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Showing posts with label Classic horror. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Classic horror. Show all posts

Saturday, July 17, 2021

The Passion of the Mummy: An interview with author Frank Dello Stritto

 


I am holding in my hands a gem of a gem of a book entitled "The Passion of the Mummy," by Frank Dello Stritto, published this year from Cult Movies Press. Frank has written cult/classic horror genre books. This is his third work that examines an iconic figure from vintage film and creates a decades-long history of the personality. He previously did it with Lawrence Talbot, the Wolf Man, and Carl Denham, the man who brought King Kong to New York City.


To write these books (I am honored to have helped proof them) is an amazing work of research and talent. He must watch scores of genre-related films, command a knowledge of literature and lore in the subjects, accurately describe global and national history of the times he writes about, and craft a tale that hooks a reader early and satisfaction that grows through the reading process. 


A short review: I likely will pen a longer one in the future:


The "Passion of the Mummy" (Amazon link) describes a narrator who very early in his life feels a deep connection while viewing the remains of the mummy, Kharis, in a Manhattan museum. As he grows older, well into adulthood, the connection deepens, and grasps the attentions of supernaturally inclined groups and individuals around the world; some willing to help our narrator, others seeking his destruction.


I have yet to meet a film scholar with both the ability to absorb so much legion of information from scores of films, and then take the knowledge accumulated, with the settings, events and characters, and weave a vastly entertaining, suspenseful narrative that flows as smoothly as whatever your favorite novelist writes. Genre fans must read this book (and the others). It's a crime to miss out on them.


--- Doug Gibson


HERE IS OUR PLAN9CRUNCH INTERVIEW WITH FRANK


1) Tell me about the research that goes into creating this tale of Kharis. You explain a lot in the Postscript but I'd like to know how many movies and books, and historical lore, is researched and either included or cast aside. I guess I am asking, what kind of plot characters and ideas do you consider and then decide not to use?


I don’t know which comes first: the monsters or the theme. The theme of my first novel, A WEREWOLF REMEMBERS, is an individual’s struggle with a difficult family history. In CARL DENHAM’S GIANT MONSTERS, an elderly man knows his time is limited, but still hopes for one last adventure and for redemption. Behind the tale of Kharis is the quest for immortality. Would you choose to live forever—in this world—if you could? The characters in THE PASSION OF THE MUMMY ask that. Kharis never asked for it, and his immortality is a living hell.


Mummy movies have immortal beings and mortals seeking immortality. Those movies—the five from Universal (The Mummy, The Mummy’s Hand, The Mummy’s Tomb, The Mummy’s Ghost and The Mummy’s Curse) and the five from Hammer (The Mummy, Curse of the Mummy’s Tomb, The Mummy’s Shroud, and Blood from the Mummy’s Tomb,  plus She, which is not a mummy movie)—form the core of the story. I brought in other movies, like Pharaoh’s Curse, as they help the narrative.


Except for time frame—I try to stay in the classical period of horror movies—I don’t decide what can’t get into my story. Around the core movies, I tend to cram in all that I can. Readers seem to love it when characters from movies and television shows that have nothing to do with the main plot pop up.

 

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2) I love the use of characters outside The Mummy genre. Explain why Tarneverro of The Black Camel is a great choice for the early mentor of sorts to our narrator. What about Theodora of The Haunting makes her a strong choice to enter the narrative. I love that you even used a character from The Hunger, a more contemporary, mostly forgotten film, and used material from a Twilight Zone episode. That to me spells tremendous research.


My “historical novels” seek to marry two universes: the real world in which we live and the world inside the plots of the movies and television. Imagine that what we watch on the screen is only a window to an alternate world. What we don’t see in that window is the characters’ lives before and after the plots of the movies. Outside of our view, characters from different movies meet and interact. Now, for me, that does not require a great deal of research. As a child I always thought of the world inside my TV shows and movies that way. So, I guess, that leg of the research has been going on my head for my whole life. So, did Kharis and Im-ho-tep know each other—why not?  Ananka and Ankh-es-en-amon were sisters—the movies tell us that both were daughters of Pharaoh Amenophis—so they knew each other. And so on.


As I develop my plots, whenever I need characters, I don’t invent them. I pluck them from somewhere in the movies, and they bring their personalities and personal histories with them.


For THE PASSION OF THE MUMMY, I needed someone who could read minds. Well, Theodora from The Haunting fit that just right. She is a strong, modern woman who could stand up to any man and that’s what I needed


I needed a character to guide the narrator into the strange world of the supernatural. I needed a sage, someone fascinated by the modern world but not really part of it. Bela Lugosi’s screen persona fit that well, and Tarneverro—a mystic, a rather obscure Lugosi portrayal—was what I needed.


The research in the alternate world is studying the movies. There’s a lot of detail in them—place names, dates, incidental data—that is easily overlooked. I note that all and get it into my plots.


