Abbott & Costello Meet the Killer

The first murder victim and Lou.

Following the huge success of Abbott and Costello Meet Frankenstein (1948), Universal Pictures was anxious to make another horror-comedy with its top stars. The studio purchased the rights to a screenplay titled Easy Does It, which was originally intended for Bob Hope. It then cast Boris Karloff as one of the heavies and bestowed the film with the awkward title of Abbott and Costello Meet the Killer, Boris Karloff. The on-screen title, though, is just Abbott and Costello Meet the Killer, with Karloff's name listed under the title as one of the film's stars.

Karloff as a suspect.

Abbott plays Casey, the house detective at the Lost Caverns Resort Hotel. It's a pretty easy job until a famous attorney registers as a guest and winds up murdered before he can unpack. The chief suspect is Casey's bellboy pal Freddie (Costello), who lost his job because of the attorney. There are plenty of other more likely killers, to include a hypnotist (Karloff) and a femme fatale named Angela (Lenore Aubert). To make matters worse, additional hotel guests start turning up as a corpses--which keep disappearing and reappearing in the most unlikely places.

There aren't a lot of new comic routines in Abbott and Costello Meet the Killer, but that hardly matters. Lou Costello was a comedy genius in terms of his timing, facial expressions, and voices. As for Bud Abbott, he was a perfect set-up man, always willing to let Lou get the laughs. Many comedy teams have performed the "moving body" gag, but A&C do it with a precision that deserves praise. They were--and are--truly underrated as comedians. 

Lou Costello and Lenore Aubert.

The duo's best films--which include Abbott and Costello Meet the Killer--feature solid plots with a bevy of one-liners. The scene with the most zingers is the one where Angela tries to convince Freddie to sign a confession.

Freddie (to Angela): Gee, you're pretty!

Angela: I bet you say that to all the girls.

Freddie: Yes, it don't go over so well with the boys.

Later, Angela pleads with Freddie to take a sip of champagne--which may be poisoned:

Angela: Just one teeny weeny sip...for little Angela.

Freddie:  I wouldn't drink it for big Angela.

Bud and Lou play bridge with corpses.

There are fine visual gags, too, such as Casey and Freddie (dressed as a hotel maid) playing bridge with a pair of corpses as Percy Helton's character flirts with Freddie. The climax in the caverns and Freddie trapped in a steam machine also generate some laughs. 

However, there are some missed opportunities, especially with Karloff. He only has one significant scene with Costello, in which the Swami tries to hypnotize Freddie into committing suicide. In fact, Boris Karloff is in very little of Abbott and Costello Meet the Killer, which is a shame. As he proved on stage in Arsenic and Old Lace and later in films like The Raven (1963), Boris could be very amusing.

As a follow-up to Abbott and Costello Meet Frankenstein, A&C Meet the Killer must have seemed disappointing when first released. It still turned a nice profit at the box office, though, and paved the way for additional monsters and mystery pairings with the Invisible Man, the Mummy, and Dr. Jekyll & Mr. Hyde (with Karloff again). In hindsight, A&C Meet the Killer is a tidy, above-average comedy-mystery and easily one of Bud and Lou's best films.

The Houses of Frankenstein and Dracula

The trailer promised a lot!

House of Frankenstein (1944). The inevitable follow-up to Frankenstein Meets the Wolf Man (1942) adds Count Dracula, a mad scientist, and a lovesick, hunchbacked assistant to the mix. The result is a somewhat clunky affair that still has its minor pleasures.

Boris Karloff stars as Dr. Gustav Niemann, a prison inmate obsessed with replicating Henry Frankenstein's life-creating experiments. When a thunderstorm causes the prison walls to crumble, Niemann and his cell mate, the hunchbacked Daniel, escape.

Carradine's Count Dracula.

They take over a traveling circus of horrors that features the skeleton of Count Dracula (John Carradine). During a fit of anger, Niemann unwisely withdraws a wooden stake from the skeleton and revives Dracula. Alas, the legendary vampire chooses the wrong young woman for a tasty snack and doesn't survive the night.

Niemann and Daniel (J. Carrol Naish) continue on to Visaria (known as Vasaria in the previous film), where they discover the Frankenstein Monster and the Wolf Man encased on ice. Naturally, they thaw out the monsters! Niemann promises to cure Larry Talbot (Lon Chaney, Jr.), although his real interest is in restoring the Frankenstein Monster (Glenn Strange) to full power.

