The Phantoms of the Opera

Claude Rains as the Phantom.

Just eleven years after Lon Chaney thrilled audiences in The Phantom of the Opera (1925), Universal was planning a remake. However, it wasn’t until 1941 that the production got the green light for a Technicolor extravaganza. Studio executives wanted Deanna Durbin as the female star and considered Charles Laughton as the Phantom. In the end, those parts went to 18-year-old Susanna Foster (a virtual unknown) and the inimitable Claude Rains.

The screenwriters jettisoned the plots of both Gaston Leroux’s 1910 novel and Chaney’s classic. The new plot cast Rains as Erique Claudin, a violinist in the Paris Opera’s orchestra. When a health condition with his left hand impairs his playing, he is dismissed from the orchestra after 20 years. He has no savings, for he has used all his money to secretly pay for voice lessons for a promising soprano named Christine (Foster). He hopes to improve his finances through the publication of a concerto.

Susanna Foster as Christine.

However, due to a most unfortunate misunderstanding, he believes the publication house has stolen his work and, in a fit of rage, he murders one of its employees. In the process, another worker flings a pan of acid in his face. Screaming in agony, Claudin runs into the dark streets and finds refuge in the catacombs underneath the opera house. He eventually adopts the persona of the Phantom and dedicates himself to ensuring that Christine becomes the opera house’s newest star.

For a studio known for its thriftiness, Universal went all in on Phantom of the Opera and the visual treats are plentiful. It's no wonder that Phantom won Oscars for its color cinematography and set decoration. The elaborate opera house set used in Chaney's film was refurbished and still looks impressive. The famous chandelier, though, is not the same one from the earlier film (that one was destroyed). This time around, the chandelier was dropped with a wire to prevent it from crashing onto the floor. Then, it was painstakingly disassembled to look like it was smashed.

The Paris Opera House set and chandelier.

Claude Rains insisted that his face not be totally scarred and that the mask only partially cover his feature. The latter decision works well, since it allows Rains to at least act with his mouth when playing the Phantom. (And yes, Rains was good enough an actor to convey emotion with his mouth alone.)

Yet, while Rains gives his usual first-rate performance and Phantom impresses from a technical standpoint, it lacks verve. It's more of a musical than a horror film and the opera set pieces drag down the pace even at 93 minutes. The other problem is that the Phantom is really a nice guy that becomes an outcast through unusual circumstances. The audience sympathizes with Claudin--we're never afraid of him.

Nevertheless, The Phantom of the Opera was a big boxoffice hit and Universal announced a sequel within weeks of its release. It was to reteam Susanna Foster, Claude Rains, and Nelson Eddy. Unfortunately, the stars' schedules couldn't be aligned and so Universal paired Foster with Boris Karloff in The Climax (1944), another horror picture with an opera setting.

Herbert Lom as the Phantom.

In 1962, Hammer Films, having successfully revived Dracula, Dr. Frankenstein, and the Mummy, decided to mount its own version of The Phantom of the Opera. According to producer-writer Anthony Hinds, Cary Grant was briefly interested in starring it (though there are various stories about which role). In lieu of Hammer favorites Christopher Lee or Peter Cushing, the studio settled on Herbert Lom as the title character.

The Hammer version follows the same basic plot as the 1943 film, but with some notable differences. The Phantom's origin is revealed in flashback late in the movie so the story unfolds like a mystery. The Phantom has a silent assistant who does his bidding, which includes murdering an innocent stagehand and a rat catcher. And, best of all, there is also a true villain in the guise of a lecherous, greedy opera impresario played with gusto by Michael Gough.

Michael Gough and Heather Sears.

The Hammer remake also dispenses with the famous scene in which Christine snatches the Phantom's mask. Instead, with the chandelier about to fall and crush Christine, the Phantom rips off his mask and swings on a rope from a balcony to push his protege out of the way.

Speaking of the mask, it completely covers Lom's face, except for one eye. It's a credit to the actor that he's able to create a memorable character essentially with his voice. Indeed, Lom is quite effective and gets strong support from Heather Sears as Christine (her singing voice was dubbed).

Although not as opulent as Universal's 1943 version, this Phantom may be the better of the two movies. At least, it strives to be a horror film and does not let the music take over the proceedings. It was nonetheless a boxoffice disappointment. When it appeared on U.S. television several years later, Universal (not Hammer) shot additional footage so it was long enough to run in a two-hour time slot.