For THE PASSION OF THE MUMMY, the hard research was learning about Egypt and Egyptology. All during the two years or so that I wrote the book, I was reading books on those subjects. I think layering that knowledge into the plot gives the book a lot more depth.   

 

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3) Women are far stronger and more viciously evil characters in The Passion of the Mummy saga. Did their contrast with men who were weak, or stoic sufferers, provide interest to you? 


I did not realize how little I knew about horror movies based on ancient Egypt—mummy movies and others—until I started developing the plot for my book. When I collected all the plots together, I saw that the immortal men—living mummies—are tragic and to be pitied. The immortal women are much more dangerous. Pamela Mason in The Twilight Zone episode “Queen of the Nile,” Marian Blaylock in The Hunger, Queen Tera in Blood from the Mummy’s Tomb, Simira in Pharaoh’s Curse, Ayesha in She—you don’t want to tangle with them. They are not mummies. They’re living among us and in some cases feeding on us.


Add to the male mummies, the priests of the cults that tend to them. In the Universal movies, these men are dreaming of immortality. In three of the movies, they betray their vows to unsuccessfully attempt it. They all come to bad ends.


So, the priests are grasping at immortality, the mummies—all male—suffer under it, while what I call in the book “the demon women” are laughing at them through the centuries.


And then there are the princesses of the Universal movies, Ankh-es-en-amon and her sister Ananka. We can’t judge from the movies whether they are evil or not, but their spirits are trying to get back into this world. That become an element of the plot.

 

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4) Did you ever consider making Im-ho-tep the central character? Or was the much larger material on Kharis through so many films make him a deeper, more interesting subject?


Kharis appears in four movies, and Im-ho-tep in only one. So, I certainly had a lot more to work with for Kharis. The problem with using Im-ho-tep is that at the end of his sole movie, The Mummy, he is reduced to rubble by the goddess Isis. Most of my story is set in the modern day. So unless I wanted to bring Im-ho-tep back from the hereafter, I could not use him except in flashbacks.


Kharis—when last seen at the end of The Mummy’s Curse—has fallen into a dormant state and is carted off to the Scripps Museum of Manhattan. My book begins with a grammar school class trip to the Scripps, where something odd kicks off the plot.


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5) What are some the films you really enjoyed mixing into the plot of this book? I sense your affection for Abbott & Costello and I personally enjoyed the club scene.


There’s always room for Abbott & Costello in my books. So far, they have appeared in all my novels. They make it easy since they made so many movies with monsters. ABBOTT & COSTELLO MEET THE MUMMY provided the setting for the finale of my book.


Theodora—Claire Bloom’s character in The Haunting (1963)—proved a particularly good fit. Her character almost wrote itself when I introduced her. Her back-and-forth with Tarneverro was fun to write. They really match each other.


I get a kick out of bringing in characters from The Twilight Zone. There are so many of them that finding ones that fit my needs is easy. Pamela Mason—the undead succubus from the “Queen of the Nile” episode—was exactly the character I needed for my story.


To fill in the narrative and give some dimension to the story, I looked for non-mummy movies set in Egypt. I was glad to get Five Graves to Cairo into the story since it is a favorite film of mine. Think of what we see on movie screens as a window into an alternate world—then Indiana Jones adventure in Egypt to find the lost Ark, and the excavations mentioned in Five Graves to Cairo are happening at the same time.


Actor Eduardo Ciannelli played the aged high priest in The Mummy’s Hand, and I wanted to bring him into the book. Not an easy task since the plot takes place in America in the modern day. But I finagled that a bit by using a Ciannelli character from another movie. Perhaps not the best fit, but I think I pulled it off. No complaints, so far.


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6) Who are some of the characters through these any films you go through that you particularly admire. Were you able to show that admiration in your writing? What did you think of the Bannings, their expedition, Babe? I often thought Babe was the only courageous one in the second Kharis film.


Here’s the problem: to write a decent novel based on mummy movies, I had to learn a lot about Egyptology. Then, it becomes hard to watch most movie Egyptologists without laughing or crying. Steve Banning and Babe are fortune hunters. They use dynamite and pick axes to open the tomb. Then they blithely ship their loot off to New York without a peep from Egyptian authorities. None of that would happen in real life.


I like Steve and Babe better in the second film, when they are far away from Egypt and their blasphemies.


The only movie Egyptologists that I really admire are the ones in 1932’s The Mummy. There are the only ones that come close to what really goes on at actual digs.


I must say that I did develop an odd admiration for Alexander King, Fred Clark’s character in 1964’s Curse of the Mummy’s Tomb. Yes, he’s a showman and out for what he can get. But he does so with charm and honesty and is quite a contrast to the stuffy characters that are often seen in mummy movies. 


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7) Please offer any insights you want readers to know about. And what may be your next subject? Any ideas? Finally, that may be the best cover I have seen on a genre book. Three cheers to the artist.