J. Carrol Naish and Boris Karloff.

The biggest flaw with House of Frankenstein is that the monsters never interact--each one has its own separate storyline. It's like watching three mini-movies connected only by the presence of Niemann and Daniel. Karloff is fun as the mad scientist, but it's a pretty stereotypical role. Naish, on the other hand, turns in a surprisingly effective performance as the physically deformed assistant who loves a gypsy girl that's smitten with Talbot.

Given its "B" movie budget, House of Frankenstein is visually striking at times. That's not totally surprisingly given the pedigrees of cinematographer George Robinson and director Erle C. Kenton. Robinson also lensed the expressionistic Son of Frankenstein, which has been justly praised elsewhere in this blog. As for Kenton, he was a reliable journeyman director for Universal, specializing in Abbott & Costello comedies and "B" horror efforts. However, his resume also includes one of the most original horror films of the 1930s: Island of Lost Souls (1932).

Glenn Strange as the Monster.

House of Dracula (1944). Film critic Leslie Halliwell counts this immediate sequel among his favorite films in his book Halliwell's Hundred. However, there's a caveat: "It is a gem of ineptitude. Its badness lies in its extremely flat handling and in the fact that the writers were not allowed to transfer to the screen the fun they must have had in cooking up its absurd plot."

Chaney as the Wolf  Man.

Certainly, the story is an upgrade over House of Frankenstein with Count Dracula (Carradine) and Larry Talbot arriving at Dr. Edlemann's seaside castle in search of cures. Edlemann (Onslow Stevens), a caring man of science, agrees to help them. Unfortunately, Dracula becomes attracted to the nurse Miliza (Martha O'Driscoll) and can't overcome his vampire urges. During a transfusion with Edlemann, the Count reverses the flow of blood so he can remain a vampire. Unfortunately, that turns the scientist into a Jekyll-Hyde mad man.

Prior to this incident, Edlemann rescues Talbot, who has tried to commit suicide by leaping off a cliff. In a cave on the beach, the two men discover the dormant--but still living--Frankenstein Monster. Anyone one else would just leave the Monster there, but then we couldn't have a climax with torch-carrying villagers, could we?

Onslow Stevens as Dr. Edlemann.

I enjoy House of Dracula more than Mr. Halliwell. It's far from a good movie, but there are some original ideas (e.g., the fate of Talbot). Plus, it provides long-time character actor Onslow Stevens with his best role. He's quite entertaining as the staid man of science who transforms into a wild-eyed killer.

House of Dracula would turn out to be the final "serious" film in Universal's original horror film cycle that started with Dracula in 1931. Its monsters would next appear opposite Bud and Lou in Abbott and Costello Meet Frankenstein.

The Beach Party Series Comes to a Sad End with "The Ghost in the Invisible Bikini"

This was not the film's original title.

As visitors to this blog know, we are Beach Party proponents, Annette admirers, and Frankie aficionados. Yes, we like our BP movies, but what is one to make of the last--and least--entry in American International's seven-film series? Frankie and Annette are nowhere to be seen. Other prominent series regulars that are also missing include Candy Johnson, Donna Loren, John Ashley, and, most notably, Jody McCrea (Bonehead/Deadhead). Even William Asher, who directed five of the series' entries, opted to avoid this outing (he had shifted his focus to his then-wife's TV series Bewitched).

In the closing credits of 1965's Dr. Goldfoot and the Bikini Machine, AIP announced that Annette Funicello, Deborah Walley, Harvey Lembeck, and Aron Kinkaid "would soon appear in The Girl in the Glass Bikini" (we'll address the title change later). However, by the time production commenced, Annette was no longer attached to the project. Deborah Walley became the female lead and Tommy Kirk, who had previously appeared in Pajama Party, was cast as her co-star.

Kirk and Walley hold hands for a seance.

The plot sends Chuck Philips (Kirk), Lili Morton (Walley), and the older Myrtle Forbush (Patsy Kelly) to the recently-deceased Hiram Stokely's creepy mansion. The trio are the rightful heirs to Hiram's estate, which includes a large sum of money hidden in the house. The dead man's lawyer, Reginald Ripper (Basil Rathbone), wants to swindle them out of their inheritance. Meanwhile, Myrtle's partying nephew Bobby (Kinkaid) shows up at the estate--as does motorcycle gang leader Eric Von Zipper (accompanied by the Ratz and Mice) and J. Sinister Hulk (Jesse White reprising his role from Pajama Party).

Karloff was too ill to stand.