Irwin Allen's The Lost World

A dinosaur gets his veggies.

One of my favorite movies as a kid was this 1960 popcorn movie based on the adventure novel by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. A recent viewing (it's available on Amazon Prime) revealed that The Lost World is less enthralling to the adult me. While that was a somewhat disappointing revelation, I stand by my youthful memories to the extent that I can see its appeal to younger audiences. Plus, it's still a lively affair with a good cast and some nice special effects.

Claude Rains as Challenger.

As with similar fantasy adventures (e.g., Journey to the Center of the Earth), the first third of the plot is devoted to preparing for the expedition. This particular trek leads to a plateau in the Amazon where dinosaurs still roam. The intrepid explorers consist of: Professor Challenger (Claude Rains); a skeptical fellow scientist (Richard Haydn); big game hunter Lord John Roxton (Michael Rennie); journalist Ed Malone (David Hedison); a helicopter pilot (Fernando Lamas); and socialite Jennifer Holmes (Jill St. John) and her Poodle Frosty. (There's also an expendable, greedy guide and Jennifer's brother).

Shortly after the group's landing on the plateau, their helicopter is destroyed by a clumsy dinosaur. Still, getting back to civilization isn't the worst of their problems. There are also giant spiders, cannibals, a volcano on the verge of erupting, a revenge subplot, and the ominously-named "Cave of Fire" (think thin ledges and molten lava).

David Hedison and a pesky dino in the Cave of Fire.

As with 20th Century-Fox's superior Journey to the Center of the Earth (1959), live lizards are substituted for the dinosaurs. Naturally, these creatures can never capture the magic of the imaginative stop-motion creatures created by Willis O'Brien and Ray Harryhausen in, respectively, King Kong (1933) and The Valley of Gwangi (1969). Still, the special effects, courtesy of Fox's resident expert L.B. Abbott, look convincing enough.

Jill St. John and Hedison.

It's the humans that keep The Lost World from being a better movie. Jill St. John is saddled with a silly character that wears pink pants, a pink belt, and pink boots...in the jungle. Even worse, she personifies the extraneous female added to an action movie simply to broaden its appeal. One can understand Challenger's frustrations with her, but his snippy remarks make him sound like a chauvinist pig. Michael Rennie and Fernando Lamas do what they can with their underwritten parts, while David Hedison comes off best as the film's de facto hero.

Ever-resourceful producer Irwin Allen recycled footage from The Lost World in a first-season episode of his TV series Voyage to the Bottom of the Sea (1964-68) entitled "Turn Back the Clock."  Since David Hedison also starred in Voyage, it worked amazingly well. (For the record, Allen also recycled the plot and footage from his 1961 theatrical film Voyage to the Bottom of the Sea in a second season episode.)

A scene from the 1925 version.

According to some sources, Willis O'Brien sketched out sequences for The Lost World, which were never used due to budget constraints. Thirty-five years earlier, O'Brien did the special effects for a silent adaptation of Doyle's novel. Its climax featured a Brontosaurus destroying London--an undoubtedly expensive scene which doesn't appear in the 1960 version.

Doyle's book has served as the basis for several subsequent movies. A 1999 made-for-TV film doubled as the pilot for an Australian TV series based on The Lost World. The resulting series strayed mightily from the book, but retained the characters and was quite entertaining in its own way.

Snack-sized Reviews: "The Mark" and "Twilight of Honor"

Stuart Whitman in The Mark.

The Mark (1961) - This well-made Irish film tackles a controversial subject with restraint and intelligence. Stuart Whitman plays an American named Jim Fuller, who has been recently released from prison. His psychiatrist (Rod Steiger), his boss (Donald Wolfit), and the local police are the only people that know the nature of Whitman's crime: He plead guilty to child seduction with intent to assault. Although he has been deemed cured, Fuller struggles to fit into society and lead a "normal" existence. His daily challenges are complicated by a disturbingly maternal landlady (Brenda de Banzie) and a mutual attraction with a co-worker named Ruth (Maria Schell). She knows that Jim is a former convict, but she doesn't know the nature of his crime. She also has a young daughter who forms an instant bond with Jim. For most of its running time, The Mark is a potent film that shows both Jim's struggles and the general public's fear that arises when his secret is revealed. In one of its best scenes, the police pick up Jim with no explanation. He waits in agony for two hours, not knowing why he is being detained. When he's finally released, Jim learns that a young girl was assaulted and murdered...and naturally, the police suspected him until his alibi could be verified. Stuart Whitman shines as Fuller, his face conveying a tormented man who doesn't believe he deserves happiness. The performance earned Whitman a Best Actor Oscar nomination (he lost to Maria Schell's brother Maximillian, who won for Judgment at Nuremberg). My only quibble with The Mark is that it ultimately plays it safe. The ending doesn't ring true and I also wonder how audiences would react to the film if Fuller had really been a child molester.