Some readers have told me that THE PASSION OF THE MUMMY is the most romantic of my novels to date. I certainly didn’t plan it that way. Since Kharis’ curse is linked to his love for Ananka, I guess a romantic element had to bubble through the narrative. I’m glad that I didn’t think too much about it, and just let any romance simply follow from Kharis’ story.


The artist is George Chastain, who has done a lot of excellent work. He had done the dust jackets book cover and end page art for my three “historical novels” based on 1930s and 1940s horror movies. I owe him a lot. Something in George’s dust jacket cover art that I should point out. Two actors played Kharis in the Universal movies, Tom Tyler and Lon Chaney. The cover illustration of Kharis combines their features of their two faces. That was George’s concept and he pulled it off brilliantly.


I have started what may become my fourth novel. It is about zombie movies and will be titled Patron Saints of the Living Dead. This will be a challenge because there are no recurring characters in zombie movies, no multi-film sagas as used in my previous novels. Only a handful of individual films. Most horror movie fans can rattle off the zombie movies of the 1930s through the 1950s. When you bring in “voodoo movies”—that is, movies with voodoo but no zombies, the number almost doubles. And—to my surprise—it turns out that a lot of television series had zombie or voodoo-oriented episodes and I want to bring them in.


The challenge may be bringing in Abbott & Costello, who never met a zombie.


Thanks Frank. We appreciate your insights. Here is a link to Frank Dello Stritto on Plan9Crunch blog.


Saturday, April 24, 2021

'A Quaint & Curious Volume of Forgotten Lore' - a chat with author Frank Dello Stritto



We have a treat for Plan9Crunch readers. Film genre author and scholar Frank Dello Stritto chats with us about his book of essays, “A Quaint & Curious Volume of Forgotten Lore: The Mythology & History of Classic Horror Films,” Cult Movies Press, 2003.  Frank has written several books, including a memoir of being a "Monster Boomer," "I Saw What I Saw When I Saw It." Frank’s contributions have been invaluable to Plan9Crunch blog. Below this post will be links to reviews of his previous books..

“A Quaint & Curious Volume of Forgotten Lore, “ (buy it from the publisher here), covers many familiar staples of the genre, and some you may not be as familiar with. Here's a few sample essays: "The Dracula That Never Ends"; "What Good is a Brain Without Eyes to See"; and "Angel or Father? Friend or Phantom?" 

The book is a wonderful read. Here we go with the interview!

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1) Bela Lugosi remains the most iconic Dracula, despite playing the role only twice on film. There are no videos of his stage performances. How does he retain that status in a film that you and others have described as stagey, particularly compared to more lush action-oriented adaptations, such as Horror of Dracula and Bram Stoker’s Dracula?

Dello Stritto: Lugosi is the most iconic Dracula, but I always have to remind myself that he is not everyone’s favorite Dracula. That’s another story. Lugosi’s Dracula would be an even more iconic figure but for the Lugosi vs. Universal lawsuit that challenged the studio’s use of his likeness in its products. That’s another story, too.

Of course, Lugosi was perfect for the role, and he had a lot of experience with the character before he made the movie—almost 500 stage performances. In addition to being a fine actor, his Old World style and pace ideally fit the part. And then there is the accent. So, no one could touch him.




Unfortunately, the definitive Dracula did not appear in the definitive Dracula movie. But for all the 1931 Dracula’s flaws, its first 15 minutes—Renfield goes to the castle, and falls victim to Dracula and his wives—is certainly among the best effective sequences in all of horror films. The movie gets slow and disjointed after that, and Lugosi is not seen all that much. But he’s off to a great start.

Do not underestimate the importance of Lugosi’s second screen Dracula, in Abbott & Costello Meet Frankenstein, in his legacy. That’s the movie that hooked me as a Lugosi fan, and it hooked a lot of others as well. I was once on a panel of Lugosi experts, and five of the six of us discovered Lugosi in Abbott & Costello Meet Frankenstein. He is great in a great movie.

If Dracula has one of the best beginnings of any horror film, Abbott & Costello Meet Frankenstein has one of the best endings, as Dracula and The Wolf Man battle, and Frankenstein’s Monster chases Abbott & Costello through the castle.  So, Lugosi’s Dracula starts and ends with a bang.

I wish more people would see Lugosi’s other screen vampire in Return of the Vampire. He is Dracula in everything but name. He is very good in that, and his three vampire movies in sequence form an unintentional trilogy. Again, that’s another story.

Lugosi could not shed his accent or his screen persona. Almost every role he played reminded audiences of Dracula. That was a curse on him personally, but kept Dracula alive between absences from the movies.

Lugosi’s three screen vampires are black & white, with special effects today seen as primitive, and barred by higher powers from showing anything provocative. One of the faults of Dracula is that we are told too much, and shown too little.

Comparisons to the Technicolor, sexy, hi-tech more recent versions of Dracula of course puts Lugosi at a disadvantage. But those “new” movies are now themselves getting old, and the gimmicks are wearing thin. Once the shock value is gone, what’s left? Dracula. And stripped of all the glitz, Lugosi’s Dracula is the best. For me at least.