When the completed film, now titled Bikini Party in a Haunted House, was screened for AIP heads James Nicholson and Samuel Z. Arkoff, they deemed it a disaster. Nicholson came up with the idea to add a subplot in which Hiram's ghost (Boris Karloff) has to perform a good deed to get into heaven. A bikini-clad Susan Hart (who had recently married James Nicholson) was also inserted in the proceedings and the movie was retitled The Ghost in the Invisible Bikini. Unfortunately, the title change meant a big production number called "Bikini Party in a Haunted House"--featuring Aron Kinkaid and Danny Thomas protegee Piccolo Pupa on lead vocals--had to be jettisoned.

Still, the remaining songs penned by Beach Party veterans Guy Hemric and Jerry Styner are quite listenable. Nancy Sinatra does an energetic poolside rendition of "Geronimo" while the Bobby Fuller Four serves as the film's "house band." Piccolo Pupa (that was not her real name) sings lead on "Stand Up and Fight." The Italian performer never achieved success in the U.S. despite three appearances on The Danny Thomas Show and a gig on Shindig! 

Nancy Sinatra sings "Geronimo" and Piccolo Pupa dances.

The saddest part of The Ghost in the Invisible Bikini is watching a fine cast being wasted. Karloff, Rathbone, and Francis X. Bushman were all in the twilight of their careers (and Boris was quite ill). It's painful to watch these classic era stars struggle with horrible material. Just two years earlier, Karloff and Rathbone had an opportunity to show off their comedic skills in Richard Matheson's funny The Comedy of Terrors.

Quinn O'Hara as Sinistra.

It's equally frustrating to see Beach Party veterans like Harvey  Lembeck and Bobbi Shaw forced to recycle old gags. Indeed, the only cast member that escapes unscathed is Quinn O'Hara. She's pretty funny as Sinistra, Rathbone's statuesque, but blind-without-her-glasses, daughter who keeps trying to kill Kinkaid's character.

After The Ghost in the Invisible Bikini crashed at the boxoffice, American  International Pictures concentrated on biker and horror flicks (the latter was always one of the company's staples). The Beach Party series, which had started off with such promise in 1963, had lasted just four years and produced only seven films (if you don't count Ski Party). It would take a few decades for their simple nostalgia and memorable music to become fully appreciated. But these days, I can safely say I am not alone in my affection for such drive-in classics as Beach Blanket Bingo and Muscle Beach Party.


This review is part of the Beach Party Blogathon hosted by Silver Screenings and Speakeasy. Click here to view the full schedule of awesome beachy posts!

Is "Son of Frankenstein" the Best of Universal's Series?

Boris Karloff in Son of Frankenstein.

The general consensus among film critics and classic movie fans is that Bride of Frankenstein (1935) is the high point of Universal's Frankenstein series. It's also widely heralded as one of the finest horror films (TIME Magazine even ranked it as one of the 100 greatest films of all time in 2005). While I'm definitely a Bride fan, I hate that its reputation overshadows the series' next installment, 1939's Son of Frankenstein. I think it's as good--if not better--than Bride of Frankenstein.

The film opens with Wolf von Frankenstein and his family aboard a train heading for the town of Frankenstein as a horrendous thunderstorm rages across the landscape. Although there are local officials and villagers waiting at the train station, the family gets a cold reception (the burgomaster states flatly: "We are here to meet you, not to greet you."). Memories of the Frankenstein Monster's wrath still cast a dark shadow on a village that is "forsaken, desolate, and shunned by every traveler."

Ygor and friend.

Among the documents left by his father, Wolf (Basil Rathbone) finds Henry Frankenstein's records detailing how he discovered the source of life. When exploring his father's laboratory, Wolf finds the Monster--who lives, but in a comatose state. The shepherd Ygor (Bela Lugosi) tells Frankenstein that the Monster (Boris Karloff) survived the explosion at the end of Bride of Frankenstein. He implies that the Monster cannot be destroyed ("Your father made him for always"). However, while "hunting" one night, the Monster was struck by lightning and now lies almost lifeless on a slab. Wolf, who has already become obsessed with his father's work, sees restoring the Monster as a way to vindicate the family name. Of course, Ygor has other plans for the Monster....

The prevalent theme in Son of Frankenstein revolves around family. Wolf's actions are driven in large part by his desire to prove his father was a great scientist, not a mad one. When he finds the words "Maker of Monsters" etched on his father's casket, he changes "Monsters" to "Men." Another familial connection is the one between the Monster and Ygor. This is a carryover from the brief friendship between the Monster and the blind hermit from Bride of Frankenstein--only Ygor's motives are far from altruistic. Then, there's Wolf's temporary disinterest in the welfare of his own family, which almost results in his young son's death. And finally, there's the most intriguing family connection of all: Ygor notes that Wolf and the Monster are "brothers" since they shared the same father (but the Monster's "mother" was electricity!).