Chamberlain and Heatherton.

Twilight of Honor (1963) - At the height of his Dr. Kildare fame, Richard Chamberlain starred in this courtroom drama set in New Mexico. He plays David Mitchell, a young lawyer assigned to defend a drifter (Nick Adams) who allegedly murdered the most popular man in town. David quickly learns that the defendant is all but convicted. The judge refuses to change the venue, an ambitious special prosecutor (James Gregory) has been called in, and the defendant's promiscuous wife (Joey Heatherton) wants to collect the reward for turning her husband in. Assisted by his legal mentor (Claude Rains), David bases his defense on an obscure New Mexico law (though, as it turns out, good ol' self-defense might have worked, too). A poor man's Anatomy of a Murder, Twilight of Honor is a reasonably entertaining courtroom drama that lacks the brilliant performances, humor, and sizzle that made the latter film a classic. Claude Rains heads a solid supporting cast peppered with actors destined to become known for their television roles: Pat Buttram from Green Acres, James Gregory (Barney Miller), Linda Evans (The Big Valley and Dynasty), and Paul Langton and Henry Beckman (both Peyton Place). Twilight of Honor also "introduced" Joey Heatherton, who is actually quite convincing in the "bad girl" role. Nick Adams, who gained fame on TV's The Rebel, is okay as the none-too-bright defendant. He surprisingly garnered a Best Supporting Actor Oscar nomination for his performance (the film received another nomination for Best Art Direction-Black and White). As for Richard Chamberlain, he struggles at times, but guts out his performance. I think he grew as an actor and was quite convincing in later roles in Shogun and The Thornbirds.

Mr. Smith Goes to Washington (1939)

Who runs Washington? How does one become a congressperson, a senator, or the president? These questions were asked in 1939—and are still being asked today. Americans would like to think that idealists like Jefferson Smith (James Stewart) go to Washington to serve the best interests of those they represent.  Yet, in reality, few idealists ever get to Washington, and if they do get there they are quickly disillusioned by the political process.  Most rational Americans today know that the political process has been corrupted, but I’m not quite so sure that people were so aware of what happened in Washington back in 1939—the year this film, like so many other classics, hit the silver screen.
Nominated for eleven Academy Awards (Best Picture, Best Director [Frank Capra], Best Actor [James Stewart], Best Supporting Actor [Harry Carey and Claude Rains], Best Score, Best Sound Recording, Best Film Editing, Best Interior Direction, Best Screenplay, and Best Original Story [winner Lewis R. Foster]), the film was almost put on the shelf after the outbreak of WWII in Europe.  It would seem that some thought the film presented the shining beacon of democracy as a corrupt cesspool operated by political thugs.  And, really, those people were partly right, but there’s more to the story than that.  Sure, director Frank Capra shows the dirt under the political rug, but he also brightly polishes the true meaning of patriotism and republicanism. 

Mr. Smith Goes to Washington is the simple story of a common man thrown into a complicated situation.  Jefferson Smith is called upon to represent his state (never identified) as a junior senator when his predecessor, Sam Foley, dies.  Needing to fill the position with someone who will be easy to control, Governor "Happy" Hopper (Guy Kibbee) chooses Mr. Smith because he is regarded as a hero and loved for his work with the Boy Rangers (think Boy Scouts)—plus, he has no political experience whatsoever.  As such, he represents, in the words of the governor, “the perfect man, never in politics in his life, wouldn't know what it was all about in two years, let alone two months. And the important thing it means votes. A hero of 50,000 boys, and a hundred thousand parents.” 
Why is it so important that the governor find a “yes” man?  Because he and every political office holder in the state are beholden to political boss Jim Taylor (Eddie Arnold). Taylor has bought up land surrounding a canyon along Willet Creek and wants his political stooges to push through a bill that will provide government funding for a dam—which would allow him to sell the land he’s bought up for a huge profit. Quite simply, it’s the blue ribbon of political pork. Taylor controls everyone, even Senator Joe Paine (Claude Rains), a man some think might be the next president. Indeed, Senator Paine is admired by many, especially by Mr. Smith, whose father was Paine’s best friend. Ah, the dangers of hero-worship.