Something else keeps Lugosi’s Dracula iconic. His is the only Dracula that can really be imitated. Comedians, the Count on Sesame Street, Count Chocula, Count Floyd, and so on.  They are homages to Lugosi, and keep the icon going.

 

2) In your opinion, how would a Robert Florey-directed Frankenstein have contrasted from James Whale's creation? And would, in your opinion, a Florey-directed film with Lugosi as The Monster been as memorable and iconic as the film we have?

Dello Stritto: The short answer is ‘No.’ I don’t think the combination of James Whale and Boris Karloff is possible to beat. What would a Florey Frankenstein have done with The Monster? Allegedly, Lugosi resisted The Monster role because in the script he was shown, it was simply not much of a part. The Monster became the character we know after Whale took over from Florey. And if Lugosi is a better Dracula than Karloff could ever be, so Karloff is a better Monster than Lugosi—or in fact—anybody else.

We almost have a Florey Frankenstein in Murders in the Rue Morgue. Lugosi is very fine in that movie, but none of the characters have the depth of those in Whale’s Frankenstein. That’s what sets the Whale Frankenstein apart.

We have a Whale film with a simplified monster in The Old Dark House. Karloff’s character doesn’t do much more than grunt. It is a good movie—same as Murders in the Rue Morgue—but both lack the depth that makes Frankenstein a classic.

 

3) Lionel Atwill was a key horror star in the early 1930s, with Mystery of the Wax Museum, Doctor X, Murders in the Zoo, and The Vampire Bat? The first three are, in my opinion, particularly horrific pre-code films. Atwill possessed menace, single-mindedness, callousness, and brutish force in the various films. Why, in your opinion, did he fade as a major horror antagonist, and play secondary roles in iconic horror films the final decade-plus of his life?

Dello Stritto: Atwill did not so much fade as a horror star as rise as an A-list character actor. His last horror of the early 1930s was a small role in Mark of the Vampire (1935). His movie just before that was The Devil Is A Woman, second billed to Marlene Dietrich. That same year, he was third-billed as the villain in the first of Errol Flynn swashbuckler, Captain Blood. He did a lot in character roles at MGM. Karloff and Lugosi might well have envied Atwill’s 1930s career.




He never had an iconic horror role like Karloff (Frankenstein) or Lugosi (Dracula), and so he was never as identified with the genre. His career arc was somewhat like Peter Lorre’s. They dabbled in horror, but only retreated to it as their main activity late in their careers (though Lorre did it about 20 years after Atwill). Interpret “horror” rather broadly, and include in it “scary comedies” and offbeat melodramas in weird settings. (Above, Atwill is (at left) with Basil Rathbone in Son of Frankenstein.)

Atwill’s star was setting when he co-starred in Son of Frankenstein (1939). After that, his horror output increased until his death in 1946. Even then he got good roles in non-horror roles, like To Be or Not To Be.

But for his horror roles, Atwill might be remembered somewhat like Edward Arnold: a fine character actor who had good roles through the 1930s and 1940s, but is remembered mainly for the support he gave to bigger stars. But the horror cult, as it does for so many actors and actresses who might otherwise be almost forgotten, gives Atwill a popularity long beyond his life span.   

 

3) John Barrymore is so good as Svengali. But the character is, as you put it a generation ago, a forgotten horror icon. That still stands today. Do you think Svengali has a future in current film or stage? Is the anti-Semitism still preventing that or could an adaptation without the Svengali described in Trilby and performed by Barrymore be successful? And also, expound on how you think the vampire assumed Svengali-like traits in film, perhaps squeezing that character from the genre?

Dello Stritto: The novel Trilby was published in 1894. Two things about it: as best as the numbers can be documented, it was probably the best-selling novel of the 19th Century. And of the great horror novels of its day—again, interpret “horror” as broadly as you like—Trilby is undoubtedly the poorest written. I think the sun has set on the story. I have read all the classic horror novels more than once, and may read them again. But once for Trilby was enough. Not because of any anti-Semitism—you can find that in a lot of old novels. You can find it in the novel Dracula and The Invisible Man. Trilby is just not a good novel.

Could a successful new adaptation appeal to today’s audience. Maybe, but I don’t expect it.

Barrymore is a fine Svengali, but for a good amount of his performance, he plays the part for laughs. The other great horror performances of 1931—Lugosi’s Dracula, Karloff’s Monster, Colin Clive’s Dr. Frankenstein, Fredric March’s Jekyll & Hyde—are deadly serious. Dwight Frye’s two roles that year—Renfield in Dracula and Fritz in Frankenstein—can make audiences laugh, but that’s the character, not the actor. Barrymore’s performance just doesn’t stand with them. The others become their characters. Barrymore seems to be saying, “watch me play this character.”