Bela Lugosi as Ygor.

Willis (aka Wyllis) Cooper, a radio producer, wrote the original screenplay. However, according to many sources, director Rowland V. Lee rewrote much of it during the production. That partially accounted for the film's original budget ballooning from $300,000 to $420,000. Despite the manner in which the script was developed, it contains many juicy bits of dialogue. My favorite may be Ygor's response to Frankenstein on why he was hanged: "Because I stole bodies...they said."

The picture gets a huge boost from a number of outstanding performances. Lionel Atwill's one-armed police inspector has a chilling scene in which he describes his encounter with the Monster as a boy ("One doesn't easily forget, Herr Baron, an arm torn out by the roots."). Atwill would appear in four more Frankenstein films, playing inspectors in House of Frankenstein and House of Dracula. While Boris Karloff has no dialogue in this outing, he nonethless instills the Monster with very human emotions. While more of a killer than in the previous films, he elicits sympathy in two key scenes: as he stands in front of a mirror, disgusted with his appearance, and compares himself to Wolf and when he lets out a cry of anguish after finding Ygor's body. As for Basil Rathbone, while he has been accused of overacting as Wolf, I thought his manic performance was perfect for the part. He was certainly more subdued than Colin Clive in Frankenstein and Bride of Frankenstein.

The Monster compares himself to Wolf von Frankenstein.

That leaves Bela Lugosi, who gives the best performance of his career. True, Ygor is a meaty role--but Lugosi attacks it with glee. He can be subtle, too, as in a brilliant scene in which he reminds Wolf that the Monster will do whatever Ygor tells him. Sadly, Lugosi reprised the role to less effect in 1942's The Ghost of Frankenstein, which, unlike its predecessors, was strictly a "B" film.

One of Otterson's distorted sets.

From a technical standpoint, Son of Frankenstein reflects the work of highly skilled craftsmen. Jack Otterson's brilliant, warped sets enhance the film's feeling of dread. His set design, combined with director Lee's bold use of light and shadows, pre-dates some of the techniques popularized in later film noirs. Although Otterson didn't receive an Oscar nomination for Son of Frankenstein, he was nominated--every year--from 1937 to 1943. Likewise, composer Frank Skinner was ignored for his memorable score, but was also nominated five times from 1939 to 1944. His Son of Frankenstein score was popular enough to be recycled in numerous other Universal films.

If I haven't convinced you yet of the virtues of Son of Frankenstein, let me leave you with this assessment from Universal Horrors: "Grandiose in scope, magnificent in design, it supplanted the quaint romanticism and delicate fantasy flavoring of Bride of Frankenstein with a stark, grimly expressionistic approach to horror." Well said.

Boris Karloff--Detective

Boris Karloff as Mr. Wong.

Let me start by addressing the most uncomfortable aspect of the Mr. Wong movies produced by Monogram Pictures from 1938 to 1940. Mr. Wong, who is Chinese, is played by Boris Karloff, a British actor, in five of the six films. This was neither the first nor the last time that a non-Oriental actor starred as an Oriental detective. There are numerous other instances. Swedish actor Warner Oland made a fine Charlie Chan in the 1930s. Hungarian Peter Lorre starred as Japanese detective Mr. Moto in a film series for Twentieth Century-Fox. Decades later, Ross Martin (The Wild, Wild West) and even Peter Sellers also appeared as Charlie Chan.

Karloff as Fu Manchu.

To his credit, Karloff does not try to impersonate a person of Chinese descent. He speaks deliberately, but there is no trace of an accent. His hair is dyed black and slicked down. He sports a mustache (which changes shape slightly from film to film) and sometimes glasses. He looks a little Oriental—if one knows that was the intended effect. It’s a stark contrast to his appearance as the title villain of 1932’s The Mask of Fu Manchu.

Karloff made his first appearance as James Wong in Mr. Wong, Detective (1938). It’s an average “B” mystery in which the owners of a chemical company are murdered one by one. The prime suspect is a disgruntled inventor, who claims the company stole a valuable formula. However, as witnesses can testify, the inventor was somewhere else when each death occurred. The best part of the film is the ingenious way in which the murders are accomplished. All in all, it’s a decent introduction to Mr. Wong.

A death threat for the sapphire's new owner.

