This column by Doug Gibson was originally published in the Aug. 1, 2007 Standard-Examiner. It includes a plug for Ed Wood's 1955 wonderfully creaky mad scientist seeks revenge shocker, "Bride of the Monster," starring Bela Lugosi, in his final substantive role. It also starred Tor Johnson, a Wood regular. Ed co-wrote, produced and directed "Bride." It was sneaked, incredibly, with Deborah Kerr's "The End of the Affair!" (At left, Tor Johnson menaces Loretta King in "Bride.")
Dump the 'torture porn' and enjoy an old 'chiller'
by Doug Gibson
Scary cinema is fad-based. We had the creature-features of 60 and 70 years ago ("Frankenstein," "Dracula," "The Wolf Man"), then the atomic, science fiction thrillers ("The Thing," "The Day the Earth Stood Still," "Invasion of the Body Snatchers"). Alfred Hitchcock was a genre himself in the 1960s and early '70s with "Psycho," "The Birds" and "Frenzy."
Gore films were the fad as I grew up. It started with George A. Romero's "Night of the Living Dead," gained momentum with Tobe Hooper's "Texas Chainsaw Massacre" and sort of peaked with Romero's "Dawn of the Dead," a clever satire of consumerism.
When I was a teen, John Carpenter's very scary, and slyly amusing, "Halloween" kicked off the "slasher film" fad. "Nightmare on Elm Street" kept that going, and the dreadful "Friday the 13th" started a string of even worse summer camp slasher movies — anyone remember "Sleepaway Camp" or "The Dorm that Dripped Blood?" Unfortunately, I do.
I stopped watching new horror films in the early 1990s. The movies stopped being original to me, although — hate to say this, maybe I just got tired of blood and guts. Today, if I want to see a scary movie, I choose a spooky ghost story, such as "The Others" or "The Sixth Sense" or "Haunted," a low-budget 1995 chiller.
Regarding today's fad — torture porn, such as "Saw" and "Hostel": Not only do I avoid that junk, I'm already planning strategies so my children will spurn it.In my 40s now, I find myself enjoying old, forgotten films, tiny-budget cheapies from the '30s, '40s, '50s and '60s. I saw these titles in the 1970s' TV Guide, listed after midnight on Los Angeles' several independent TV stations.
A few I got to watch; most I missed. But I never forgot them: "The Ape Man," "Bowery at Midnight," "Scared to Death," "Murder By Television," "Plan 9 From Outer Space," "Carnival of Souls," "The Man with Nine Lives," "King of the Zombies." The studios that made these films — Republic, Monogram, Producers Releasing Corporation, Golden Gate Pictures, Lasky-Monka — they're long gone.
The films have ceased their ubiquitous presence on late-night TV, except rare dates with Turner Classic Movies and UEN's local Sci-Fi Friday movies. But you can buy them all on DVD now — some for a buck. (NEW ADDITION ... a lot of them are on Blu Ray.)
Still, it's sort of sad. As I explain to my skeptical wife, there is a sense of community watching one of these old movies on TV. We're an audience — unseen and far apart — but nevertheless, fans sharing a great film. You don't get that feeling when you watch a film on disc or tape.
For what it's worth, a few recommendations — by decade — of these old chillers. Are they scary? Most, frankly, no. But they are original, with ambitious plots that go as far as a small budget allows.
The 1930s"White Zombie" — This 1932 film stars Bela Lugosi as "Murder Legendre," an evil sorcerer who helps a rich, selfish young man lure a young couple to an island. The selfish man loves the woman, but his plan to win her backfires when the woman is turned into a zombie by Legendre. The film's chills still hold up, particularly the scene of zombies toiling in a sugar mill and the atmospheric castle against a cliff.
The 1940s"Strangler of the Swamp" — Made in 1948, this atmospheric thriller involves a man, hanged for a murder he didn't commit, who returns as a ghost and assumes the role of ferryman at the swamp. Instead of ferrying passengers, he strangles locals in revenge. Finally, a young woman (Rosemary LaPlanche) prepares to offer herself as a sacrifice to get the ghost to leave. The strangler (Charles Middleton) was "Emperor Ming" in the old "Flash Gordon" serials. The 1950s"Bride of the Monster" — This 1955 film is probably the best Ed Wood directed. Sure, that's not saying much, but an emaciated, drug-addicted Bela Lugosi is still good as embittered, exiled mad scientist Eric Vornoff, who "vill perfect ... a race of atomic supermen vich vill conquer the vorld!" Wood staple Tor Johnson, a 400-pound wrestler, is also in the movie. The low budget includes a photo enlarger as an atomic energizer and a rubber octopus as the monster of the marsh.
The 1960s"Spider Baby: Or the Maddest Story Ever Told" — This comedy/horror is creepy. It stars a very old Lon Chaney Jr. as the caretaker for an insane family. They suffer from a syndrome that causes them to degenerate into children, then babies, then prehuman savages. Relatives come to the house to institutionalize the family. It proves to be a long, horrific night. "Spider Baby" was filmed in 1964 but not released until 1968. Chaney Jr., who could barely talk due to his advanced alcoholism, actually sings the title song.
Gibson is the Standard-Examiner's assistant editorial page editor. He can be reached at dgibson@standard.net.
It's October, which practically is Bela Lugosi month at Plan9Crunch. Besides Halloween approaching, October 20 is the birthday of the screen's iconic Dracula. So, in honor of this supernal month, we offer a Halloween treat for our readers. Five writers, well versed in the life and art of Bela Lugosi, examine five of his late-career films. They explain how Bela Lugosi's performance enhances films that would otherwise have remained mediocre, derivative, boring, or oltherwise undistinguished. Lugosi often failed to get roles, or money, as prominent as his horror rival, Boris Karloff, but there's no debate that Bela gave his all in every role, adding his iconic stamp to even the attic offerings of Poverty Row.
So, on with the essays! We will go in the order the films were made, starting with 1944's "Return of the Ape Man" and ending with 1955's "Bride of the Monster."
Lugosi scientist makes “Return of the Ape Man” mad
fun for viewers
By Doug Gibson
In “Return of the Ape Man,” one of Bela Lugosi’s
final Monogram offerings, his deviously mad scientist, Professor Dexter, offers
, with polite arrogance, this laconic remark at a fashionable party to another
guest. “You know, some people’s brains would never be missed.” Shortly
afterward, Dexter tries to prove it by luring the intended of his partner’s
niece to his laboratory for an unwilling partial brain transfer to a
reanimated, prehistoric “ape man.” Only the interference of partner Professor
Gilmore, with the added persuasion of a gun, stops Dexter. “He might not die,”
is Dexter’s defense.
If not for Lugosi, “Return of the Ape Man” would be
virtually forgotten. Even John Carradine underplays his role as Gilmore to the
point of near narcolepsy. The rest of the cast also seems to play their roles
with lethargy. The script, frankly, is unimaginative, and cheats viewers of a
climax with Bela’s character alive. But Lugosi’s Dexter is his second-best mad
scientist role; only Dr. Vollin in 1935’s “The Raven,” surpasses Prof. Gilmore
in mad, ethics-be-damned-crime-be-damned, obsession. Like Vollin, Gilmore is
courtly, charismatic, dedicated and mad as a hatter in his desire to reanimate
a primitive human and provide him a decent brain, at any cost.
Casual fans of the genre may not know that Lugosi
played a mad scientist far more often on screen than he did a vampire. He has
some great lines in “Return of the Ape Man.” They include: “Murder is an ugly
word. As a scientist I don’t recognize it;” and “Fool, you’ll pay for this!” is
Dexter’s angry retort when Gilmore stops him the first time. The too-passive
Gilmore eventually becomes the subject of Dexter’s partial brain transplant,
and the mad glee that fills the countenance of Lugosi’s Dexter is chilling and
unforgettable. Do yourself a favor, Lugosi fans, see “Return of the Ape Man.