Capra is quite crafty in how he juxtaposes the backroom dealings of a corrupt political machine with Mr. Smith’s honest reverence for freedom and democracy.  While Taylor, Hopper and Paine are always working the system in closed rooms (they choose who’s allowed in), Mr. Smith revels in the openness of the monuments of Washington (where everyone is welcome).  Even the Senate chamber (expertly recreated by Lionel Banks) is used to show the many faces of the political process. While Smith sits at his desk, once occupied by Daniel Webster, he can see common, everyday people looking on in the gallery. Yet, in this same chamber, you can see senators working the system and attempting to stymie the wheels of truth and justice.

There is an educational bent to the film as well. Mr. Smith’s secretary, Clarissa Saunders (the top-billed Jean Arthur), is supposed to make sure he shows up for roll call and that he votes how the machine wants.  In the beginning, she thinks he’s a big dope and refers to him as Daniel Boone and Don Quixote.  You see, she is the cynical Washington insider who knows how things work, and when some country bumpkin starts spouting off about the virtues of democracy she thinks he’s beyond naïve. She’s also not pleased that he wants to write a bill to start a national boy’s camp.  And, this is where the educational bent comes in.  Trying to dissuade him from his idea she explains the very long and tedious process of what it takes to get a bill passed.  Just her explanation alone is a civic lesson in itself—and perhaps an eye-opener for many audience members.  You must remember, they didn’t have School House Rock and “I’m Just a Bill” in 1939!
Of course, the fact that he wants to build this camp along Willet Creek also creates another problem for Saunders—as she knows about Taylor and Paine’s porked-up plan.  What to do?  Like many secretaries of the 1930s, Saunders is smarter than the boss and so she holds his hand as he first presents the bill and then gives him a crash course in political trench warfare after Paine and the machine discredit and crucify him.  And, this brings us to the famous 23-hour filibuster, where Mr. Smith refuses to yield the floor by reading from the Constitution and various other documents in the hopes that someone, specifically Paine, will clear his good name. Jimmy Stewart always played his righteous characters with just enough instability that they didn’t seem sanctimonious and/or preachy.  You see the complete destruction of his character in these scenes.  At the beginning of the filibuster he seems hopeful and self-assured—surely he will be able to convince the chamber that he is innocent.  But slowly, his strong voice and straight as a rod back start to falter.  His posture droops, his voice cracks, his clothes wrinkle, his hair musses.  What did democracy look like in 1787? Perhaps like Jefferson Smith when he began his filibuster—confident and composed. What does democracy look like in 1939? Like Mr. Smith at the end of his filibuster—defeated and disheveled.  Ah, have heart, there’s more to the story than that, but you need to watch it for yourself to find out. 

Mr. Smith Goes to Washington is a political morality tale about living up to the principles of republicanism—government of the people, by the people, for the people.  Who knew a monument could play a supporting role in a film? Everyone, even Lincoln himself, plays their part well. Eddie Arnold is the epitome of the vile political boss who will stop at nothing (not even running children off the road) to get what he wants. Claude Rains takes the part of cynical politician to a whole new level—you either want to slap or hug him.  Jean Arthur is her usual wise-cracking self, playing a Washington-weary woman just waiting for the right man to come along so she can show her heart of gold.  And, James Stewart does naïve as only he can—desperation and despondency never looked so believable. 
Final assessment: we could use more Jefferson Smiths in America today. Oh, and the film is quite good, too.

31 Days of Halloween: Claude Rains Disappears into a Classic Role in The Invisible Man

If most fans of director James Whale regard Bride of Frankenstein as his masterpiece, that’s only because they can’t see what's looking right at them: The Invisible Man, a clever Whale concoction sandwiched between Frankenstein (1931) and Bride of Frankenstein (1935). This concise, well-written adaptation of H.G. Wells’s novel introduced Claude Rains to American audiences. Rains is superb, even though his face is never glimpsed until the closing scene!