The first sequel, The Mystery of Mr. Wong (1939), is an upgrade. It’s an entertaining whodunit involving a stolen sapphire (the Eye of the Daughter of Moon—gotta love the name!) and another clever murder. This time, Wong is present when a homicide occurs in front of party guests, who are watching their hosts reenact a scene from a play. When a character is shot in the play—the person playing the character is really shot. The film features a brisk pace and veteran director Williams Nigh achieves some nice visual effects with framing and lighting.

Marjorie Reynolds.

Alas, the second Mr. Wong film is the series highlight. The third entry, Mr. Wong in Chinatown, is a lackluster, sluggish affair. Amazingly, the plot was recycled nine years later for the Charlie Chan film The Chinese Ring starring Roland Winters. In Mr. Wong in Chinatown, Marjorie Reynolds (Holiday Inn) joins Grant Withers as a series regular. Withers’ police Captain Sam Street continues to come across as thickheaded and dull while Reynolds overplays the energetic reporter trying to get a big scoop. Neither one adds any value to this film nor subsequent outings, leaving it up to Karloff to carry the Mr. Wong mysteries by himself.

He’s up to the task, though one wishes that Wong was more interesting. He lacks Charlie Chan’s memorable proverbs and Mr. Moto’s judo. Hugh Wiley created the Yale-educated Chinese sleuth for Collier’s magazine in 1934. James Lee Wong lived in San Francisco and worked on the “federal pay rolls.” He appeared in twelve short stories, which were republished in the 1951 collection Murder By the Dozen.

Keye Luke as Jimmy Wong.

After five Mr. Wong films, Karloff bowed out of the series and was replaced by Keye Luke as Jimmy Wong in Phantom of Chinatown (1940). Although some critics suggest Luke is playing James Wong’s son, the film seems more like a reboot. The affable Key Luke does well enough in his first lead role after playing Charlie Chan’s son opposite Warner Oland. Although Luke was signed for additional Mr. Wong films, the series came to an abrupt end. Still, Phantom of Chinatown was something of a landmark—Keye Luke became the first Chinese actor since the silent film era to headline a Hollywood film.

Boris Karloff Hosts a Thriller

In his 1981 history of horror fiction Danse Macabre, Stephen King dubs Thriller "probably the best horror series ever put on TV." It's still hard to argue with King's assessment. While this 1960-62 anthology series was inconsistent, it boasted some of the most chilling content ever broadcast on television. Ironically, that--combined with its one-hour length and short run--may explain why it never achieved lasting popularity along the lines of The Twilight Zone and Alfred Hitchcock Presents. Simply put, episodes like the classic "Pigeons from Hell" (which featured a "zuvembie" and a hatchet murder) aren't everyone's cup of tea.

Don't let Miss DeVore (Patricia Barry)
remove her wig!

Thriller was created by Hubbell Robinson, a television pioneer who served as executive producer of CBS's prestigious anthology series Playhouse 90. According to the book Fantastic Television, Robinson sold Thriller to NBC without a pilot and based on a vague description. From the beginning, Robinson and his producers disagreed about the direction of the series. Unlike The Twilight Zone and Alfred Hitchcock Presents, Thriller lacked a strong vision and its initial ratings were soft. Fantastic Television includes this enlightening Robinson assessment: "The show simply did not have time to find its identity."

Veteran producers Maxwell Shane and William Frye were brought in to salvage the show. At the same time, the series' scope was narrowed to suspenseful crime stories (produced by Shane) and horror tales (Frye). Although Thriller fared better with critics and viewers, it was still a show with a split personality. One never knew what to expect on a given week: an episode about a botched kidnapping scheme or a scary yarn about a wig that turns its wearer into a vengeful killer.

Henry Daniell in "Well of Doom."

In retrospect, the show's reputation rests almost exclusively on the horror episodes--many of which are still hailed as genre classics. The aforementioned "Pigeons from Hell," adapted from a Robert E. Howard (Conan the Barbarian) story, is a contemporary Gothic tale about two brothers who encounter a zombie-like, murderous creature in a decayed Southern mansion. In "The Cheaters," a pair of unusual glasses reveals different things to its various owners--but the result is always bad for everyone involved. The title hairpiece in a "A Wig for Miss DeVore" was once worn by a vengeful witch burned at the stake. It restores youth to a washed-up actress--who unfortunately transforms into a nasty-looking killer whenever the wig is removed. And, in a personal favorite, the densely-atmospheric Well of Doom, a man and his fiancee are imprisoned in a dungeon by mysterious strangers that may possess supernatural powers. The stellar cast features Henry Daniell (looking like Lon Chaney in London After Midnight) and Richard Kiel (Jaws in two Bond films) as the villains.