Mother Riley Meets the
Vampire offers insight into Bela's misunderstood later years
By Andi Brooks
Dogged for over half a
century by a negative reputation which preceded most people’s chance to view it
for themselves, "Mother Riley Meets the Vampire" is in reality a far cry from the
wretched, hastily thrown together, poverty row comedy it has regularly been
portrayed as. Offering a precious insight into a much-maligned and
misunderstood period of Bela Lugosi’s professional life, the film is essential
viewing for his many fans.
In 1951, Lugosi had
travelled to England with his wife Lillian to star in a revival of Dracula
which, after a short tour of the provinces, would revive his flagging career
with a triumphant run in London’s West End. Instead, he found himself starring
in an under-funded production wildly criss-crossing the United Kingdom while
awaiting an opening in a West End theatre. After almost six months on the road,
the 68-year-old actor, exhausted by the grueling demands of travelling long
distances through the provinces and twice-daily performances, asked the
management to bring the tour to an end.
A persistent legend
holds that Mother Riley Meets the Vampire was hastily arranged to finance the
return to America of Lugosi and his wife when the tour supposedly collapsed
shortly after opening, leaving the couple penniless and stranded in England. In
reality, Lugosi’s participation in the film was first announced in the press
over two months before the tour ended. While a typical B production of the
period, with a slapstick plot lifted directly from "Abbott and Costello Meet
Frankenstein," the film boasts solid production values and acting from a
supporting cast comprised of then-current and future stars of British theatre,
film and TV. Bela Lugosi himself delivers a deliciously confident and
versatile performance as the mad scientist Von Housen.
With no known filmed
record of the Dracula tour in existence, one of the treats of the film is
Lugosi’s first appearance, which mirrors the play’s prologue. Awakened in a
coffin on the floor of his bedchamber by his Renfield-esque assistant, Lugosi’s
hand “spiderwalks” from beneath the lid before he exits the coffin in one fluid
movement in full Dracula costume. Asked why he sleeps in his evening clothes,
he replies, with a twinkle in his eyes, “I was buried in them.” Fully recovered
from the rigors of the tour, the actor would never look in such great shape on
film again.
While Lugosi is said to
have been confused by the constant verbal gymnastics and ad-libbing of the
never-out-of-character, or costume, Arthur Lucan -- in the guise of Mother Riley -- the two veteran actors display a delightful comic chemistry in their first big
scene together. As Von Housen attempts to cooingly seduce the old washerwoman,
Lugosi’s presence brings out a more subdued performance form his usually manic
co-star. The interplay between them really is a joy to watch.
Lugosi’s much neglected
comedic skills are demonstrated throughout the film. When pompously bragging of
his proposed army of 50,000 robots, the suddenly deflated mad scientist is
forced to admit that he has only succeeded in building one. Lugosi’s timing and
delivery are perfect. Later, in an all too brief moment reminiscent of scenes
in both "Dracula" and "Dark Eyes of London," all pretense of comedy is dropped.
After finally ridding himself of the constantly interrupting Mother Riley, his
face a mask of gloating evil, Von Housen menacingly approaches the prostrate
form of Maria Mercedes as Julia Loretti before clamping
his hand over her mouth. Conscious of the need to secure a “U” certificate,
essential to allow children, Mother Riley’s biggest fans, to see the film, the
scene is smartly edited to comply with the certificate’s requirement that
scenes of “mild” violence should not be prolonged.
Although the
script makes it quite clear that Von Housen is not really a vampire to avoid
losing its desired certification, it does play with fire by dropping several
very clear hints that the mad scientist is a blood-drinking serial killer.
This seems to have escaped the censor’s scrutiny, as does Lugosi’s final scene
in which he guns down a police officer at close range.
Every aspect of Bela
Lugosi’s performance in "Mother Riley Meets the Vampire" is a pleasure to watch.
He demonstrates a versatility he is seldom credited with. In addition to his
comedic flourishes, he effortlessly “alternates between a straight reading and
a parody of his mad doctor stereotype, between scene-chewing bravado and a
sinister, soothing charm." If you only know the film by its ill-deserved
reputation, you are guaranteed to be very pleasantly surprised.
Bela Lugosi Meets A Brooklyn Gorilla (1952) -- Lugosi's authenticity reigns
By Steve D. Stones
Perhaps the only authentic aspect of "Bela Lugosi Meets a Brooklyn Gorilla" is
the performance of the actor in the title – Bela Lugosi. Lugosi plays Dr.
Zabor, a mad scientist on a tropical island. Zabor soon meets nightclub
performers and Martin-and-Lewis imitators – Duke Mitchell and Sammy Petrillo -- who become stranded on the island after a plane crash. Zabor plans to use a
serum he has developed on the annoying Petrillo to turn him into a gorilla.
This was Lugosi's last role before starring in a
number of Ed Wood Jr. features. As with all of Lugosi's films, he gives this
role all his best. His Dr. Zabor role in this film is a precursor to the Dr.
Vornoff role he plays in Wood's 1956 feature, "Bride of The Monster," (aka "Bride
of The Atom"). Whenever Lugosi is not in a scene, we anxiously await for him to
return after sitting through bad musical performances and the annoying antics
of Sammy Petrillo. Lugosi may be the only reason to see this film.
Directed by William “One Shot “Beaudine ("The Ape Man" – 1943, "Voodoo Man" - 1945), the film was completed in less than two weeks for
only $12,000 and was also titled "The Boys From Brooklyn." Producer Hal Wallis
threatened to sue over Mitchell and Petrillo's impersonation of
Martin-and-Lewis. This ended the movie partnership of Mitchell and Petrillo. At
least actor Ray “Crash” Corrigan, the man in the ape suit, went on to star in a
number of other monster movies, such as "It! The Terror Beyond Space" (1958).
Only Lugosi purists should apply.
GLEN OR GLENDA, 1953, IS 'MAD ART'
By Frank Dello Stritto
“All great art is a
little mad,” goes the old saying, “and all mad art is a little great.” Glen or Glenda, Ed Wood’s 1953 tale of
transvestism and transsexuality, is mad art. And it is at least a little great.
Undeterred by a minuscule budget and his own limitations, Wood reached deep
within himself to explore sexual identity as no film maker had done been
before, and rarely since. The movie alternates between the surreal and
documentary. The narrator of the documentary is Dr. Alton (Timothy Farrell), a
psychiatrist specializing in the complexities of human sexuality. Bela Lugosi
embodies the surreal. His character is billed as “The Scientist,” but he is
more a dark sorcerer or spirit who rules men’s fates.
Glen
or Glenda begins and ends with Lugosi monologues. Lugosi’s
task is to convey sexuality as more than Alton’s clinical explanations. Lugosi
delivers his eccentric dialogue in a lush style: serious but mysterious, with
more than a little of what the actor himself would call “mugging.” “The
Scientist” knows something normal humans do not, and never will. As in some of
Lugosi’s classic horror films, the supernatural impinges on the real world, and
rational reasoning falls short of the full truth.
The documentary takes
over with the suicide of transvestite Patrick/Patricia (a transvestite), and
the tales of Glen/Glenda, a transvestite played by Wood, and Alan/Ann, a
transsexual. Lugosi intervenes throughout the movie, but is little seen. In one
of these pop-ins, he interrupts the sober discourses on Glen’s desires with the
movie’s most famous line:
“Beware! Beware! Beware
of the big green dragon that sits on your doorstep. He eats little boys...puppy
dog tails, and big, fat snails. Beware. Take care. Beware!”
Without Lugosi, the
documentary would be rather dry, buoyed only by its sensational subject matter.