Now, vampires taking on Svengali traits. Dracula, in the 1897 novel, hypnotizes no one. He more haunts the soul then controls the mind. Svengali is the hypnotist of the 19th Century. By the time the film Dracula appears in 1931, mind control is central to the vampire’s powers. A year later came White Zombie, where the zombie master—again Lugosi—is controlling minds. Horror movies—mainly vampire movies—made mind-control, whether by hypnosis, drugs or the supernatural, a common plot element. Trilby introduced the idea, but others do it better.

Having said all that, Barrymore and Svengali are certainly worth watching, and are important in early horror films. I won’t read the novel again, but will probably see the movie. Give Trilby credit for one great achievement: “Svengali” had entered our lexicon, and is probably there to stay.

 

4) Taking away the Abbott and Costello adaptations, explain how Universal managed to keep the Mummy and Invisible Man films at a level of competence that kept horror viewers watching them through the 1940s, a decade after the original classics aired? Was there just a little bit of a kitsch factor that entertained audiences?

Dello Stritto: Of course, Universal, like all the major Hollywood studios, was basically a factory. It used the same reliable technicians in film after film. Sometimes, casting the roles didn’t quite work, but the acting was usually more than adequate. Directors were of varying quality, but they were usually so limited by the budgets and schedules that they had to stay close to the basics. So, the factory put out a product of more or less consistent quality. A lot of the quality of the films boils down to the script.

Kitsch-appeal. That’s a personal decision, but kitsch is not a factor in my appreciating them.  The people that love these films usually fell for them at an early age, when they sat in awe of the weird tales. They grow up, and the “science” in the movies creaks a bit, and the melodramatics wear thin. But the initial awe is still what draws them back. Now 80 years or so after their first release, they are period-pieces that harken back to a long-gone age. Some might call that kitsch, and that’s fine. But kitsch or camp does not figure in my appreciation. (See Lon Chaney's Kharis below.)




The appeals of the Mummy films and the Invisible Man movies are quite different. The four Kharis films all share a key plot element: the high priest, assigned to control Kharis, abandons his vows to pursue a woman. Reworking the idea through four films might get a bit old, but the Kharis saga does evolve. He actually grows mentally through the films. He goes from guardian, to avenger, to frustrated lover. Then midway through the saga, Princess Ananka—only talked about in the first films—becomes a major character. So, the changing plots keep the series interesting. Though by the last film, the series was running low on energy.

The Invisible Man is a different individual in each movie. Alone of the Universal monster series, there are no recurring characters—not even the invisible man. That gave Universal a lot of freedom, which the writers exploited. So, film-to-film, the invisible man goes from a struggling scientist to an industrialist to a spy in Nazi Germany to a paranoid killer. And, of course, once the invisible one is a woman. And Universal got playful with the casting. A lot of familiar faces from Universal’s other monster movies are in the series, but so are John Barrymore, Peter Lorre, Gail Sondergaard, and Oskar Homolka (and a few others). So the been-there-done-that malaise that affects the other series is not as nearly evident with the Invisible Man films.

  

5) I love the chapter of the vampire films of the early 1940s. It took me years to locate a copy of The Vampire’s Ghost after I read that chapter, for example. Now, today, you can buy a Blu Ray version. Does it surprise you that these poverty-row films from Monogram, Republic and PRC have Blu Ray films, or is it part of a new evolution in fandom? Also, do Blu Rays enhance the viewing experience for you?

Dello Stritto: I must confess that I know nothing about the economics of producing and selling DVDs or Blu Ray discs. I heard once that producing them costs about 10¢ per disc. I don’t know, but if the cost is so low compared to the selling price, I am not surprised to see the old films in new mediums. Plenty of collectors simply must have their movies in the latest format, and plenty of people want personal libraries of monster and horror movies, good or bad. 

About enhancing the experience, I have to laugh. I used to watch the movies that I write about on an old black-&-white television with so-so reception and a very small screen. If my father and mother watched with me, I ceded the seat right in front on the TV to them, and I sat on the side. Not only was the small picture a little fuzzy, but I was watching it at an angle.

So, I appreciate the superior quality of a Blu Ray, but don’t need it to enjoy the film. A downside of Blu Rays and big screens is that sometimes you can see the make-up on the actors or the line where their hairpieces meet their scalps. But again, if I can live with lousy reception, I can certainly live with that.

A lot of the today’s movies, especially with CGI, probably benefit from Blu Ray quality. I certainly see my share of them, but most of the movies I write about don’t really need it.

 

6) Explain how The Great Depression and political and cultural tensions contributed to the movement against horror films in Britain in the early and mid '30s?

Dello Stritto: Let me make a confession. On the British “ban” of horror movies in the 1930s, I have written one magazine article and one chapter in a book, and given two talks, and I still don’t think I have gotten it quite right. The pressure on studios to drop horror was probably as strong in America as in Britain. But in Britain, it made headlines, whereas in Hollywood it largely between the censors and the studios. So, the definitive history has yet to be written.