John Williams in "Yours Truly,
Jack the Ripper."

While I agree that the crime episodes are not as engrossing overall, there are notable exceptions. Stand-up comic Mort Sahl gives a good dramatic performance as a none-too-bright joe who overhears a kidnapping plot in Man in the Middle. His unconventional solution: Kidnap the heiress first. In The Twisted Image, married businessman Leslie Nielsen becomes the target of an obsessed younger woman. And in another fave, "Yours Truly, Jack the Ripper," John Williams (a Hitchcock semi-regular) portrays an expert engaged by the Washington, D.C. police to help apprehend a Ripper-like murderer. Or is the murderer actually Jack the Ripper himself, who has used black magic rituals to defy ageing? This episode was based on a short story by Robert Bloch, who also penned teleplays for Thriller (and wrote the source novel for Hitchcock's Psycho). Interestingly, Block revamped his Jack the Ripper short story a few years later as the Star Trek episode "Wolf in the Fold."

Boris Karloff served as host of Thriller. It was not his first TV series, that distinction belonging to the 1954-55 British program Colonel March of Scotland Yard. Karloff, whose career was fading in the 1950s, gained fame anew when his Universal monster films were released to television, starting in 1957. By 1960, his name was synonymous with horror and he brought instant recognition to Thriller. Alas, his introductions weren't always well-written and often add little to the show. They lack the dark humor of Hitch's introductions on Alfred Hitchcock Presents and the poetic fate of Serling's Twilight Zone narratives.

Thriller composers Pete Rugolo and Jerry Goldsmith earned a well-deserved Emmy nomination in 1961 for Outstanding Achievement in the Field of Music. Rugolo, who wrote the jazzy Thriller opening theme, is perhaps best remembered for his work on The Fugitive. Goldsmith, of course, went on to a long, highly successful career as a film composer. Morton Stevens, another Thriller composer, later wrote one of the famous of all TV series themes: Hawaii Five-O.

To learn more about Thriller, I recommend checking out the entertaining blog A Thriller a Day... and Alan Warren's book This Is a Thriller. You can watch Thriller on MeTV; the complete series is also available in a boxed set from Image Entertainment.


This post is of part of The Summer of MeTV Classic TV Blogathon, hosted by the Classic TV Blog Association. Click here to view all the other great blogathon entries.

The Black Cat (1934)

Without a doubt the most unusual horror film to come out of Hollywood in the 1930s was Universal Studio's’ The Black Cat (1934). How does one go about creating such a unique film? You take two renowned horror stars (Dracula himself, Bela Lugosi, and Frankenstein’s monster, Boris Karloff—in the first of seven films they would appear in together), add a dash of a director (Edgar G. Ulmer) heavily influenced by German expressionism, and then you mix in some strange amalgamation of Edgar Allan Poe’s “The Black Cat” and “The Fall of the House of Usher” with necrophilia and satanism, and , finally, you top it off with an an eye-catching art deco set design by Charles D. Hall. Never mind that the story is difficult to understand (Universal ordered massive changes to the original cut due to its risqué plot),this is just too bizarre a film to miss.

Predating The Rocky Horror Picture Show (1975) by more than 40-years, The Black Cat finds two young lovers caught in the middle of a sadistic chess match between a mad architect/scientist and a depressed doctor. Dr. Vitus Werdegast (Lugosi) is returning home to Vizhegrad (Hungary) after spending the last 15 years in a Russian prison camp (Kurgaal). On the Orient Express (no Poirot doesn’t show up), Dr. Werdegast meets Joan (Jacqueline Wells) and Peter (David Manners) and immediately notices that Joan looks a lot like his lost wife. He tells them that he is on his way to visit an old friend, famed architect Hjalmar Poelzig (Karloff), at his mansion, which just happens to be built on a cliff overlooking the “greatest graveyard in the world” at Fort Marmorus. Really? Could there be a more ominous setting?

Later, when the bus they are travelling on crashes into a ravine, Joan is injured and it is determined that the couple should accompany Dr. Werdegast and his servant Thamal (Harry Cording) to the mansion. And this brings us to the best part of the film—the set design of Poelzig’s digs. Everything is ultra-modern, from the lighting (entire walls light up) to the super-sleek curved staircase.  Photographer John J. Mescall uses every inch of the set design and beyond-clever lighting to create some outstanding visual elements—you have to see it to truly appreciate it.