Producer George Weiss allegedly inserted the soft-porn sequences in the middle
of the film to liven up the action, make the running time a little longer, and
perhaps add some comic relief (with insert close-ups of an apparently
disapproving Lugosi). The presence of Lugosi throughout the movie adds the
other-worldly element that makes Glen or
Glenda more than just a sex-education video. It makes more palatable Glen’s
weird dream sequences, with a truly bizarre Satan (played by Captain DeZita,
who also played Glen’s father).
Lugosi achieved some
great things during his career. The last one, unintentionally no doubt, may be
exposing the sordid underbelly of Hollywood through his association with Ed
Wood. Wood spent his entire career on Hollywood’s lowest rung, and Lugosi in
his last years joined him there. Wood
might not be remembered at all but for Lugosi’s appearances in Bride of the Monster, Plan Nine from Outer Space, and Glen or Glenda. They should not be
listed among “the worst films ever” as they often are, but perhaps among “the
worst films that audiences can really enjoy.” No small part of that enjoyment
comes from Lugosi.
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Bride Of The Monster 1955, Lugosi's Dr. Vornoff is a monumental character
By Christopher R. Gauthier
Considered by many to be his final film despite
making "The Black Sleep" in '56 after his release from rehab for his addiction to
pain narcotics, Dr. Eric Vornoff is quite a vivaciously monumental character,
rich with a substance that evokes a strange curiosity and under Lugosi's
powerful command, conjures an undeniable intrigue that draws one into a world
that might otherwise be languid and tediously mundane... Lugosi as Vornoff
brings the film together, he remains the focal
point and breathes promethean life into a filmic rhetorical anatomy that is
otherwise dilapidated and near close to brain dead.
The role is particularly
emotional and poignant at times, no doubt could Lugosi identify with the
tragedies his character for this film had endured. Being banned from his
native Hungary, estranged from his wife and son, having to struggle with the
inability to secure a home of his own in the forsaken impoverished jungle hell
that was Hollywood, Lugosi is doing his best, as he always did, with this
personally crafted role, that in many subliminal ways to the audiences at the
time was cathartic for his browbeaten soul....It was his last speaking role on
screen. There is a morose poetry to his performance, and he has made it
something we as die-hard loyal Lugosi aficionados treasure deeply to this very
day. I think Wood wanted this to be a swansong for Lugosi, and in its own
right, indeed it is.
Disregard the scoffs that often follow the very
mention of the film, "Bride Of The Monster" is a beautifully flawed poetic
masterpiece, which because of Bela is so incredibly wonderful to watch. The
circumstantial production values were quite terrible, the film was not by far
the best material he was ever offered, but as always, Lugosi being the true
professional he was, uplifts the film into the echelons of cinematic greatness.
Bela was the grandest mad scientist of them all during that era, and even in
this lopsided production his indelible and incandescent ingenuity upon the
nobility of his theatrical craft shines through the chinked flaws that overall
make-up the entire sets and scripted inconsistencies of this slapdash and often
incomprehensible film.
Bride Of The Monster is a very significant film for
Lugosi and as disciples we must study it and appreciate it. It is his last
crusade and conquest as a lone Star of a Hollywood production. One of the last
great performances, before the final curtain was descended upon him to collect
him in the twilight winter of his life.
Thanks so much to Steve, Andi, Frank and Chris for their contributions!
Plan 9 Crunch is pleased to have a conversation with film scholar Frank J. Dello Stritto, author of many genre articles and three books: "A Quaint and Curious Volume of Forgotten Lore" (a collection of his fine articles), "I Saw What I Saw When I Saw It" (his memoir of life as a "monster boomer) and the recently published a second edition of "Vampire Over London: Bela Lugosi in Britain," that he co-wrote with Andi Brooks, who runs the best Bela Lugosi blog.
Dello Stritto's work is priceless to the cult film lover. "Vampire Over London" (our review of the book is our second most popular post) places Dello Stritto and Brooks with Gary Don Rhodes, Robert Cremer and Arthur Lennig as the Lugosi biographers one must read.
A while back, Plan9Crunch interviewed another fine genre scholar, Tom Weaver, about his book, "Poverty Row Horrors." Read it here. After we published it, I thought of interviewing Frank on the low-budget film career of Lugosi, who, it is perfectly just and fair to say, outlasts any other early horror star in prominence in the low-budget chillers of that era. Frank graciously agreed to the interview. We hope you enjoy it; we sure did. By the way, you can buy the three books mentioned above at Cult Movies Press.
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1) Was Bela Lugosi (a) initially an A-actor
who descended to Poverty Row roles as his career continued.
or, (b) a Poverty Row actor who through his career
occasionally enjoyed roles in A productions.
Dello Stritto: Definitely
(A). Bela Lugosi gave outstanding performances when given half a chance. The
few A-films in which he had sizeable roles are all enhanced by his presence. He
was trapped by his stereotype and by his accent.
But he was a great presence in Poverty
Row films, probably the greatest of the Poverty Row stars.
2) What was Bela Lugosi's top performance in
a Poverty Row movie role in the 1930s and why?
Dello Stritto: “Poverty
Row” did not really come into its own until the 1940s. In the 1930s, the films
are “the low-budget independents,” e.g., those films not associated with a
major studio (like Universal) or producer (like Samuel Goldwyn). Lugosi’s best among
these has to be White Zombie. While
it has the shortcomings of most such movies — mainly bad acting by supporting
players — it sticks to a simple story and plays almost as a fairy tale. Lugosi’s
role, the sorcerer/zombie master, is one that he could play like no other. The
weakness of a lot of Poverty Row films is that they are so hurried. Though White Zombie was filmed on a tight schedule,
effort was made to bring in some very effective cinematic touches. The editing
is surprisingly good. That was all the help Lugosi needed to give one of his
most memorable performances.
3) Why did Bela Lugosi find it so hard to
find movie roles in low-budget films in 1937-38, during the British ban on
horror, while in contrast his rival Boris Karloff thrived at Monogram and
Columbia?
Dello Stritto: Boris
Karloff was a more versatile actor, a better handler of his career, and was
acting in his native language. And his most famous horror roles had been
beneath layers of make-up, while Lugosi’s face was the face of Hollywood
horror. His voice was the voice of Dracula. When horror went out of fashion,
Lugosi went with it. If he had landed a solid role in a good, non-horror movie,
he might have broken horror’s hold on him, but that never happened. No producer
wanted to take the chance.
4) What is your personal favorite of
Lugosi's Monogram films, and your least favorite, and why?
Dello Stritto: That’s a
tough one. When I was a kid, I liked them all, but in truth there is not a
really good movie among them. Lugosi’s roles in the Monograms fall in two
categories: those where he is purely a cardboard villain, and where his
character has more depth than the film cares to deal with. He is on his own in
them, and sometimes overcomes the mediocrity of the rest of the movie. My
narrow winner is Black Dragons.
Lugosi plays a plastic surgeon, betrayed by his Japanese clients and seeking
revenge. The movie has its absurdities, but Lugosi does rather well as a
basically lonely man working through his obsession before the law gets him.
Bowery
at Midnight, Voodoo Man (both
which give Lugosi’s character more potential than the movie can ever realize)
and Return of the Ape Man (not much
depth there, Lugosi is evil through and through) are close second. Except for
the two East Side Kids movies, the other Monograms are closely packed in third.Lugosi’s two East Side Kids are distant
last place holders. Neither makes good use of him.
5) Is The Devil Bat, from PRC, superior to the Monogram films, and why?
Dello Stritto: It is
certainly better than most of the Monograms, and may well stand above all of
them. The touches of humor that often simply don’t work in the Monograms, work
well enough in The Devil Bat. Lugosi’s
part suits him quite well. Dr. Carruthers is a bitter loner, secretly plotting
revenge on those who, in his mind, have crossed him. Lugosi has a lot of scenes
alone in his laboratory, and his over-the-top acting works well in that
setting. The contrast between the hateful man in the laboratory and the charmer
when he meets his victims is perhaps over-done, but it is well-done. Lugosi was
great at overacting, which sometimes fits in Poverty Row better than in
mainstream films.
