Poverty row Lugosi films getting more respect nowadays

Essay by Doug Gibson

I love the book, Poverty Row HORRORS, by Tom Weaver, published originally in 1993. I earlier reviewed it here and interviewed Weaver here. Weaver can be a bit mean in his criticism (he uses the term "lowly hacks" to describe Steve Sekely and Frank Wisbar. That's bad enough. But he even snarks that the term "maybe" applies to Edgar G. Ulmer! Come on!

Nevertheless, he does love the poverty row films, and his pre-Internet book is a fantastic source, with detailed production notes, analysis and various reviews of the era. There is also an exhaustive filmography for dozens of actors who performed in the low-budget horrors; and a great index.

Although he can criticize Lugosi, Weaver understands that Lugosi is a major reason there is fandom for the poverty-row era. His PRC film, Devil Bat, and the nine Monogram films he made are the linchpin of this genre. George Zucco of PRC and John Carradine, who worked for multi poverty-row studios, can't compare to Lugosi's' efforts. As Weaver notes, Zucco could come across as mean and Carradine too often gave passive, or downright goofy (think Voodoo Man) performances.

But Lugosi gave it all in these five-day productions. He took it as seriously as if he was starring in Dracula. You can appreciate Lugosi's pride in his craft by watching Boris Karloff give less than his best effort in low-budget films (a good example is Karloff in Monogram's The Ape).

I digress to read passages from a couple of publications of that era that also recognized Lugosi's value to poverty row and why it has an impact today.

From Midnight Marquee Actors Series Bela Lugosi (1995) Gary Svehla writes, "Bela ... approached every movie as though each film performance was as important as the one before. Good films, bad films; good characterizations, cliche roles simply were not part of Lugosi's vocabulary. The only thing that seemingly mattered was the next film and the next performance. Approach the current film as being the ultimate chance to display your talents and perhaps you would have the opportunity to act again. Or, to state the philosophy more succinctly, an actor is only as good as his last film."

Here is an excellent assessment of the Monogram films from Michael Copner, formerly of Cult Movies magazine, writing in the 1990 publication, Bela Lugosi: Then and Now (also known as Cult Movies 1): "If you go into it expecting the nice atmosphere and music of the Universal productions, if you expect the thing to actually make sense, you're going to be in trouble. These movies are the pulp novels of the screen; their only purpose in the world is to make money. So you must watch them in the same way -- just a string of meaningless events going on until Bela Lugosi can come back on the screen again. That's why we're here. If you do that, you will actually begin to enjoy the cheapness a bit, and develop a new appreciation of what  Bela was able to do with absolutely nothing to go on. If this were Michelangelo, forced to create something with a single crayon on a sheet of cardboard; or Paderewski, having to perform on a baby's toy piano, you'd give them this same consideration, wouldn't you? Take this attitude the next time you watch The Corpse Vanishes and you will be amazingly rewarded."

I took Copner's advice and have been rewarded by these films for generations.

At the back of Weaver's book, he has 26 genre experts rate the nine Monogram films 1 through 9. The reviewers include Forrest J. Ackerman, Richard Bojarski, Buddy Barnett, Copner, Weaver, Svehla, Richard Gordon, Joe Dante, Arthur Lennig, and William K. Everson. A lot of these reviewers died in the ensuing years.

The cumulative results are not surprising for almost 30 years ago:

1) Invisible Ghost
2) The Corpse Vanishes
3) Voodoo Man
4) Bowery at Midnight
5) Return of the Ape Man
6) Black Dragons
7) The Ape Man
8) Spooks Run Wild
9) Ghosts on the Loose

I think today, more than 25 years later, that Invisible Ghost (a screen shot is seen above) is still the technically best film. It's probably not the funnest film, though. I'd go with The Corpse Vanishes, and then Black Dragons. Other fun films are Bowery at Midnight and The Ape Man. In my opinion, Voodoo Man and Return of the Ape Man would be second and third on the list. I think they have gained more respect the past decade or so, primarily because Lugosi's performances are so strong. His mad scientist, Professor Dexter, in Return of the Ape Man, is almost as good as his Dr. Richard Vollin in The Raven. And the East Side Kids films are still 8 and 9, although Spooks Run Wild is three times as good as the dismal Ghosts on the Loose, which really wastes Bela. Here I go:  My list:

1) Invisible Ghost
2) Voodoo Man
3) Return of the Ape Man
4) The Corpse Vanishes
5) Bowery at Midnight
6) The Ape Man
7) Black Dragons
8) Spooks Run Wild
9) Ghosts on the Loose

Be aware, that my choices for 4, 5 and 6 are more or less a tie.

This pandemic spring I re-read Lennig's superb biography of Lugosi, "The Immortal Count." My only peeve is that Lenning really seems to despise Lugosi's Monogram films, although his barbs are perhaps mostly directed at the lazy writing, poor acting by co-stars, and direction. But these poverty-row films, as Weaver and others point out, are a major part of Lugosi's legacy today. Without them, I don't think his mystique and fan base would be as strong. Imagine what we'd think today if Lugosi had chosen to be a consistent seventh lead in an A level studio pumping out dramas in the 40s and 50s? Boring. I much prefer Bride of the Monster.

I've noticed this past year a resurgence, and increased respect, for the poverty-row films of the '40s, particularly Lugosi's. Recently, we have reviewed, from  BearManor Media, "Bela Lugosi and the Monogram 9," with critical essays from Gary D. Rhodes and Robert Guffey. And we have reviewed two short story anthologies based on Monogram and other poverty-row films. They are "The Monogramthology," from Arcane Shadows Press, and "Chillers: Tales Inspired By Classic Horror Films," (compiled by Brad Braddock), from Midnight Marquee Press. Authors in both those collections include genre writers Greg Mank and Frank Dello Stritto.

But again, no matter how "respectable" these films become, they are still thrillers to be enjoyed, to have fun with. Weaver's Poverty Row Horrors is a must for fans to possess. You can buy it here.

Tom Weaver talks Poverty Row Horrors with Plan9Crunch

Interview by Doug Gibson

At Plan9Crunch, we are pleased, and indeed honored, to present an interview with Tom Weaver, who over the course of a couple generations has written scores of books and articles detailing in-depth research into many areas of cult films. Of his books, Weaver has done groundbreaking research on many topics, including films of John Carradine, the Universal horror films of 1931 to the late 40s, and poverty-row horrors of the 1940s.

It's that final subject, Poverty Row Horrors, that Weaver has been kind enough to answer several questions we had regarding his wonderful book, "Poverty Row Horrors" (McFarland), that he wrote with research assistance from Michael and John Brunas. It's a fascinating look at that magical era (1940 to a bit past World War II) in which Monogram, PRC and Republic made low-budget films of the Universal-type horror films. Ironically, around the time the war ended, the Universal horrors were starting to resemble the Monogram and PRC horrors.

-- RELATED: Our review of "Poverty Row Horrors," by Tom Weaver

Bu we digress, here is the interview with Mr. Weaver:

PLAN 9 CRUNCH: Monogram, PRC, Republic, how did they see these B movies in terms of stars, artistic quality, plots and perhaps most importantly, economics?

 Weaver: I started interviewing Hollywood old-timers and writing about old movies in the early to mid-1980s, by which time most of the people who made the Poverty Row horror movies were long gone, so I never got to ask them questions like that. I don’t know that anyone else ever did either. I assume – and assuming is all I’m doing – that they saw that there was a market for these movies, based on the success that Universal was having with their “franchise monsters,” and tried to cut into the pie. “Artistic quality,” “plots,” all those considerations … I’d also bet that only a few of them, like Edgar G. Ulmer and Frank Wisbar, gave those things much thought. The “average” Monogram writer or director probably didn’t much care if his next assignment was a comedy or a horror movie or a Western, as long as the checks cleared. I hope that doesn’t sound cynical but I’ve talked to lots of TV writers and they were in it for the bread, and almost none of them had the episodes they had written in their home video collections – if they even HAD home video collections! In the 1940s, Sam Katzman himself called his horror movies “moron pictures” and said he couldn’t understand why people wanted to see them!

PLAN 9 CRUNCH: Of the horror genre stars who played in these films (I'll omit Karloff) who was the most successful artistically, and economically for the producers?