Now, to address your question, The Great Depression and the coming of sound films hit the film studios at about the same. Sound made movies more realistic, and the Depression forced film makers to become more daring to draw people into theatres. Horror had a hard time with censors, but so did several film genres—gangster films, “bad girl” films, social message films, and even jungle dramas where scantily-clad people swung through trees. In Britain, horror films attracted most attention, but pressure was on all of them. Tarzan movies, for example, were all rated “Adult” by the British Board of Film Censors.

Any “political tension” in the mix comes from the fact that American movies dominated in British theatres. Most movies in French were made in France; most movies in German were made in Germany. Where were most movies in English made—well, not in Britain. Aggravating the situation is that the British film industry was under the thumb of the very conservative BBFC. That is why in lists of the great films of the 1920s and 1930s, Britain is under-represented. Creativity was suppressed in British movies, and a lot of it was edited out of foreign imports, including imports from America.

The “cultural tension” may be simply that young moviegoers—those supposedly to be protected from horror films—loved them. And not only horror movies—the alleged vulgarities from Hollywood were more popular than some watch dog groups can tolerate.

Sometimes, “cultural tensions” are wars between what trickles down from above—from the elites and intelligentsia—and what bubbles up from below—the showmen and the vaudevillians. So what did Hollywood do: it took British novels like Dracula, Frankenstein, Dr. Jekyll & Mr. Hyde, The Invisible Man, etc., and simplified them, popularized them and served them up to a mass audience.

All the horrors were rated “Adult,” which meant that anyone under 16 had to be accompanied by someone over 16. Young people got around that restriction easily. Stories abound of young boys beating the system. A new rating was needed. “H” came into effect on January 1, 1937, and forbade anyone under 16 from entering a theatre showing a horror film, that is a film given an “H” by the BBFC.

The irony is that by the time the “H” came into effect, horror films had fallen into eclipse by pressures in Britain, America and elsewhere. Of course, they came back big in late 1938 with the reissue of Dracula and Frankenstein on a double bill. And that, of course, is another story. 

Interview conducted by Doug Gibson

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Thanks Frank, and we look forward to your new book, scheduled to arrive on June 1, “The Passion of the Mummy.” 


Here are review links to Frank Dello Stritto books:


Vampire Over London: Bela Lugosi in Britain , co-written with Andi Brooks.


I Saw What I Saw When In Saw It ... a memoir


A Werewolf Remembers: The Testament of Lawrence Stewart Talbot


Carl Denham's Giant Monsters




Sunday, August 30, 2020

Scared to Death: Bela Lugosi in 'natural color'


Observations by Doug Gibson

Look above you, readers, and you see a newspaper ad -- from the Bakersfield Californian -- for a "spook show." at midnight on July 4, 1957. On stage will be Dr. London's Inner Sanctum Hour. On the screen is "Scared to Death," with Bela Lugosi headlined. The ad states it's "in gory color."

A woman dies in "Scared to Death," sans gore, and a couple of the cast gets a knock on the head. It is indeed in color, Cinecolor, a cheap film system used mostly for nature and westerns. In fact, it was advertised as "Natural Color" often, including in the Chula Vista Star in an ad on July 11, 1947 below. Incredibly, it was the co-feature to "Suddenly It's Spring," with Fred MacMurray Paulette Goddard!



Golden Gate Pictures released "Scared to Death" in 1947 even though it was completed in 1946. I know a lot of genre fans that enjoy the film. After many viewings, including another as I type this review, it has grown on me. But it can be a tough slog. It's an inside-the-house/sanitarium mystery that gives away the ending at the beginning. We see a woman, Laura Van Ee (Molly Lamont) who is dead at the morgue. Strangely enough, she serves as our narrator.

For about an hour we are inside the sanitarium house, which belongs to Dr. George Van Ee (George Zucco) whose son, Ward, is in a loveless marriage with Laura. It's an odd situation. The doctor and his son are treating Laura, but she claims to be a prisoner. Ward wants a divorce, but Laura refuses. She seems to always be very stressed out. Lionel Atwill was originally cast as Dr. Joseph Van Eee, but died in late April of 1946.

A rather dumb cop, played by Nat Pendleton for comic effect, is providing security at the house. He's smitten with a mostly disinterested maid, played by Gladys Blake. Bela Lugosi, as Prof. Leonide, arrives at the house with a mute little person companion, Indigo, played by Angelo Rossitto. Lugosi gives every sign and appearance that he and Dr. Van Ee are enemies, or at least at odds over something or other. They verbally spar for a few minutes. It's fun to watch two old pros go at it in any film. But really nothing happens except it's agreed Lugosi's Leonide will lodge there awhile.

(Below is another ad for the film, from the July 11, 1947 San Bernardino, Calif. Sun. I like that it is accompanied by, presumably, a short called "Spooks to Me." I think the actual title is "Spook to Me," a Columbia Comedy short from 1945 starring Andy Clyde.)