The delightfully atmospheric opening shows a man, his face covered in a scarf and dark glasses, trudging through a heavy snowstorm toward the Lion’s Head pub. His entrance—a gust of wind seemingly blows the door open—startles the pub’s patrons. The owners are reluctant to rent a room to this mysterious stranger, but they eventually agree. Alas, he soon proves to be an unwanted guest, who’s ill-tempered, short on money, and secretive about the experiments being conducted in his room. When the owners try to evict him, he tosses one of them down the stairs. The constable and villagers decide to take matters into their own hands. But when they confront the now raving stranger, he removes all his clothes to reveal that he’s invisible!

We learn later that the invisible stranger is Jack Griffin, a young scientist who unlocked the secret to becoming invisible, but not how to “get back.” What Griffin doesn’t know is that one of the chemicals in his formula causes its subjects to slowly go mad.

It’s an ingenious premise and screenwriter R.C. Sheriff (Goodbye, Mr. Chips) embellishes it with terrific, potent dialogue. When Griffin seeks support from a colleague, he notes: “An invisible man can rule the world. Nobody can see him come. Nobody can see him go. He can hear every secret. He can rob and rape and kill!”

When Griffin talks about his future plans, he confides: “We’ll begin with a reign of terror. Murders of great men. Murders of little men…just to show we make no distinction.”

With the exception of Rains, the cast isn’t exceptionally strong—though Una O’Connor displays her patented hysterics and Henry Travers shows what actors do before they play angels in classics like It’s a Wonderful Life. No, the second best performer in The Invisible Man isn’t an actor at all, but special effects whiz John P. Fulton. He pretty much set the standard on invisibility effects and had a long productive career as a special effects expert for the next four decades.

Like 1936’s Dracula’s Daughter (also written by Sheriff), The Invisible Man has a fine reputation, but just doesn’t get the attention lavished on other Universal classics. Don’t overlook it when you’re in the mood for a good horror film.

Fathers Day...or...Who's Your (favorite) Daddy?

Our new poll takes a look at five accomplished actors in five classic father roles. Which one is your favorite? The nominees are:

Leon Ames as Alonzo Smith in "Meet Me in St. Louis" (1944)...Ames was well known for playing fathers and fatherly figures, though he also had his share of serious roles during his career. His portrayal of successful attorney Smith in one of the ultimate classic family films is timeless. Smith tended to bluster and blow hard, but also had an endearing tender side. The sole breadwinner for his wife, five children and his own father, Smith chose with his heart when faced with deciding between a major career move and his family's happiness. Ames as Smith was an ideal "Turn of the Century" dad.

Claude Rains as Adam Lemp in "Four Daughters" (1938)...TCM's "Star of the Month" for September excelled in every kind of character role. Rains played Adam Lemp in this popular film and its two sequels (Four Wives and Four Mothers). A widower, Lemp was a brilliant master-musician who took in boarders to help meet ends for himself and his four gifted and beautiful daughters. He was the rock in a close-knit family that weathered much melodrama. Rains as Lemp was a noble Depression era dad.

James Stewart as Roger Hobbs in "Mr. Hobbs Takes a Vacation" (1962)...Stewart played dads many times and Hobbs is one of his standouts. Mr. Hobbs and family embark on a seaside vacation during which everything goes wrong. Hobbs tries his best to deal with every disaster, but becomes increasingly perplexed and frazzled as the vacation progressively unravels. Stewart as Hobbs was an archetypal early 60's dad--it was the "New Frontier" and he was getting pressure on all sides.

Spencer Tracy as Stanley Banks in "Father of the Bride" (1950)...Tracy portrayed a vast array of characters in his career, and this is arguably his best dad role. The film is told from the viewpoint of Banks, a prosperous businessman about to lose his adored daughter to wedded bliss. Sometimes annoyed and often befuddled, Banks manages to muddle through each step leading to his daughter's wedding. Tracy played Banks again in a sequel the following year, Father's Little Dividend. Tracy as Banks was a classic dad of the affluent Post-war 1950's.

Clifton Webb as Frank Gilbreth, Sr. in "Cheaper by the Dozen" (1950)...Webb played villains, eccentrics and various scrupulous types in his career. As Gilbreth, Webb portrayed an early 20th Century pioneer in motion study who tries to apply principles of scientific management to raising 12 children. The film ends with Gilbreth's sudden death and a sequel, Belles on Their Toes, followed minus his character. Webb as Gilbreth was a sometimes-curmudgeonly but oddly charming "Machine Age" dad.

To cast your vote, click on your favorite actor/character in the poll located in the green sidebar to the right.