned notoriety for portraying a succession of bogeymen in cheap thrillers. Like Sondergaard, he has a Sherlock Holmes connection-- perhaps his best known role is that of "The Creeper" in Universal's 1944 Holmes entry The Pearl of Death. Hatton died of a heart condition brought on by the acromegaly a month or so before The Spider Woman Strikes Back was released. (Another story related in Universal Horrors is that during filming of Strikes Back, Sondergaard thought Hatton's looks were the product of the studio's make-up department!)

Strikes Back is worth seeking out if only for Sondergaard's deliciously evil hamming. Who can resist The Spider Woman, decked out in a slinky black evening gown, her eyebrows arched, declaring triumphantly to the cowering heroine: "You'll die Jean, just like the others. But it won't be really dying… you'll live on in this beautiful plant!…"?

The Spider Woman Strikes Back is available on DVD-R from Sinister Cinema (the print from 16mm is watchable, but degraded in spots).


Wealthy recluse Zenobia Dollard (Gale Sondergaard) and her mute manservant Mario (Rondo Hatton) feed the "beautiful creatures" in her basement laboratory: