"Only in the infinity of the depths of a man's mind can we really find the answer."-- From the 1953 film Glen or Glenda, written, directed, produced, and starred in by Ed Wood, Jr.
Edward D. Wood, Jr., died homeless in 1978. The former "C" movie director was an alcoholic with a brain that had virtually wasted away from an excess of booze and disappointment. He expired on a friend's bed while his wife in the next room ignored his pleas for help. For the last several years of his life, the only writing, starring and directing jobs he had were for pornography. There was no mention of his death in the Hollywood press. He directed only six films that were made available to mainstream audiences, the last in 1960.
Now, flash to 2017: the late Edward D. Wood, Jr. -- known as Ed Wood -- has become a cottage industry. His films, most notably Glen or Glenda and Plan 9 From Outer Space, are major cult favorites selling thousands of copies a year. A film, Ed Wood, was made starring Johnny Depp as Ed. It was an Oscar winner. Wood's cheapie, near-pornography fiction paperbacks from the 1960s are collector's items. Reprints have been sold from outlets such as the Quality Paperback Book Club and Amazon. One of Wood's last screenplays, I Awoke Early the Day I Died, was filmed and stars Billy Zane of Titanic fame. There are webpages devoted to Wood. Popular film publications write about him. His short stories are being published. Films are being found, including Final Curtain..
So what made Ed Wood an American original, as he's described in Rudolph Grey's oral biography, Nightmare of Ecstasy: The Life and Art of Edward D. Wood, Jr. From the recollections of friends, lovers, acquaintances and colleagues, Grey treats readers to Wood's life. It's a bizarre, hilarious, eccentric and sad look at the most unique soul who ever left small town life to try and hit it big in Hollywood. Wood was a reverse Sammy Glick -- full of enthusiasm and drive but not with a Machiavellian soul. As a result, everything he touched turned to lead instead of gold.
A heterosexual transvestite, Wood fought the Japanese in World War 2 wearing a bra and panties under his soldier's garb. After the war, he spent a couple of years with a traveling carnival and then headed to Hollywood. In the late 1940s Wood was an extremely handsome, energetic man who had no trouble attracting a team of actors, most of whom would stay with him for more than a decade. They included an aging Bela Lugosi, Vampira, a slinky horror TV show host, a psychic named Criswell, Wood's girlfriend Dolores Fuller, a 400-pound Swedish wrestler named Tor Johnson, and veteran character actor Lyle Talbot.
Wood finagled his first feature deal by convincing exploitation film producer George Weiss to let him make a film about a sex change, which was new and in the news in 1950. Instead, Wood made Glen or Glenda, an absurd, surrealistic autobiographical film about his own transvestite tendencies. Weiss took it, added some bond- age scenes, and released it as I Changed My Sex. It bombed then, but gradually grew to become the one Ed Wood film that enjoyed a real cult audience while he was alive.
Grey's biography details Wood's life as a "one-lung" producer in 1950s Hollywood. It was raise a few thousand dollars, shoot for a few days, shut down, raise some more money, and shoot some more film. The book is fascinating for its anecdotes of how Ed saved costs. He stole a rubber octopus from another studio for his film Bride of the Monster. He stole scene shots at motels, streets and parks. He used stock footage from other films in abundance, which often gave his films a disjointed, out-of-sequence look.
Wood's tender friendship with the aging, penniless Lugosi shows his altruistic side. It was a sincere desire to assist his boyhood film idol maintain dignity in his last years. Grey's book is a real treat for Wood fans. It contains a listing of all his film projects, whether they got off the ground or not, and a complete summary of his novels and stories.
It's easy to laugh at Ed Wood's movies. And they do appear silly. But he doesn't deserve the smarmy humor that often accompanies critiques of Ed Wood films. Wood's films often seem ridiculous because he had neither the time, nor money needed, to make a real Hollywood production. But -- and this is important -- THEY ARE NEVER DULL. Plan 9 From Outer Space may seem silly with its hubcaps-for-flying-saucers, daylight-to-night shots and stilted dialogue, but its anti-war sci-fi plot -- aliens raise the dead to convince earth to stop building weapons -- would be a crazy, exciting film with a $50 million budget.
Grey's book demonstrates what a crazy, original idea man Ed Wood was. That's why, of the thousands of low budget offerings that dotted movie screens in the 1950s, Ed Wood is the survivor. Perhaps Penn and Teller summed it up best: "We've seen Plan 9 From Outer Space 15 times. Who can say the same thing about an Emma Thompson movie?"
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.
---
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!
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.
Glen Or Glenda, 1952, 67 minutes, BW, Screen Classics Productions. Directed by Edward D. Wood Jr.. Starring Bela Lugosi, Daniel Davis (Ed Wood), Lyle Talbot, Dolores Fuller, Timothy Farrell, Tommy Haines, Charles Crofts, Conrad Brooks, Captain DeZita. Schlock-Meter rating: 9 stars out of 10.
By Doug Gibson
I first saw Glen Or Glenda? when a copy of the video arrived as part of the press kit for the mid-90s film "Ed Wood." The copy was murky, very dark and difficult to understand. It also ended abruptly without any final credits. As a result, I wasn't too impressed.
However, I learned later there were better versions available with more of the film so I invested $10 and purchased Rhino Home Video's print. I saw a much different film that is a must for Ed Wood fans and an excellent addition to any cult movie library.
Like any other Ed Wood film, it's a ridiculous story, incomprehensible at times and very poorly acted. However, like any Ed Wood film, it is unique and the actors surprisingly inspired. The plot: A transvestite commits suicide while in drag. A cop talks with a psychiatrist, who tells the cop that society must seek to understand transvestites and those who seek to change their sex. The psychiatrist tells the cop two stories: One is of a secret tranvestite (Davis/Wood) who wants desperately to wear his fiance's (Fuller) angora sweater. The other tale recounted is of a WW 2 war hero (Haines) who wants a sex change operation. All of this is sort of overseen by a spirit (Lugosi) who sits in a chair covered with fishing net and ominously spouts nonsense like "snips and tails and puppy dog tails," "pull the string," and "the story must be told."
The acting is just awful. Wood's girlfriend Fuller doesn't rise to the level of an eighth grader playing Juliet. The scene of her expressing her mental torment when Wood asks to wear her sweater is pure camp. Throughout the film the uninhibited Wood strolls through Hollywood dressed in drag looking in store windows. The dialogue is atrocious: "Give this man satin undies ... and he can be a credit to his community and his government." Like many micro-budget productions, much of the film utilizes voice-over narration.
Still, it's a great cult fim and merits its nine stars on the schlock-meter. Wood's creative chaos is in full force and it makes for deliriously entertaining scenes. Stock footage just swirls throughout this fun film. There are shots of buffalo stampedes, steel mills pushing out hot metal, military battles, kids playing ball and more. Wood's frenetic energy keeps the pace fast. Indeed, the only time the film slows down is a few moments of cheescake semi-bondage scenes of women in underwear (not directed by Wood) that producer George Weiss added for the "raincoat" crowd.
Cult movie fans will love the montage scenes where Glen dreams of telling his fiance of his secret. He's attacked by all his friends including the devil, delightfully performed by DeZita.
Glen or Glenda? as silly as it is, was actually a fairly courageous topic for Wood to tackle in 1952. It's pomposity and lack-of-tact direction made it a cult film rather quickly. Indeed, it was haunting midnight movie houses in New York by the 1970s. 60 years ago, very few would imagine it would still be viewed often today. Watch it below:
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.
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.
Nightmare of Ecstasy: The Life and Art of Edward D. Wood Jr., by Rudolph Grey, Feral Books
Review by Doug Gibson
"Only in the infinity of the depths of a man's mind can we really find the answer."-- From the 1953 film Glen or Glenda, written, directed, produced, and starred in by Ed Wood, Jr.
Edward D. Wood, Jr., died homeless in 1978. The former "C" movie director was an alcoholic with a brain that had virtually wasted away from an excess of booze and disappointment. He expired on a friend's bed while his wife in the next room ignored his pleas for help. For the last several years of his life, the only writing, starring and directing jobs he had were for pornography. There was no mention of his death in the Hollywood press. He directed only six films that were made available to mainstream audiences, the last in 1960.