6) How did RKO, where Bela had a three-film
deal, square in the 40s movie world? A productions, Bs, or somewhere in
between?
Dello Stritto: RKO may be
my favorite Hollywood studio. It is different from the other majors. It was not
founded and run for decades by a mogul. It was cobbled together by bankers (one
of them Joseph Kennedy) in the early 1930s, and handed off from one production
head to another (such as David O. Selznick and Merian C. Cooper). So, it was
often saw hard times, and wound up owned by Howard Hughes. But 1940s RKO turned
out Citizen Kane and Orson Welles’s
early films, and Val Lewton’s nine horror films. It was in the vanguard of film noir, and was the distributor of
choice for major independent producers Goldwyn and Selznick. Cary Grant,
perhaps the most important star not under contract to one studio, did some of
his best 1940s work at RKO. So, RKO may have struggled to stay among the
majors, but its output includes as many enduring films as any of its
competitors.
In the mid-1940s, Lugosi made three
films at RKO: The Body Snatchers, Zombies on Broadway, and Genius at Work. The Body Snatchers is by far the best of them, but Lugosi has a
minor role, as he does in Genius at Work.
I have great affection for Zombies on
Broadway. I loved it as a kid, and my sons when they were eight or so loved
it, too. As light entertainment, which is all it tries to be, it dates quite
well.
7) Of Lugosi's four films, Mother Riley
Meets the Vampire, Bela Lugosi Meets
a Brooklyn Gorilla, Glen Or Glenda, and Bride of the Monster, where he was mentioned as a star, which is
his best performance?
Dello Stritto: The best of
performance among them is Dr. Varnoff in Brideof the Monster. It is a true “Lugosi film” built around his character and
persona. Again, and for the last time, he is an angry outcast working his mad
schemes in secret. The movie has all the incompetence of most Ed Wood films,
but Lugosi does quite well with his part. And he has the famous scene where
Varnoff bemoans his mistreatment by the world on which he plans vengeance.
Glen
or Glenda needs a separate interview. As filmmaking, it is a disaster. But
it is such a personal film (by Ed Wood) that I have to give it a nod. It is like a dream — its parts don’t quite fit
together, characters come and go, wild images bubble up from nowhere. Lugosi as
whatever he is supposed to be, is quite fine in it.
Mother
Riley Meets the Vampire and Bela
Lugosi Meets a Brooklyn Gorilla are intentionally silly movies. As he
always did, Lugosi tries his best. You can either enjoy the nonsense, or just
turn them off. I have done both.
I thought I knew all there was to know of “Bride of the Monster,” Ed Wood’s deliriously entertaining thriller that places Bela Lugosi in his last starring role, the last time he carried a film, that the plot and film’s success relied on his performance. I’d read several books with information on “Bride of the Monster” and perhaps three times as many articles.
I was wrong, though. “Ed Wood’s Bride of the Monster,” part of the Scripts From the Crypt collections edited by Tom Weaver, published by BearManor Media this year, is a literal — in fact intentional — scrapbook devoted to all things related to the iconic “Bride of the Monster,” which is generally the third-most popular Ed Wood film, after “Plan 9 From Outer Space” and “Glen Or Glenda.”
The film’s synopsis, as well as the script (an actual copy) is included in the book. The film involves an exiled mad scientist, Dr. Eric Vornoff, trying to make atomic supermen in his home, by a swamp and a lake, near a city in Florida. A woman reporter, (Loretta King) her boyfriend detective (Tony McCoy), and other police try to put a stop to it. There’s also a government agent, Professor Strowski, (George Becwar) presumably from a communist country, trying to kidnap Vornoff. The mad scientist is helped by a very large mute, Lobo, whom he found wandering in Tibet's wilderness. Lugosi plays Vornoff and Tor Johnson plays Lobo.
Film scholar Gary D. Rhodes presents a very interesting essay on the film’s history. Here are some things that I learned. “Bride of the Monster” was once a part of a package of films that Wood and film producer Richard Gordon hoped to sell to Allied Artists. Besides Lugosi, another star of a film was to be Boris Karloff. Eventually, these hopes were reduced to one film, “Bride of the Atom,” that would have starred Karloff, Lugosi and Lon Chaney Jr. That would have been an excellent teaming of three legends, but in the early 1950s, not many were impressed with the idea.
In the Allied Artists scenario, Karloff would have played Vornoff, Lugosi Strowski, and Chaney Jr. Lobo. Eventually, Allied Artists nixed the whole idea and left Wood scrambling to seek funding as well as he could, eventually getting the lion’s share of the funds from star McCoy’s father.
Another tidbit of information I learned is that “Bride of the Monster” appears to have been ... drum roll ... a box office success. Of course, Ed Wood never saw a cent of the profits, having signed it away. But the film, with capable distribution and successful people in the industry behind it, including Samuel Arkoff, was handled effectively. It was in distribution for years, and about a year as a first-run feature. In one article, Bride’s share of receipts for a week in Los Angeles are tagged at $8,000-plus. The history of the film’s distribution is covered in detail, and it shows a film that was always in theaters in the mid 1950s, in double features, triple features and as part of live spook shows. The film was even paired with the Raymond Burr version of “Godzilla.” This information, a treat for fans, was gathered by Dr. Robert J. Kiss.
I recall reading, probably in “Nightmare of Ecstasy,” Rudolph Grey’s oral history of Wood, someone mentioning that if any Wood film made money, it was “Bride.” The information in this scrapbook provides strong evidence that is accurate.
The scrapbook also includes dozens of pages with small, paragraph-packaged facts on the film, compiled by Weaver, who, along with Rhodes, has a long list of previous literary accomplishments covering genre films. Weaver does offer an interesting take on who might have written most of “Bride of the Monster.” Some say Wood; others say Alex Gordon. Weaver favors Gordon, arguing that Bride’s “companion films,” “Plan 9 From Outer Space” and “Night of the Ghouls,” have certain Wood trademarks (lectures about violent youth, overwrought narration) that are absent from the tighter, more disciplined “Bride” script. Weaver also reminds that if you pay attention, you can see an unbilled Conrad Brooks behind a window early in the film.
It’s fun to read the script, because frankly, it presents a more exciting film that ended up on the screen. Obviously, budget limitations and a very limp octopus prop hampered what’s on the screen. But it is sad that the film does not have the promised battle royal between a atomic giant Vornoff and the monster octopus as depicted in the script. In the film, Lugosi’s double submits weakly to the octopus. Again, it's likely due to costs and a poor monster prop.
Besides what I have mentioned, this scrapbook contains many photos, an excellent essay on the career of character actor Ben Frommer (the drunk in “Bride of the Monster) , an essay on the music score (Bride had an original score!), as well as very interesting interviews with ”Bride“ star Loretta King, Wood’s last wife, Hope Lininger Lugosi, and a 1970s interview of Wood by Fred Olen Ray. I have seen all of these before in the now-defunct Cult Movies magazine, but it’s fun to have them in the scrapbook.
Also gathered are the script from Lugosi’s Las Vegas act in the 1950s and his testimony before Congress, shortly before his death, on his long struggle with drug abuse. (A page of that testimony is missing from the book, though). Also, ”Bride’s“ very small press booklet is included. There are copied recollections of Wood and Lugosi from the Gordon brothers and an interview with Richard Sheffield (also missing a page), the last person to see Lugosi alive. There's even a playbill from an "Arsenic and Old Lace" touring company with Lugosi as Jonathan Brewster. And even more ... but get the book!