Back to the plot of "Scared to Death:"  .... Someone appears to be gaslighting, Laura. She receives creepy mail packages, eerie messages, and a green floating head occasionally appears at windows. From time to time, Laura's corpse at the morgue breaks in for more narration. Eventually a fast-talking, aggressive-to-the-point-of-obnoxious newspaper reporter, played by Douglas Fowley, arrives with his ditzy girlfriend. He spends most of his time interrogating the various people in the house. His interview with Leonide is a highlight because Lugosi has good comic timing and is able to shift his pleasure to displeasure -- on discovering he's talking to a reporter -- in amusing fashion.

I enjoy this film now, mainly for Lugosi. He looks healthy, unique and just plain great in a very formal suit, cape and formal hat. He has the most acting energy of anyone in the cast. He speaks in the same style he used in the 1934 "Black Cat," placing emphasis and emotion on his lines at various appropriate times. His eyes are so expressive. Let's face it, Lugosi never gave anything other than his best in his films, even confusing films like "Scared to Death."

And it is very confusing to a first-time viewer. The film attempts to keep a scary atmosphere by using a few eerie-sounding musical chords of "DUN DA DUH!! a few times. With so many characters flitting around, plot twists -- some of which go nowhere, and such a low budget, the viewer can easily lose the plot thread for a while.

 I'm done summarizing the film. I will post a review/summary of "Scared to Death" that was published on June 8, 1947 by the Big Spring Daily Herald newspaper in Big Spring, Texas. The "review" is obviously part of the film's press packet that was probably just cut out by the editor of the newspaper section and placed on the page. Passing off studio-manufactured movie reviews as legit opinion in newspapers is not done today but I have seen a few 1940s' genre press kits in Cult Movies magazine and they include publicity movie "reviews" for willing press.


Here's a snippet if the review is too hard to read. It is "a picture designed especially to mystify and horrify even the most blase of audiences."

The Complete Films of Bela Lugosi, by Richard Bojarski, includes a review of Scared to Death from the New York Daily News. It reads in part, "Scared to Death is a horror film, just the sort of fare the Rialto Theater patrons go for. ... with sudden, unexplained disappearances, floating green masks that come and go at windows ..." The review adds that Lugosi and George Zucco "are old hands at this horror game."



I hope Lugosi got the biggest paycheck. Every ad I and my friend, David A Grudt (thanks for his help) found in archives always listed Bela in the type. Theater owners knew who exactly brought in the crowds.

With Lugosi and Zucco, a large house for a set, a woman in distress, and a decent supporting cast, I wish director Christy Cabanne had used his stars for a better plot. Maybe a Poverty Row version of a "Black Cat" type film with Zucco playing the Boris Karloff role. But that didn't happen.

As mentioned though, the film grows on you if you give it a few viewings. It may be the first film, until "Sunset Boulevard," narrated by a corpse. You can watch it below.


Wednesday, October 23, 2019

The Tingler is campy, creepy and scary in spots




Review by Doug Gibson

I love "The Tingler," and it's a staple of mine, and family, to watch every Halloween season. It's campy to the max. Vincent Price has that tongue firmly in his cheek but nevertheless it has a couple of genuinely scary moments. That's not easy to accomplish in deliberately campy films, and director William Castle deserves kudos.

The plot involves Price as a doctor who also serves as a coroner. He's researching how fear can causes changes in the body, particularly a severe arching in the spine. His research leads to the discovery of an organism created by fear, which is dubbed The Tingler. It sort of resembles a very large earwig. It's a credit to Castle's film that the Tingler is both campy and creepy. The Tingler can cause a lot of mayhem to a frightened person, but it can also be neutralized by screaming.

It's designed to stay in the body. When Price's doctor takes it out of a dead woman, a new form of mayhem and thrills develop.

Although there is an entertaining scene where The Tingler gets loose in a movie theater, the film revolves around six characters, two of which are superfluous; with another character less significant than three core characters: Price the doctor, and an unhappily married couple, a kept man (Philip Coolidge) and his deaf and mute wife, very creepily performed by Judith Evelyn. Price's character is married to an adulterous woman scheming to kill him. Other cast members include Price's assistant doctor and Price's sister in law. Those two are dating and in love.




I don't want to give much of the plot so viewers can enjoy the film. However, there are two very scary scenes. The first is one where Evelyn's deaf and mute wife is scared and is overwhelmed by the Tingler because she cannot scream. In this scene Castle adds color to the black and white film by making the blood very red. Later in the film there is another very scary scene involving the corpse of Evelyn's deaf and mute woman ... or is she dead?

As mentioned, the film is very campy. Price, trying to better understand fear, takes LSD and analyzes his reaction to it. (I wonder if this is the first mainstream release film with an LSD scene)? Price deliberately underplays his role; he almost seems bored at times and too conversational for all the bizarre-ness. That provides an over the top change with his LSD journey. Another early scene with Price and Coolidge casually, calmly conversing when Price is doing an autopsy on a recently executed man (in the prison, moments after the execution!) is delicious low-key camp. 