In a rather strange poke at Dracula (and Lugosi?), Poelzig is first introduced to the audience rising rigidly from his bed.  With a widow’s peak and dramatic sense of style (he wears a priest’s robe), Poelzig looks like the kind of man who would commune with the devil. It soon becomes apparent that Werdegast and Poelzig aren’t really BFF’s. Evidently Poelzig betrayed his countrymen in WWI and ran off when the Russians came. What Werdegast really wants is to find his wife (Karen) and daughter, and he thinks Poelzig might know where they are. Well, yeah, he does—he married Karen after telling her Werdegast was dead. Ah, the plot thickens…

As if this news wasn’t enough, Werdegast must deal with a reappearing black cat. For a normal person this wouldn’t be a big deal, but Werdegast is deathly afraid of them—did I mention he’s a psychiatrist…yeah, you’d think he could engage in some self-analysis to overcome this fear. Nope…instead he chooses to regard them as, and I quote, “the living embodiment of evil.” Ah, Werdegast, there are eviler things in the world—just ask Poelzig, who has a cellar full of dead women encased in glass. One of these women happens to be Karen (Lucille Lund) and when Poelzig reintroduces the “couple” it is not a happy time. Werdegast attempts to shoot Poelzig, but before he can pull the trigger another black cat saunters in and immobilizes the doctor.

Later, we learn that the doctor’s daughter, Karen (Lucille Lund…yeah, just go with it) is now Poelzig’s wife…a secret he chooses to keep from the doctor. One secret he doesn’t have a problem sharing, though, is that he plans to use Joan in a satanic black mass ritual. Of course, he is willing to challenge the doctor to a game of chess for Joan’s soul. Too bad for Joan that the doctor isn’t Bobby Fisher… Ah, and so let the Bach toccatas begin—really, Poelzig plays them on his creepy organ right before he kills Karen for sassing him. And, then the fun really begins!

Although it isn’t Halloween, Poelzig decides to host a satanic cult party at the fortress and Joan is the guest of honor. Organ music, broken Latin, black-tie attire, and a human sacrifice as the ultimate party game—who’d want to miss out on that! Well, Joan for one…I won’t spoil the ending for you, but lets just say it is a blast.

Unique in every sense, The Black Cat is high camp without being a camp film (is that possible?). Lugosi and Karloff play well off one another, but I wasn’t shocked to learn that neither received an Academy Award nomination for their performances in this film.  Still, I was a bit miffed that neither Charles D. Hall or John J. Mescall were recognized for their outstanding set design and photography.

Route 66: Lizard's Leg and Owlet's Wing

The Route 66 "Halloween episode" was originally broadcast on October 26, 1962 during the show's third season. By then, Route 66 had lost some of the edge that made it one of the best television dramas of the early 1960s. Of course, it's clear that neither writer Stirling Silliphant nor the splendid guest cast intended "Lizard's Leg and Owlet's Wing" to be anything other than a lark. On that level, it's a modest success and all the participants seem to be having a grand time.

Buz and Tod oggling the girls.

The episode features two plotlines which eventually intersect (somewhat awkwardly). Series regulars Tod (Martin Milner) and Buz (George Maharis) land a job at Chicago's O'Hare Inn as "junior executives in charge of convention liaison." By virtue of a coin toss, Buz gets the plum assignment of supporting the secretaries' convention--which is like placing a wolf among the lambs. The incredibly bummed Tod ends up as liaison to the Gerenuk Society.

Tod learns that this mysterious "society" is a front for actors Boris Karloff, Peter Lorre, and Lon Chaney, Jr. (plus Martita Hunt from Brides of Dracula as their legal advisor). Lorre wants to make new horror films, but in the same vein as the old classics. Boris thinks that won't sell anymore and that they need to focus on contemporary horror. (Lorre explans to Tod that a "gerenuk" is an endangered species of antelope...thus drawing a parallel to the old horror stars.)

Meanwhile, Buz pursues one of the secretaries, only to learn that she's smitten with her former boss. In a weak plot development, Boris befriends the lovesick secretary and solves her romantic problems. Apparently, when Boris Karloff (the actors all play themselves) calls you on the phone, you listen!

Her reaction: "You look exhausted!"

There's a sloppiness to the whole episode, but there are minor delights along the way. Chaney has some very amusing scenes, especially when he's trying to frighten the lovelorn secretary while she appears oblivious to his Wolf Man makeup and ferocious growls. It makes one wonder why Chaney didn't try his hand at a horror comedy (a good one...not Hillbillys in a Haunted House). The highlight of "Lizard's Leg and Owlet's Wing" is the opportunity to see Karloff in makeup as the Frankenstein Monster for the first time since 1939's Son of Frankenstein. It's also fun to see Lon as the Mummy and Hunchback (with makeup similar to his father) as well as the Wolf Man.