We who love the minutiae of our cult films obsessions salute this book. Like ”Nightmare of Ecstasy,“ it’s a collection we will pore over hundreds of times over the years, reading a little, or most of the volume if we have a long weekend. Re-read, re-read, re-read, we do what we can to feed our love of Ed Wood, Bela Lugosi, ”Bride of the Monster,“ and more. How fortunate we are to have books like this, that respond to our needs.
Tim Burton's wonderful film, Ed Wood, recently was chosen as one of the "new classics," by Entertainment Weekly. It's a worthy selection. Burton's black & white tale of Hollywood in the 1950s is a romanticized fairy tale. Johnny Depp's exuberant, ceaselessly optimistic Wood carries the day with a triumphant Plan 9 from Outer Space premiere at the Pantages. (That didn't happen, of course. Plan 9 was screened once at the tiny Rialto and then sat on the shelf for three years). When Plan 9 was put into general release, Wood didn't see a cent.
Later, before the credits to Burton's film roll, the epilogue tells us Wood descended into alcoholism and pornography. It's appropriate that not be shown in Burton's film. It is, as mentioned a fairy tale, of optimism and perserverance. In a general sense, it is accurate. Wood battled tremendous odds in the 1950s. He filmed Glen Or Glenda, Jail Bait, Bride of the Monster, Plan 9 From Outer Space and Night of the Ghouls with virtually no money. He managed to attract a diverse and eccentric collection of well-known and semi-known cast names, including Dolores Fuller, Criswell, Kenne Duncan, Steve Reeves, Bud Osborne, Timothy Farrell, John Carpenter, Harvey Dunne, Lyle Talbot, Vampira, Herbert Rawlinson, Gregory Walcott and, of course, Bela Lugosi. It appears Wood's enthusiasm was contagious, and many thought he might make it. That he didn't have a long career at least in directing low-budget thrillers must be attributed to his alcoholism, which made him unreliable. Even near his death, his writing was amazingly prolific. More than one friend recalls him writing a screenplay in a day. He wrote hundreds of paperback novels.
The following are some inconsistencies between Burton's Ed Wood, the romanticized, fairy tale film, and Grey's often gritty absorbing oral biography account of Wood's short rise and long descent. One day I'll add to this as time goes on. Here are inconsistencies by film:
Glen or Glenda: In the book, George Weiss is shown as short and trim. In the film he is an overweight slob; It is doubtful that Wood's gay friend Bunny Breckenridge auditioned transvestites for the film. By the way, actor Bill Murray does a great job portraying Breckenridge. The film set for G&G though, matches it as described in the book. Lugosi was not divorced, as the film depicts him. He was still with his wife, Lillian, although she left him soon after. In fact, Grey reports that Lillian pushed Lugosi to take the film. It is also very doubtful Wood gave G&G to a major producer to watch, as the film shows. Also, the film shows Depp's Wood as unhappy that the film was not reviewed in LA. Obviously, Wood would have known where the film was debuting and not checked the LA Times for a review. Burton's scenes of Wood's company stealing shots on LA streets are accurate, according to Grey.
Jail Bait: This film is not even mentioned in Burton's Ed Wood (probably for time and continuity reasons) so let's give it some ink. It's a crime thriller that involves a hood (Farrell) pressuring a plastic surgeon (Rawlinson) and his daughter (Fuller) to make him a new face. Interesting co-stars were Reeves (in his pre-muscleman days) and then-top model Theodora Thurman. Also in the cast are Wood regulars Mona McKinnon, Don Nagel and Bud Osborne. The film's score, which is a bit grating, was taken from Mesa of Lost Women. Howco Films released the film, which likely mostly played the southern drive-in circuit. It's too ambitious for its budget, but is not a bad hour-long time waster. According to Grey, scenes were stolen at an LA motel. (Scene stealing is shooting at private and public locations without permission) Grey, and many rumors, claim that ex-silent film star Rawlinson died the morning after his scenes were shot. Lugosi was slated to play the plastic surgeon, but was either exhausted from his recent Las Vegas gig, too addicted to morphine, or perhaps just had a better offer.
Bride of the Monster: Burton's scenes in LA's Griffith Park of Wood filming in the early AM the finale to Bride are accurate to Grey's description with one exception: Lugosi never got in the water to tangle with a rubber octopus. That was handled by his stand-in, stuntman Eddie Parker. Burton portrays Loretta King, who starred as a nosy reporter, as an airhead. Grey's depiction is fairer, and recent interviews support that she was a capable actress who got the job not for her supposed money, but for her skills. Dolores Fuller's anger at losing the role is accurately portrayed in both film and book. Also, Burton is very unfair to leading man Tony McCoy. He is portrayed as borderline retarded. Wood calls him the worst he ever had in Grey's book. But a viewing of Bride of the Monster shows McCoy to be a very average but capable actor. He certainly knew his lines and can be personable on screen. In fact, McCoy and King were both handled by agent Marge Usher, who supplied Wood with several actors.
Plan 9 From Outer Space: First, although it is a marvelous scene in Burton's Ed Wood, Wood and his idol Orson Welles never chatted at a Hollywood bar. That scene is fiction. By the way, Wood's friend and actor Conrad Brooks plays the bartender in that scene. Also, Burton has Vampira and Kathy Wood being baptized as a Baptist with other Wood regulars to get funding for the film. I don't believe Vampira would have done it, and Kathy Wood says in Grey's book she wouldn't get baptized. It is doubtful Wood would have been angry at Gregory Walcott being cast in his film, since he was a minor name actor at the time. Also, Wood never agreed to his film, Grave Robbers From Outer Space, being changed in title to Plan 9 From Outer Space, as Burton's film show. A minor point; but Ed and Kathy Wood did not meet at Lugosi's hospital, as the film shows. In later interviews, Kathy Wood said they met in a bar. The film was not premiered at the Pantages, and certainly wasn't the elaborate affair as Burton's film shows. In fact, Wood sold the rights to Plan 9 to his Baptist financier, J. Edward Reynolds, for $1 (as Grey recounts) and the film received a minimal release from a small firm, Distributors Releasing Corporation of America. It opened as a second bill to a now-obscure British film called Time Lock.
Night of the Ghouls: Again, not mentioned in Burton's Ed Wood, this film was a sequel to Bride of the Monster, as it involved Tor Johnson's giant Lobo, and a semi sequel to Plan 9 as it had Paul Marco's Patrolman Kelton and Duke Moore's Lt. Daniel Bradford in the cast. It involves a phony medium (Duncan, in a role obviously intended for the late Lugosi) and his young squeeze (Valda Hansen) ripping off elderly fools in an old house. The tables are turned on the pair as the police close in on them and the dead really do start to awake. It has Criswell, narrating from a coffin as he does in Plan 9 and having a brief acting role as well. (Let me digress and say that Jeffrey Jones was brilliant as the late psychic in Burton's film). As mentioned, Tor Johnson's Lobo shuffles around menacingly. The film is intermixed with scenes from an unreleased Wood film called Final Curtain. That sequence, which stars Moore and actress Jeanne Stevens, is quite creepy. After years of not being available for viewing, Final Curtain finally had a screen showing and was released to YouTube a while back. You can see it here and we have embedded it below. Night of the Ghouls was premiered but Wood ran out money, couldn't pay a lab bill and the film was seized for about a quarter of a century before Wood fan Wade Williams paid the bill and it was released. The film's budget is threadbare and dirt-cheap. A cut out picture of Ed Wood is posted on a police wall. The police commander's office has no doorknobs. Obviously, Wood planned more editing and shoots before he lost control of the film. Night of the Ghouls was the first in a planned sequence of films that Wood wanted to make.
Tim Burton's wonderful film, Ed Wood, recently was chosen as one of the "new classics," by Entertainment Weekly. It's a worthy selection. Burton's black & white tale of Hollywood in the 1950s is a romanticized fairy tale. Johnny Depp's exuberant, ceaselessly optimistic Wood carries the day with a triumphant Plan 9 from Outer Space premiere at the Pantages. (That didn't happen, of course. Plan 9 was screened once at the tiny Rialto and then sat on the shelf for three years). When Plan 9 was put into general release, Wood didn't see a cent.
Later, before the credits to Burton's film roll, the epilogue tells us Wood descended into alcoholism and pornography. It's appropriate that not be shown in Burton's film. It is, as mentioned a fairy tale, of optimism and perserverance. In a general sense, it is accurate. Wood battled tremendous odds in the 1950s. He filmed Glen Or Glenda, Jail Bait, Bride of the Monster, Plan 9 From Outer Space and Night of the Ghouls with virtually no money. He managed to attract a diverse and eccentric collection of well-known and semi-known cast names, including Dolores Fuller, Criswell, Kenne Duncan, Steve Reeves, Bud Osborne, Timothy Farrell, John Carpenter, Harvey Dunne, Lyle Talbot, Vampira, Herbert Rawlinson, Gregory Walcott and, of course, Bela Lugosi. It appears Wood's enthusiasm was contagious, and many thought he might make it. That he didn't have a long career at least in directing low-budget thrillers must be attributed to his alcoholism, which made him unreliable. Even near his death, his writing was amazingly prolific. More than one friend recalls him writing a screenplay in a day. He wrote hundreds of paperback novels.
The following are some inconsistencies between Burton's Ed Wood, the romanticized, fairy tale film, and Grey's often gritty absorbing oral biography account of Wood's short rise and long descent. One day I'll add to this as time goes on. Here are inconsistencies by film:
Glen or Glenda: In the book, George Weiss is shown as short and trim. In the film he is an overweight slob; It is doubtful that Wood's gay friend Bunny Breckenridge auditioned transvestites for the film. By the way, actor Bill Murray does a great job portraying Breckenridge. The film set for G&G though, matches it as described in the book. Lugosi was not divorced, as the film depicts him. He was still with his wife, Lillian, although she left him soon after. In fact, Grey reports that Lillian pushed Lugosi to take the film. It is also very doubtful Wood gave G&G to a major producer to watch, as the film shows. Also, the film shows Depp's Wood as unhappy that the film was not reviewed in LA. Obviously, Wood would have known where the film was debuting and not checked the LA Times for a review. Burton's scenes of Wood's company stealing shots on LA streets are accurate, according to Grey.
Jail Bait: This film is not even mentioned in Burton's Ed Wood (probably for time and continuity reasons) so let's give it some ink. It's a crime thriller that involves a hood (Farrell) pressuring a plastic surgeon (Rawlinson) and his daughter (Fuller) to make him a new face. Interesting co-stars were Reeves (in his pre-muscleman days) and then-top model Theodora Thurman. Also in the cast are Wood regulars Mona McKinnon, Don Nagel and Bud Osborne. The film's score, which is a bit grating, was taken from Mesa of Lost Women. Howco Films released the film, which likely mostly played the southern drive-in circuit. It's too ambitious for its budget, but is not a bad hour-long time waster. According to Grey, scenes were stolen at an LA motel. (Scene stealing is shooting at private and public locations without permission) Grey, and many rumors, claim that ex-silent film star Rawlinson died the morning after his scenes were shot. Lugosi was slated to play the plastic surgeon, but was either exhausted from his recent Las Vegas gig, too addicted to morphine, or perhaps just had a better offer.
Bride of the Monster: Burton's scenes in LA's Griffith Park of Wood filming in the early AM the finale to Bride are accurate to Grey's description with one exception: Lugosi never got in the water to tangle with a rubber octopus. That was handled by his stand-in, stuntman Eddie Parker. Burton portrays Loretta King, who starred as a nosy reporter, as an airhead. Grey's depiction is fairer, and recent interviews support that she was a capable actress who got the job not for her supposed money, but for her skills. Dolores Fuller's anger at losing the role is accurately portrayed in both film and book. Also, Burton is very unfair to leading man Tony McCoy. He is portrayed as borderline retarded. Wood calls him the worst he ever had in Grey's book. But a viewing of Bride of the Monster shows McCoy to be a very average but capable actor. He certainly knew his lines and can be personable on screen. In fact, McCoy and King were both handled by agent Marge Usher, who supplied Wood with several actors.
Plan 9 From Outer Space: First, although it is a marvelous scene in Burton's Ed Wood, Wood and his idol Orson Welles never chatted at a Hollywood bar. That scene is fiction. By the way, Wood's friend and actor Conrad Brooks plays the bartender in that scene. Also, Burton has Vampira and Kathy Wood being baptized as a Baptist with other Wood regulars to get funding for the film. I don't believe Vampira would have done it, and Kathy Wood says in Grey's book she wouldn't get baptized. It is doubtful Wood would have been angry at Gregory Walcott being cast in his film, since he was a minor name actor at the time. Also, Wood never agreed to his film, Grave Robbers From Outer Space, being changed in title to Plan 9 From Outer Space, as Burton's film show. A minor point; but Ed and Kathy Wood did not meet at Lugosi's hospital, as the film shows. In later interviews, Kathy Wood said they met in a bar. The film was not premiered at the Pantages, and certainly wasn't the elaborate affair as Burton's film shows. In fact, Wood sold the rights to Plan 9 to his Baptist financier, J. Edward Reynolds, for $1 (as Grey recounts) and the film received a minimal release from a small firm, Distributors Releasing Corporation of America. It opened as a second bill to a now-obscure British film called Time Lock.
Night of the Ghouls: Again, not mentioned in Burton's Ed Wood, this film was a sequel to Bride of the Monster, as it involved Tor Johnson's giant Lobo, and a semi sequel to Plan 9 as it had Paul Marco's Patrolman Kelton and Duke Moore's Lt. Daniel Bradford in the cast. It involves a phony medium (Duncan, in a role obviously intended for the late Lugosi) and his young squeeze (Valda Hansen) ripping off elderly fools in an old house. The tables are turned on the pair as the police close in on them and the dead really do start to awake. It has Criswell, narrating from a coffin as he does in Plan 9 and having a brief acting role as well. (Let me digress and say that Jeffrey Jones was brilliant as the late psychic in Burton's film). As mentioned, Tor Johnson's Lobo shuffles around menacingly. The film is intermixed with scenes from an unreleased Wood film called Final Curtain. That sequence, which stars Moore and actress Jeanne Stevens, is quite creepy. If anyone knows where to find a complete version of Final Curtain, it would be quite a find. Night of the Ghou;s was premiered but Wood ran out money, couldn't pay a lab bill and the film was seized for about a quarter of a century before Wood fan Wade Williams paid the bill and it was released. The film's budget is threadbare and dirt-cheap. A cut out picture of Ed Wood is posted on a police wall. The police commander's office has no doorknobs. Obviously, Wood planned more editing and shoots before he lost control of the film. Night of the Ghouls was the first in a planned sequence of films that Wood wanted to make.
I have been watching "The Cult Vanishes" a lot recently. The 1942 thriller starring Bela Lugosi is no weirder than many of his other Monogram flicks, but it has -- as my colleague Steve D. Stones has pointed out -- some similarities to Lugosi's later Ed Wood flicks, particularly "Bride of the Monster." Lugosi whips one of his henchmen (Frank Moran), just as he does Tor Johnson in "Bride ...," and there is a very cheesy basement in both films, where the bizarre doings with young lovelies take place. Both "Corpse" and "Bride" have very very fake bricks painted on the studio walls.