Weaver: Well, Bela Lugosi was the most successful from a standpoint of getting people to watch the movies – he made movies for Monogram on and off for about ten years, so obviously they were popular. And then they were popular on TV and now they’re popular on home video, and if really good-quality prints of his Monograms turned up in 2015, I’m sure a lot of fans would buy them even though they’ve probably bought all of Lugosi’s Monogram movies ten times by now, in various formats. Were any of them successful “artistically”? Well, you’d have to define “artistically” for me before I could answer that. “Artistically,” Carradine and Lugosi and Zucco would probably rather be working in any other movie then being made in Hollywood, then in something like RETURN OF THE APE MAN. These WERE good actors who’d been on the stage and been in fine movies, and they probably considered it a little embarrassing to work for the smallest Hollywood studios in movies that probably even kids laughed at. I’m sure they were happy for the work, happy to be making a living … and they’d have probably been happy if their next movie wasn’t going to have a Flying Serpent or a guy in a gorilla suit starring in it.

PLAN 9 CRUNCH: You mention in the book that Monogram budgeted these films to have a profit of less than $2,000. What were the budgets and cast salaries for these films generally. Name star? Non-name stars? Supporting people, such as Frank Moran, Minerva Urecal, etc.

Weaver: No one would love to know the answers to those questions more than I would. But if there’s paperwork for these movies anywhere, I don’t know where. I was able to find out that John Carradine made $3,000 a week on VOODOO MAN, which probably TOOK a week. That’s not bad – heck, if somebody offered me a $3000-a-week job now, 2015, I’d crawl over broken glass to get it, so imagine what that was like in 1944. But I’m sure the no-name supporting players got Screen Actors Guild scale, whatever that was at the time. In the 1930s the Weiss family had to be the cheapest producers in Hollywood, and recently someone dug up a lot of their records. They paid some of their minor actors just a few dollars a day, in the depths of the Depression.

PLAN 9 CRUNCH: What non-name actors do you think distinguished themselves in these low-budget films? And among directors and crew, who were some of the better professionals?

Weaver: I’m no huge fan of either BLUEBEARD or STRANGLER OF THE SWAMP but I think it’s obvious that their directors, Edgar Ulmer and Frank Wisbar respectively, tried to give ‘em a lot more TLC than the average Poverty Row horror director. Also Joseph H. Lewis, who directed Lugosi’s INVISIBLE GHOST. Performance-wise I’ve got some favorites that nobody talks about: Henry Victor as a Lugosi-like villain in KING OF THE ZOMBIES, Ralph Morgan as the victim of acromegaly in THE MONSTER MAKER, maybe a couple more. And I also enjoy leading ladies who are a bit brighter and/or spunkier than the norm, which would be Joan Barclay in BLACK DRAGONS, Louise Currie in THE APE MAN, Jean Parker in BLUEBEARD. Although maybe that’s as much thanks to the writers as to the actresses. Another reason that not-much is known about these movies behind-the-scenes, beyond the fact that the moviemakers were pretty much all dead before anybody started asking ‘em questions, is … they were made so quickly that, decades later, the people involved barely remembered them. Every Poverty Row actor or actress I talked to … they were good for one or two anecdotes, MAYBE, and that was IT. And that’s understandable. When I’m 80, and somebody asks me about a job that took me three days when I was 30 and hadn’t thought about since, they ain’t gettin’ NUTHIN’ out of me, I promise you!

PLAN 9 CRUNCH: Why did the genre falter after World War II? Perhaps as importantly, why were they successful during World War 2?

Weaver: Universal made horror popular again with SON OF FRANKENSTEIN, which made a LOT of money for a horror flick, and then THE CAT AND THE CANARY and THE GHOST BREAKERS with Bob Hope were hits that inspired more horror-comedies, and then the Val Lewton movies did unexpectedly well. They were good escapism for blue-collar types and kids and, if a studio didn’t put too much money into ‘em, they were assured a profit. It’s weird, it seems like all the studios were always following Universal’s lead when it came to the horrors: DRACULA and FRANKENSTEIN were hits so the other studios started making them. In the mid-1930s they were getting LESS popular and civic groups were complaining about horror pictures here and abroad and Universal stopped making them, so everybody else stopped too; and in the mid-1940s Universal merged with International Pictures and decreed no more horrors, no more Westerns, no more B-pictures, and again all the other studios ALSO dropped the horrors.

PLAN 9 CRUNCH: Republic's films seem to have higher production values but lack traditional horror elements? Why was that?

Weaver: There were great, efficient crews working at Republic and they could make their cheapies look darn good, and did. I don’t think too many people at Monogram or PRC were sitting up nights trying to figure out how to make their movies look better. In fact, PRC movies HAD to look cheap – I’m told that to save money, they used the cheapest kind of film, film that newsreel cameramen used, so the movies probably looked old and dupey when they were brand new. As for the horror elements in Republic movies, it seems to me that their writers just weren’t cut out for monsters. They TRIED to come up with “something a little different” sometimes – a vampire in Africa who walks in sunlight and gets into fights; a Catman, a vampire-like joker they called a zombie, etc. They’d establish these offbeat horror characters and then didn’t know what to DO with them, so they have ‘em get into fights and chases, as if they were still writing a serial or a Western. Weird!

PLAN 9 CRUNCH: You're harsh at times in your assessments but fair. Do you think these films are overrated due to honor bestowed to stars and genre. What's the best Poverty Row offering in your opinion, from artistic and entertainment values?

Weaver: My favorite is probably THE DEVIL BAT because I like the murder-a-reel plot, I like the monster even though it’s the next thing to a kite I guess, and Bela actually seems like he’s having a good time playing the villain. I know that’s not the answer you’re “supposed” to give, I know BLUEBEARD and STRANGLER OF THE SWAMP have the best reps – and there ARE good things about them. But they’re so somber, no fun. And so cheap-looking. Both are PRCs and both look like they’re from 1919 because of the film stock, because they’re so dark, because they’re so drab. They make a Republic movie like LADY AND THE MONSTER look like an MGM super-production!

And this last question is from my co-blogger at Plan9Crunch, Steve D. Stones.

PLAN 9 CRUNCH: Mr. Weaver, you often are very critical of the films and directors you write about. Even though some of your criticism is warranted, do you still find some entertainment value in many of the bottom of the barrel films you write about? Since art and entertainment is very subjective, would you ever admit that there is something hip and unique about finding "bad movies" entertaining and worth one's time to view them?

Weaver: I find things to like in just about all of these movies, or (obviously!) I wouldn’t want to write about them. Who sits down and says to himself, “I hate B-Westerns” or “I never like musical comedies” and then their next thought is, “I should watch a ton of them and spend a year writing a book about them!” But when I actually sit down and have to critique these things, sometimes scene by scene, it CAN come out sounding pretty negative. Yes I kinda like THE APE MAN because Bela’s first scene is kinda funny and the scene of him running around town with the ape is darn funny and the ending, in its penny-ante way, is halfway exciting. Fine, there’s four minutes that I really like. But you’ve also got to write about the movie’s OTHER 60 minutes which I don’t think ANYbody much likes! So, yes, sometimes I’m sure my enthusiasm gets washed away by the tidal wave of complaints.

I love finding good things in a “bad” movie, or finding an unheard-of movie with a lot to recommend it, and sharing my opinions with other fans so that maybe they’ll give the movie another look. When people who buy my books contact me, there are two things they can say that I especially like hearing. Number one, that I wrote about a movie in such a way that it got them to rewatch it. That’s kinda what it’s all about, if you ask me. I love it when I’m reading a book and the discussion turns to a movie that I’ve seen, but not in a long time, and the writer writes about its best scenes and best performances and enthuses about it in such a way that after a while I have the attitude of “Forget about reading this book, I’m gonna go watch those movies.”

The other thing I love hearing is that people read my books in the bathroom. Maybe every writer won’t admit this, probably doesn’t LIKE admitting this, but – that IS the highest compliment you can get!

We'e grateful for Tom Weaver for taking the time to share his cult films expertise with our readers.

Poverty Row Horrors remains, despite the snark, a great achievement for Tom Weaver

By Doug Gibson

I re-read a genre book that's been around a long time, "Poverty Row Horrors," by Tom Weaver, with help from Michael and John Brunas. It's a marvelous work of film scholarship that covers -- in depth -- the output of Monogram, Producers Releasing Corporation and Republic studios during the first several years of the 1940s. It was a certainly a golden era for cult film buffs with stars such as Bela Lugosi, George Zucco, John Carradine, and even Boris Karloff, working in the C-film horror trade.

Weaver is, to use a cliche, a treasure. Besides his interview books, he has done work, with associates, on the Universal horror films, the films of John Carradine, and of course this book, that frankly may not be equaled. The depth of the research is superb. Everything you want to know about, say "The Mad Monster," "The Invisible Ghost," or "The Vampire's Ghost," etc., you are liable to find in this volume.

In the era of the now-defunct "Cult Movies" magazine, I always looked for a Tom Weaver film review and read it first, for the sole reason that I knew it would have far more genre-intensive information than the other film reviews.

But there is a less attractive feature to Weaver in his writing; he can be snarky, particularly to Bela Lugosi ad his fans. Here's an example from "Poverty Row Horrors" in "The Devil Bat chapter: "According to another PRC 'scoop,' 'Bela Lugosi says that for sheer dramatic tension and unadulterated horror, Devil Bat far outshines Dracula (cue to Weaver's snark) (There may be more truth to that statement than traditionalist horror fans will want to admit!)"

Sigh. Anyone who has read Universal Horrors has to put up with the Bela-bashing to enjoy that otherwise superb book. But one aspect of reading Poverty Row Horrors will be the periodic snarky jabs at directors, actors in these cheap but memorable films. Although these jabs are a small price to pay for the scholarship Weaver uncovers, one wishes he could see these films in the way that Cult Movies once opined, as "Rembrandt with a crayon." We are all aware of the plot holes, inconsistencies, and low budgets of films such as "The Corpse Vanishes," "Dead Men Walk," "Ghosts On the Loose," and others, but it's odd to hear a writer of this genre unleash his inner-Bosley Crowther (the fussy New York Times critic of that era) in meticulously criticizing Poverty Row cinema.

Enough of my rants, though; Weaver does acknowledge the fun factor of these films, the ability of these crazy plots of films such as "Bowery Over Midnight" or "Return of the Ape Man" or "Isle of Forgotten Sins" to provide entertainment, to be successes due to the charisma, mixed with outlandishness, that a Lugosi can provide. I agree with Frank Dello Stritto that these poverty row horrors did not really scare audiences; they were a combination of relief and nostalgia, escape for audiences wearied by the Depression and World War II. Also, Weaver seems to be a good sport, willing to take opposing viewpoints. He wrote a gracious introduction to the recent book "Tod Browning's Dracula," by Gary Don Rhodes, even though he disagrees with Rhodes' take on "Dracula."

If I have a real beef on a film's quality with Weaver it's probably his take on Frank Wisbar's PRC masterpiece "Strangler of the Swamp." Although I agree the later PRC version is not as good as Wisbar's German effort "Ferryboat Woman Maria,' it's still a superb film with amazing atmosphere for having a swamp on a stage. And Charles Middleton as the Strangler, with his methodical steps and dead eyes, is the closest poverty row came to creating legit scares. Weaver claims that many of Strangler's fans are merely echoing William K. Everson's praise in "Classics of the Horror Film." I disagree; I never read Everson's book and still loved "Strangler," among the first Poverty Row films I saw. I agree with Weaver that Wisbar bored us later, including with "Devil Bat's Daughter," but he scored with "Strangler in the Swamp."

(Frankly, an example of genre fans being swayed to one side is the excessive praise for the Spanish "Dracula" a generation-plus ago when it was located. Too many declared it superior to Browning's "Dracula," an incorrect assessment that is slowly being corrected.)

I do love this book, and no one should get upset at subjective differences of opinion. If you are a poverty-row horror film fan, this is a book that will last a lifetime as one reads chapters over and over. There is also an informative chapter on the music used in these films. A segment of more films with short synopsis, and a filmography for the many professionals who appeared in the films.

I favor the Monogram and PRC films, and particularly enjoy reading the Joseph L. Lewis and Edgar Ulmer directed films. I'm not as big a fan of the Republic poverty row films, but I do love the offbeat film "The Vampire's Ghost," and it has its chapter. You can buy this book via amazon here