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