Steve has done a great job summarizing "Corpse ...," so go to his review (here) to read it. I'll just say that Dr. Lorenz (Lugosi) lives with his wife in a remote area. She is kept young by Lugosi kidnapping brides who fall "dead" at the altar and taking fluid from their necks, which he gives to his wife (Elizabeth Russell). Lugosi sends the brides a rare orchid flower that renders them senseless and then with the help of his henchmen (Moran) and Angelo Rossitto, take them back to the remote home. A young reporter (Luana Walters) tries to get the story and solve the crime. (I also long ago wrote a review of "The Corpse Vanishes" for this site, (read) but I think I like the film better now.)
Luana Walters is a tragic figure. A rodeo star who was mainly in westerns, she was a beautiful woman and a good actress. She easily out-acts the male romantic lead, Tristam Coffin, who defines wooden. Unfortunately, Walters' career faltered while Coffin managed to do well in the business for 30-plus years. Her husband's death in 1945 further depressed Walters, and she suffered from alcoholism, a disease that would eventually destroy her liver and kill her in 1963 at the age of 50. In 1956, after being out of films for 7 years, she made her final two films, one of which was "She Creatures."
The very low budgets of Monogram are easily depicted in the cramped sets and amateur bit part players, such as the first groom of an afflicted bride (who is only capable of a goofy stare) and a police operator (who drips through some cool lines with the emotion of a fat lizard.) Supporting players (at Lugosi's home, including Moran, Rossitto and the cool Minerva Urecal (who had her best role in "The Ape Man," are better. A casting coup for "Corpse .." is Russell as Lugosi's insane wife. She was a favorite in Val Lewton's RKO thrillers, including "Bedlam,"and I recall her also in a Universal "Hidden Sanctum" film, "Weird Woman," with Lon Chaney Jr. Less impressive is Kenneth Harlan as Walters' Editor Keenan. He's gruff, but the lines he's forced to utter also make him appear stupid, and unable to sense a good story. Lou Grant he's not. Joan Barclay, who was Lugosi's co-star in the Monogram effort "Black Dragons," has a small part as an afflicted, kidnapped bride.
"Corpse" has a great twist ending, with Urecal's character letting out frustration on Lugosi's "Jeckyl/Hyde" Lorenz. I agree with Lugosi biographer Arthur Lennig, that "Corpse..." would have been much better if more action had focused on the strange relationships between Lugosi, Russell, Urecal, Moran and Rossetti than the plodding romance between boring Coffin and Walters, but it's still a fun film to watch, often and oftener. Watch it above!
When it comes right down to it, enjoying Ed Wood is a patriotic act
By Doug Gibson Originally published on Feb. 29, 2008 in the Standard-Examiner (www.standard.net)
"We've seen 'Plan 9 From Outer Space' 15 times. Who can say that about an Emma Thompson film?"
— Comedians Penn and Teller, explaining why they're fans of Ed Wood
"Ed Wood," Tim Burton's quirky tale of the cross-dressing "world's worst director," was a flop at the box office. Yet years later, it boasts consistent DVD sales. That achievement is appropriate, since it is shared by the film's subject.
Filmmaker Ed Wood will be dead 30 years this year. When he died in Los Angeles, he owned only his name. He was homeless, his brain rotted with alcohol. His cinematic dreams were long gone. He was no longer fit to even work in pornography. His death was noted by no media.
But, only a few years later, a tiny Wood cult had grown into a pop phenomenon. His fame as "worst director" led to re-releases of his films. An oral, pop biography of Wood was published, TV documentaries of Wood were produced, the Burton film came out, a couple of his scripts were filmed by indy companies, and even several of Wood's long-forgotten '60s "trash" paperback novels were re-released. He is a subject of iconic art, too, as the "Plan 9 Crunch" painting by local artist Steve D. Stones shows.
The Wood-mania has peaked somewhat. The '60s books' re-releases are over. His films, etc., have moved back into a cult status, albeit a much larger one. Maybe that's a good thing. The first Wood boom, more than a generation ago, was initiated by a book "The Golden Turkey Awards" that made fun of the filmmaker. There was a smug, mocking attitude that Wood didn't deserve.
To be a cult icon requires that you not aspire to be a cult icon. It also requires a creative mind and a need to express that creativity that is audacious. I am a huge fan, but even I will not call "Plan 9" a technically great film. Still, it is an audacious film from a very creative mind. Its sometimes laugh-out-loud ineptitude derives from the creative instincts of a director who had neither the money nor the time to transmit his imagination to the screen.
"Plan 9," which cost about $50,000 to make, involves aliens from outer space raising the dead to warn mankind of the threat of nuclear weapons. Another Wood opus, "Glen or Glenda," is Wood's desperate plea of tolerance for cross-dressers. If we just allowed our mailman to wear satin undies, argues Wood, he could be a better member of his community and a credit to his government.
Does that make sense? If it did, part of Wood's charm would be lost.Wood had a more conventional side. He was a friend to an aging, drug-addicted Bela Lugosi, acting as agent to the ex-"Dracula" star and striving to get him roles in films, including his own. In the '50s and '60s, Wood directed TV commercials, industrial films and even Los Angeles Mayor Sam Yorty's show on local TV. He penned screenplays for low-budget films.
But alcohol grabbed Wood in a vise, and he gravitated toward low-budget porn. To add income, he penned more than 100 paperback novels. Written in unique syntax, seemingly in a single draft, they are a helter-skelter blend of sex, hyperbole and action. Imagine Elmore Leonard without an editor.
Wood never earned more than a few hundred dollars for each novel. Today, originals of his '60s novels sell for close to $1,000. Some of the best include "Devil Girls" and "Hollywood Rat Race."
In the '70s, Wood slid into boozy oblivion and worked in porno before he died in 1978. As an eighth-grader in 1977, living in Long Beach, I almost called him. I was doing a report on Lugosi, and Wood's name surfaced in a biography. I decided I had enough information for a junior high report. Not taking the chance to speak to Ed Wood remains one of my great regrets.
So, have I convinced you to give Ed Wood a try? If so, check out his films "Plan 9 From Outer Space," "Glen or Glenda" and "Bride of the Monster." Laugh at the low-budget absurdity, but take note of the creativity. And watch Burton's film "Ed Wood." It's over-romanticized, but still a lot of fun.
And if I haven't convinced you to give Wood a try, may I appeal to your patriotism? Let's face it, if the Islamofascists ever take over, they'll destroy all copies of "Glen or Glenda!"
Gibson is the Standard-Examiner's opinioneditor. He can be reached at dgibson@standard.net.
All of these films are available via amazon for sale.
SANTO EN EL TESORO DE DRACULA: The 1969 Mexican masked wrestler battles with Dracula and a masked criminal in this insane, chaotic entry that blends time travel, the Lugosi Dracula tale and a search for Dracula's treasure in one convoluted flick. It's funnier than heck, though, particularly the time travel sequences, the cheesecake scenes of a Latina lovely in a sheer nighty, and the obligatory wrestling. And what's with that mask, Santo, do you ever take it off to sleep, shower, make love ...?
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THE MONSTER: The presence of Lon Chaney Sr. as a mad scientist/doctor who is using patients at a sanitarium the imprison several is reason enough to watch this too-often stagy adaptation of a popular comedy thriller stage play of that era, 1925. Johnny Arthur, a comedian of that era, provides the laughs but Chaney's menace and strong facial emotions dominate the film.
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THE SEX KILLER: Viewers will feel like they'll need a strong shower after watching this grimy, 1967 Barry Mahon directed "nudie roughie" filmed in that era just before grindhouses surrended and starting showing triple XXX. "The Sex Killer" would be an R today. It's about a loner who works in a manniquinn factory who progresses from peeping to rape and murder, although only breasts and flimsy nightwear is shown. The film is worth viewing only for the stark, lengthy shots of New York City in the 1960s. In fact, it's almost like a documentary of the city's grimy section of that era. The final scene, which scans the New Yorks business and industrial skyline, is great gonzo cinematography.