If you're looking for a great Route 66 episode, this is not it. On the other hand, if you're a fan of the guest stars, you won't want to miss this lighthearted ode to their roles of the past.

31 Days of Halloween: Rankin-Bass Invites You to a Mad Monster Party

This Cafe special was written by Gilby37; the Rankin/Bass images were provided by Rick Goldschmidt.

Every December new generations of fans discover Rankin-Bass classics on TV. ABC Family Channel devotes many hours of programming to their productions. It is easy to find numerous Christmas favorites produced by Rankin-Bass such as: Rudolph, the Red Nosed Reindeer; Santa Claus is Comin’ to Town; The Year Without a Santa Claus; and Frosty the Snowman to name a few. However, I’ve always loved their tribute to the horror genre: Mad Monster Party.

I remember watching this “Animagic” movie every time it aired on TV when I was a kid. Rankin-Bass animated productions often used this stop-motion process where the characters visually seemed doll-like. The life-like aspect of the characters fascinated me. Although I was told I was watching a “cartoon,” the characters were so alive. In my opinion, Mad Monster Party would not have been as delightful had this process not been used. It was filled with some of the most interesting figures of vintage Hollywood horror and used a clever plot device gather these icons.

The Baron von Frankenstein (voiced by Boris Karloff) has decided to retire. He has at long last perfected his secret potion--one that can completely destroy any matter it touches. The Baron realizes he has discovered how to control the two most important forces on the planet: life and death. He decides to share the success of this new potion with all of the other members of the monster community. What’s the best way to do this? The Baron decides to hold a party at the Frankenstein Castle. He will not only tell the others about his discovery, but also his decision to retire as their leader. The Baron also plans to name his nephew Felix Flankin as his successor. Felix is the son of Von Frankenstein’s sister, “the white sheep of the family.”

Who are the members of Von Frankenstein’s Monster Coalition? They are Dracula, Frankenstein’s Monster, the Monster’s Mate, The Hunchback of Notre Dame, Werewolf, The Invisible Man, Dr. Jekyll & Mr. Hyde, The Creature (from the Black Lagoon) and It. However, the Baron decides not to invite It because of his behavior last time they gathered. Helping Von Frankenstein to organize this party is the gorgeous Francesca. She is his “assistant,” and according to him, his most beautiful creation. When Francesca finds out the Baron is leaving all of his secrets and power to Felix, she plots to destroy the young man. As the story unfolds, none of the monsters are happy about Von Frankenstein’s decision. Various alliances form to grab the power and get the Baron’s secret potion. They not only want Felix out of the picture, but some monsters see this as a chance to get rid of other monster rivals.

I purchased this film on DVD earlier this year because I loved it so much as a child. I must admit that I was apprehensive. Sometimes, what we loved so much when we were young disappoints us when we watch it as adults. I am happy to say that was not the case with Mad Monster Party. In fact, as an adult and as a classic movie fan, I found more to enjoy.

First, Rankin-Bass productions always use the persona/image of the famous voice actors who star in their films. Remember how the mailman in Santa Claus is Comin’ to Town looked and danced just like Fred Astaire? In the story, Von Frankenstein is easily identifiable as Karloff. The other famous star in this piece was Phyllis Diller as the Monster’s Mate. One look at this character, white unkempt hair and long narrow chin, confirms Diller’s presence. Would Phyllis Diller’s signature laugh have been evident in a regular cartoon? Yes. However, the puppet version of this comedienne was so perfect you’d swear you were watching her at a Dean Martin Roast.

Second, I was awed at how Old Hollywood in general was honored in this movie. Felix was the “boy scout” of the story and his voice sounded like everyone’s favorite good guy, Jimmy Stewart. In fact, when we first meet Felix he is working in a drug store (just like George Bailey). Francesca had that drop dead Gina Lollobrigida figure and sexy look. The Baron’s henchman, Yetch, looked and sounded exactly like Peter Lorre. The Invisible Man was given a fez and seemed a little rotund. No wonder, when he spoke, he sounded just like Sydney Greenstreet of Casablanca fame (and you’ll recall he did wear a fez in that classic). Finally, when It crashes the party he bears a striking resemblance to King Kong. The climax of this film will take you back to the climax of the Fay Wray classic.

I hope this article will encourage every film lover to add Mad Monster Party to his/her list of must-sees during the Halloween season.