When the Tingler escapes and invades a theater, it allows director Castle to make the audience a part of the film. The screen goes dark and Price solemnly warns the audience that the Tingler is loose in their theater. He urges people to scream. Sixty years ago, Castle had some theater seats wired to provide a small shock or "tingling" to audience members. Others, perhaps theater staff, were asked to scream. It must have been a wild show for many. 

You can watch The Tingler at Amazon Prime or YouTube (for a fee). It's a really fun film to watch, perfect for a good-natured thrill and scare during Halloween season. It's just a great, witty, chilling little tale; the kind that made William Castle famous and the type of film that Vincent Price excelled in.

Wednesday, March 14, 2018

Creature Chronicles: The Black Lagoon Trilogy, a review



The Creature Chronicles – Exploring The Black Lagoon Trilogy - By Tom Weaver, David Schecter and Steve Kronenberg. (McFarland, 2018) McFarland's website is here. Order line: 800-253-2187. (Amazon link is here.)

Review by Steve D. Stones
Any die hard fan of The Creature From The Black Lagoon and its two sequels will find The Creature Chronicles, by Tom Weaver, David Schecter and Steve Kronenberg, to be a book of exhaustive reference and research to all things related to the trilogy of films. Lots of photographs, interviews, and biographies of actors and production crew fill the 394-page book. Everything you could ever what to know about the Gill Man can be found in this treasure trove of a book. The information contained in this book is absolutely overwhelming and detailed.

A wonderful introduction to the book was written by actress Julie Adams, who plays the shapely Kay Lawrence in the film. Adams mentions her love of classic horror films as a child, such as the time she saw Frankenstein (1931) in her home state of Arkansas. Adams saw her role in The Creature From The Black Lagoon as just another paying acting job and didn't think the film would go on to be regarded as a great classic some sixty-plus years later. Many of Adams' experiences of starring in The Creature From The Black Lagoon are documented in this book and her autobiography – The Lucky Southern Star: Reflections From The Black Lagoon (2009).


Producer William Alland attended a party at Orson Welles' home in 1940, where he revealed his idea for “The Sea Monster,” which was an early treatment for The Creature From The Black Lagoon. The story was obviously borrowed from King Kong (1933) and the silent classic – The Lost World (1925).

Creature Chronicles shows the many treatments the story and script went through before it was filmed and delivered to the screen. While producer Alland and director Jack Arnold were making It Came From Outer Space (1953), the script for The Creature From The Black Lagoon was being adapted and refined. In the first treatment by Maurice Zimm, the creature is referred to as “Pisces Man.” By the time the film was made, the creature is referred to as “Gill Man.”

Several writers wrote their own treatment of the story, as the book points out. Harry Essex was one of the writers who contributed a treatment. Both he and Arthur Ross contributed to the final script that made its way to the screen. Director Jack Arnold tried to take a lot of credit for the script, but Ross and Essex claim he contributed nothing to the final draft used in the film.

Plans to shoot The Creature From The Black Lagoon in color were being considered, but never came to fruition. Producer William Alland admitted many years later that The Creature From The Black Lagoon, along with other Jack Arnold-directed films such as Tarantula (1955), would have looked better in color. I happen to disagree with this analysis. The black and white treatment of Arnold's films, particularly The Creature From The Black Lagoon, give a look and feel that is unique for the time in which they were filmed in the 1950s.

It's interesting to note that the book points out that buxom brunette beauty Allison Hayes did a test screening for the role of Helen Dobson in the sequel - Revenge of The Creature (1955). The role was given to blonde actress Lori Nelson, who was barely out of her teens at the time she took the role.


Being a big fan of Hayes, I would have liked to see her in the Helen role, although I'm not sure the chemistry between her and actor John Agar as Professor Clete Ferguson, the animal trainer, would be very convincing. In my opinion, Hayes is a much better actress than Nelson. Although I have to admit that I do like Nelson in Hot Rod Girl (1956).

A critic of Agar once said: “I have to confess that John Agar was never one of my favorites. He always seemed . . . well, a little goofy. The awkward, stiff smile looked forced.” Revenge of The Creature was Agar's first science-fiction film. Agar also appeared in many other 1950s cult classics, such as Tarantula (1955), The Brain From Planet Arous (1957) and Invisible Invaders (1959).

I've always considered the third film, The Creature Walks Among Us (1956), to be the weakest of the three entries. This is usually the case in any trilogy of films. I've always found it a bit silly and bizarre that the creature at one point in the film walks around in what appears to be prison clothes or pajamas. It just doesn't seem to work. The design of the gill man in this film greatly deviates from the original design by sculptor Millicent Patrick used in the first film. The earliest design of the gill man was jokingly referred to as “The Pollywag,” and was later rejected for the Patrick design that we see on screen.

If you're a fan of The Creature From The Black Lagoon and its sequels, I highly recommend the book Creature Chronicles – Exploring The Black Lagoon Trilogy. The photographs in this book alone are worth the price of the book. Happy Reading.