Plan9Crunch fans in Utah, make sure that you don't miss the inimitable Ed Wood's classic "Bride of the Monster." It airs Friday, Feb. 11, at 9 p.m. on UEN Channel 9's Sci-Fi Friday night. I love this threadbare film starring Bela Lugosi. It was his last speaking role! Also, cast in a bit part was Wood's soon-to-be-ex paramour Dolores Fuller. Lugosi gives it his all despite the rushed shooting schedule and very low budget. Tor Johnson lumbers around effectively and the "Monster" certainly looks different up close compared to its stock shots But it's a film you can't hate, and like everything Wood made -- IT IS UNIQUE!
Here's a short review: This 1955 film is probably the best film Ed Wood directed in a technical sense. An emaciated, drug-addicted Bela Lugosi gives it his all in an inspiring performance as embittered, exiled mad scientist, Dr. Eric Vornoff, who "vill perfect ... a race of atomic superman who vill rule the vorld!" Tor Johnson, all 500-pounds of him, lumbers around the cheap sets menacing a young lovely newsgal with a detective for a boyfriend. Rubber octopuses and a photo enlarger substitute for a monster and an atomic energizer.
This column was originally published in the Oct. 20, 2006 edition of The Standard-Examiner.
75 years later, Lugosi's Dracula is the one who spooks us each
By Doug Gibson "No, no — Dracula never ends. I don't know if I should call it a fortune or a curse, but it never ends."
— Bela Lugosi, 1951
Truer words were never spoken by the Hungarian actor. The irony was, by 1951, the heart of Lugosi's career had been pierced with a far sharper stake than Dracula ever endured.
When I was a child, the three kings of horror films were Boris Karloff, who played the monster in "Frankenstein," Lon Chaney Jr., the wolf man, and Lugosi's "Dracula" vampire. What a treat it was to discover their films — on the local independent TV station — past midnight or on a Saturday morning.
Chaney Jr.'s wolf man has faded in memories, as far scarier versions have been found in London and Hogwarts. Karloff's monster is still recognized. But the screen monster who resides longest in our nightmares remains Lugosi's vampire. Imitators such as Christopher Lee, John Carradine, Frank Langella and Gary Oldman are quickly forgotten. We always return to the Hungarian.
Today is Lugosi's birthday, in the heart of the Halloween season. He has been dead 50 years. When he died he was a destitute, recovering drug addict. His last real screen role was as a bit player — a mute to be pitied in a barrel-scraping horror film. TV rescued the legacy of "Dracula." Whether it was on "Thriller Theater" or "Creature Features," millions of "monster boomer" kids discovered the Universal monsters.
I chatted with "monster boomer" Frank J. Dello Stritto, co-author of "Vampire Over London: Bela Lugosi in Britain." Dello Stritto is also an essayist on classic cinema horror. Many are compiled in a book, "A Quaint & Curious Volume of Forgotten Lore."
Dello Stritto reminds us that Lugosi — a veteran of more than 100 films — only played a vampire in three — twice as Dracula. Part of Lugosi's success as Dracula, he says, is that the vampire seems to be from another era.
"(Lugosi) put into his performance a lot of subtle touches to make Dracula seem from another world: the odd pace of his speech, the use of his cape, his very slow movements compared to the other cast members' ... A lot of actors who play Dracula are ordinary men trying to appear extraordinary, and not quite succeeding," explains Dello Stritto. "Lugosi's character is like Dracula himself — an extraordinary being trying to appear ordinary, and again not quite suceeding."
I have seen "Dracula" scores of times, and Lugosi is the key to the film. He is a tall, courtly, menacing figure who promises a fate worse than death. And that is the appeal of these early horror films compared to the sadistic gore-fests of today — a fate worse than death awaits the vampire's victims. That fate is conveyed to perfection in the scene where Lugosi's vampire murders actor Dwight Frye's cringing, pathetic, mad disciple Renfield. Dracula's exterior is charming. But his filthy interior attracts darkness, fog, storm, chill winds, rodents, flies, spiders, blood and undeath.
Dracula made Lugosi rich for a while; but as he said, it was also a curse. He was too often typecast as a villain, or red-herring, in low-budget films. After 1940, he only starred in three top-tier productions. Nevertheless, he was actor enough to give 100 percent in every film. For those whose knowledge of Lugosi ends with "Dracula," here are a few other films worthy of Halloween viewings:
* "White Zombie" — In this creepy 1932 thriller, Lugosi plays "Murder" Legendre, a Haitian Mephistopheles figure who enslaves zombies to work his plantations and factories. A lovesick man brokers a Faustian deal with Legendre to win the love of a girl, with terrifying consequences. This is a very low-budget film that proved to be a monster hit — sort of like "The Blair Witch Project" was 67 years later. Lugosi biographer Gary Don Rhodes has devoted an entire book to this film.
* "The Devil Bat" — As mentioned, after 1940, Lugosi made a string of low-budget horror/mysteries for B- and C- movie studios. One of the better ones was 1940's "The Devil Bat," from the long-defunct Producers Releasing Corporation. The plot of "Devil Bat" involves a mad, brooding scientist creating mutant bats to kill his employers.
Although prominent today, thanks to DVD and channels such as Turner Classic Movies, these films originally played in rural America or small towns. In the big cities, they were often relegated to matinees. So while Lugosi could still be called a "star," his reputation — and pocketbook — were taking a slow beating. The films lacked the budget, talent and special effects to be creepy, but Lugosi is great.
"Even in his worst films, Lugosi often manages to project something memorable and out of the ordinary. Lugosi studied and made notes on his scripts, looking for something special that he might get into a part," says Dello Stritto.
Other low-budget Lugosi films worth viewing are "Bowery at Midnight," "The Corpse Vanishes," "Voodoo Man" and "The Ape Man."
* "Abbott and Costello Meet Frankenstein" — This 1948 horror-comedy is a great film to introduce Lugosi to younger viewers. As Count Dracula, he is a magnificent menace. His strength? Lugosi keeps Dracula in character, and never allows the monster to be laughed at. The humor comes from the reactions of Abbott and Costello. Also in the film are Chaney Jr.'s wolf man and Glenn Strange's Frankenstein monster.
This was Lugosi's final major Hollywood film. It was a hit and rejuvenated Abbott and Costello's career. Unfortunately, Universal decided Lugosi deserved no credit, and he could not find another big-screen role for four years.
* "Bride of the Monster" — This is a terrible movie, directed by the infamous Ed Wood — immortalized by Johnny Depp as the worst director ever. However, if you appreciate Bela Lugosi, see this 1955 film. It is his last starring role, and it will move you to see this frail, emaciated, drug-addicted old man giving it his all in this micro-budget film. After production wrapped, Lugosi checked himself into a rehab center to battle a 20-year addiction to painkillers. As bad as the film is — a photo enlarger is an atomic ray, stock shots don't match, hokey dialogue, amateurish acting, a broken octopus machine — like most of Wood's films, it is strangely watchable. The best you can say about Ed Wood is that he was both bad ... and unique.
Appreciating Bela Lugosi is a trait best learned early, explains Dello Stritto. "It pays to get hooked on Lugosi when you're young. That's when a viewer is most easily swept up by his particular energy. For that reason, 'Abbott and Costello Meet Frankenstein' cannot be overestimated in its importance in perpetuating the legacy of both Lugosi and the classic monsters. For me and countless others like me, this was the movie that hooked us as kids and made us come back for more."
But it's not too late for even adults. If you haven't spent some time with the screen's greatest monster, this Halloween season is the perfect first date — just watch your neck.
Gibson is the Standard-Examiner's assistant editorial page editor. He can be reached at dgibson@standard.net.