Now, flash to 2000: the late Edward D. Wood, Jr. -- known as Ed Wood -- has become a cottage industry. His films, most notably Glen or Glenda and Plan 9 From Outer Space, are major cult favorites selling thousands of copies a year. A film, Ed Wood, was made starring Johnny Depp as Ed. It was an Oscar winner. Wood's cheapie, near-pornography fiction paperbacks from the 1960s are collector's items. Reprints are sold from outlets such as the Quality Paperback Book Club and Amazon. One of Wood's last screenplays, I Awoke Early the Day I Died, was filmed and stars Billy Zane of Titanic fame. There are webpages devoted to Wood. Cult Movies magazine, a popular film publication, has a story about Ed Wood in just about every issue.
So what made Ed Wood an American original, as he's described in Rudolph Grey's oral biography, Nightmare of Ecstasy: The Life and Art of Edward D. Wood, Jr. From the recollections of friends, lovers, acquaintances and colleagues, Grey treats readers to Wood's life. It's a bizarre, hilarious, eccentric and sad look at the most unique soul who ever left small town life to try and hit it big in Hollywood. Wood was a reverse Sammy Glick -- full of enthusiasm and drive but not with a Machiavellian soul. As a result, everything he touched turned to lead instead of gold.
A heterosexual transvestite, Wood fought the Japanese in World War 2 wearing a bra and panties under his soldier's garb. After the war, he spent a couple of years with a traveling carnival and then headed to Hollywood. In the late 1940s Wood was an extremely handsome, energetic man who had no trouble attracting a team of actors, most of whom would stay with him for more than a decade. They included an aging Bela Lugosi, Vampira, a slinky horror TV show host, a psychic named Criswell, Wood's girlfriend Dolores Fuller, a 400-pound Swedish wrestler named Tor Johnson, and veteran character actor Lyle Talbot.
Wood finagled his first feature deal by convincing exploitation film producer George Weiss to let him make a film about a sex change, which was new and in the news in 1950. Instead, Wood made Glen or Glenda, an absurd, surrealistic autobiographical film about his own transvestite tendencies. Weiss took it, added some bond- age scenes, and released it as I Changed My Sex. It bombed then, but gradually grew to become the one Ed Wood film that enjoyed a real cult audience while he was alive.
Grey's biography details Wood's life as a "one-lung" producer in 1950s Hollywood. It was raise a few thousand dollars, shoot for a few days, shut down, raise some more money, and shoot some more film. The book is fascinating for its anecdotes of how Ed saved costs. He stole a rubber octopus from another studio for his film Bride of the Monster. He stole scene shots at motels, streets and parks. He used stock footage from other films in abundance, which often gave his films a disjointed, out-of-sequence look.
Wood's tender friendship with the aging, penniless Lugosi shows his altruistic side. It was a sincere desire to assist his boyhood film idol maintain dignity in his last years.
Grey's book is a real treat for Wood fans. It contains a listing of all his film projects, whether they got off the ground or not, and a complete summary of his novels and stories.
It's easy to laugh at Ed Wood's movies. And they do appear silly. But he doesn't deserve the smarmy humor that often accompanies critiques of Ed Wood films. Wood's films often seem ridiculous because he had neither the time, nor money needed, to make a real Hollywood production. But -- and this is important -- THEY ARE NEVER DULL. Plan 9 From Outer Space may seem silly with its hubcaps-for-flying-saucers, daylight-to-night shots and stilted dialogue, but its anti-war sci-fi plot -- aliens raise the dead to convince earth to stop building weapons -- would be a crazy, exciting film with a $50 million budget.
Grey's book demonstrates what a crazy, original idea man Ed Wood was. That's why, of the thousands of low budget offerings that dotted movie screens in the 1950s, Ed Wood is the survivor. Perhaps Penn and Teller summed it up best: "We've seen Plan 9 From Outer Space 15 times. Who can say the same thing about an Emma Thompson movie?"
