Son of Dracula: "Don't say that word. We don't like it."

Yes, Alucard spelled backward is....

Universal's best 1940s fright film was a rare collaboration between brothers Robert and Curt Siodmak. Robert, who directed, injects his noir sensibilities into the horror genre. He makes Son of Dracula a visually and thematically dark picture with a downbeat ending, Despite its fanciful bat transformations and swirling fog, it often feels more like a traditional film noir. Curt, who wrote the story, introduces a female protagonist who initially appears to be a victim--but is later revealed to be the film's femme fatale.

Robert Paige and Louise Albritton.

It opens in conventional fashion with the European vampire Count Alucard arriving at the Caldwell family's Louisiana plantation. Katherine Caldwell (Louise Albritton) brushes off her current suitor in favor of the mysterious stranger. Meanwhile, Alucard wastes no time in disposing of Katherine's wealthy father. The twist here is that Louise knows Alucard is a vampire (and presumably her father's murderer) and she still marries him. I'll skip the rest of the plot in order to avoid spoilers, but let's just say that Katherine ranks as one of film noir's baddest bad girls.

Albritton standing behind Chaney.

Given its backstory, it's amazing that Son of Dracula turned out to be a first-rate horror film. Originally called Destiny, producer George Waggner left the project due to delays with filming The Phantom of the Opera. Alan Curtis, who was originally cast as Katherine's wussy boyfriend, injured his knee and was replaced by Robert Paige. Curt Siodmak was fired due to what he called "sibling rivalry" with his older brother and only received an "original story" credit (although some of the dialogue sounds like he wrote it). And lastly, Lon Chaney, Jr. was cast--or rather miscast--as Alucard.

Don't get me wrong about Lon Chaney, Jr. He tries hard in the title role and he doesn't hurt the film. It's just that Son of Dracula could have been better with a more gentlemanly menace (perhaps fellow "B" actor Tom Conway). Of course, the film's true star is Louise Albritton and her performance easily carries the plot. She delivers one of my favorite horror movie lines when Paige's character starts to call her a vampire: "Don't say that word. We don't like it."

Robert Siodmak enhances the film with some stunning visuals. The most famous is when Katherine awaits as Alucard's coffin rises to the surface of a swamp. Mist emerges from the coffin and transforms into Alucard. He then stands on top of the coffin, floating toward Katherine, like some kind of vampire royalty. There's an eerie, dream-like quality to the scene that lingers long after the film is over.

Certainly, Son of Dracula has its flaws--the most serious one being wasting the talents of Universal's resident scream queen Evelyn Ankers. The always likable Ankers has a small, thankless role as Katherine's sister. Also, knowing Katherine's ultimate goal, I was initially perplexed as to why she married Alucard. I later surmised it was part of an arrangement between the two, though screenwriter Eric Taylor could have clarified that point with minimal effort.

Universal made other entertaining horror films in the 1940s, such as the wacky monster rallies House of Frankenstein and House of Dracula. But Son of Dracula remains the studio's best serious terror tale and stands as a testament to the talents of the Siodmak brothers. Another film they worked on together was the 1930 German comedy-drama People on Sunday. Its crew also included Edgar Ulmer, Billy Wilder, and Fred Zinnemann.

The Dark, Rainy Streets of "Phantom Lady"

An example of Siodmak's lighting.

If you've read this blog recently, you know we've been on a film noir kick since the start of the new year. We started by revisiting The Blue Dahlia and then moving on to This Gun For Hire and Black Angel. Our latest noir is Robert Siodmak's 1944 "B" mystery Phantom Lady, which--like Black Angel--features an amateur female sleuth.

The film opens with civil engineer Scott Henderson (Alan Curtis) meeting a mysterious, distraught woman (Fay Helm) at an empty bar on a hot Saturday night in New York City. Scott, who has been stood up by his wife, asks the dark-haired stranger if she wants to see a musical revue with him. She initially refuses, but then reluctantly agrees on one condition: They exchange no names, no addresses, and never meet again. Scott agrees.

Later that night, Scott goes home to find the police at his apartment. His wife has been strangled with one of his ties ("A knot so tight it had to be cut with a knife," says one of the detectives). Scott's alibi falls apart when he can't identify his mysterious date. Even worse, the bartender, a taxi driver, and a drummer at the theatre all act as if they had never seen him.

Scott is arrested, convicted, and sentenced to die. It's up to his office co-worker Carol (Ella Raines) to find the real murderer. It's obvious to everyone--except Scott--that Carol is mad about the civil engineer.

Franchot Tone, Thomas Gomez, and Ella Raines in a telling scene.

This premise is similar to the later--and better--Black Angel, in which a man's wife must prove his innocence while he awaits his fate on death row. Black Angel provides more complexity and more nuance. The only element separating Phantom Lady from a dozen other mysteries is that the key witness--the mysterious woman from the bar--appears to have vanished without a trace. Well, there is another distinguishing trait: the killer, played by the biggest star in the picture--doesn't show up until the film is half over.

A passer-by (far right) likely saves Ella's life at the train platform.

Yet, if Phantom Lady lacks a creative spark plotwise, it benefits mightily from Robert Siodmak's moody direction and Ella Raines's determined detective. Siodmak creates some knockout visuals once Carol takes to roaming the city's darkened streets to find the killer. The scene in which she follows the suspicious bartender is a tour-de-force as the two move through rainy streets, a shadow-filled train platform, and partially lit arches. It as good as the famous sequence in Cat People (1942) in which Jane Randolph is followed by something after leaving the swimming pool.

I'm curious as to whether the decision to have the murderer wring his hands compulsively was the screenwriter's or Siodmak's. Regardless, it provides the director with the opportunity to provide some disconcerting close-ups of the hands of the strangler.

As for Phantom Lady's star, Ella Raines makes Carol so likable that it's easy to see why Inspector Burgess decides to help her. (Sure, he makes up an excuse for doing so, but I think it's clear that he admires Carol.) She also gets to display her first-rate acting chops when slipping in a disguise as a trampy lady who takes a liking to a manic drummer (and key witness) played by Elisha Cook, Jr.

Raines had a solid, if unspectacular, acting career. She starred in a handful of "A" pictures opposite leading such men as John Wayne (Tall in the Saddle), Randolph Scott (Corvette K-225), and Eddie Bracken (Hail the Conquering Hero). She later headlined the 1954-55 TV series Janet Dean, Registered Nurse.

Ella Raines also reteamed with director Robert Siodmak in another film noir, The Suspect (1944), which starred Charles Laughton. A year later, Siodmak would make The Spiral Staircase, one of my favorite mysteries, and follow it with his noir masterpiece The Killers (1944). I suspect we will reviewing that one in the near future, too.