An unauthorized Mexican remake of Abbott and Costello Meet Frankenstein

By Doug Gibson

I came across a film, released via DVD by Image Entertainment Latino, called Frankestein (sic), El Vampiro, y Compania," made in 1962 by Cinematografica Calderon S.A., a Mexican film company which still exists. The movie is a comedy and a blatant remake of the Abbott & Costello classic "Abbott and Costello Meet Frankenstein." That is about the only admirable quality of the film. It's bottom-of-the-barrel low and the comedy is of the crude, unfunny type where the "funny man" screams and mugs his face up and generally does a sixth-rate imitation of Huntz Hall.

And this is a bad film. Frankly, it's very obscure and there is no English dubbing available. On IMDB it declares the dubbed version lost, but I wonder if the film was never dubbed because the producers were worried they'd be sued by Universal, which produced the Abbott and Costello film. My DVD is of course only Spanish. I am fluent in Spanish but the film can be followed by anyone familiar with Abbot & Costello Meet Frankenstein. In that sense it can be fun to watch, but boy it's mediocre and unfunny.

The original film has Bud and Lou as inept shippers of big packages and crates. While unloading crates containing the original Dracula and Frankenstein monster for a spook show owner, it turns out the monsters are genuine. They escape and Bud and Lou are arrested for having lost the merchandise. They are bailed out by a sexy insurance investigator who hopes the boys can lead her to the merchandise. Rotund Lou is being romanced by a sexy doctor who is helping Dracula resurrect the Frankenstein monster. The wolf man contact the boys, hoping to stop Dracula. It all ends in a party and then a castle where Dracula and Lou's paramour hope to place Costello's brain in the head of the monster. There's a subplot involving a romance between the insurance investigator and Dracula's assistant at the castle (he doesn't know about the nefarious plans) and the usually funny gags with Abbott being frustrated at Costello's "success" with the women.

The remake, Frankestein, El Vampiro, y Compania," stays pretty faithful except for these changes, which were probably due to budget constraints. There is no insurance investigator. Her role is instead played by a new character, the daughter of the spook show owner. And Dracula has no assistant. The daughter makes eyes at the Mexican version of Bud Abbott. Also, the wolfman has little to do, which is not too bad because his mask is pathetic. It looks like a $9.99 mask one could find at any store.

The "funny man" in the film, the Lou Costello character, is played by a Mexican comic named Manuel "Loco" Valdez. His name is Paco As mentioned, he's more Huntz Hall than Lou Costello. The Abbott character, not really comic, is played by Jose Jasso and called Agapito. The best part of the film is the healthy amount of attractive, dark-haired, voluptuous Mexican starlets. They look healthier than the monsters, particularly El Vampiro, played by a painfully thin, noodle-necked seventh-rate John Carradine named Quintin Bulnes. The Frankestein monster is adequate for a college film and as mentioned, the Wolfman is an ill-costumed afterthought.

One of the problems with low-budget poorly scripted, badly acted spooks comedies is that the monsters are played as ridiculous and worthy of being laughed at. The vampire in this film tries to be funny and ridiculous, mugging and jerking around. In Abbot and Costello Meet Frankenstein, the monsters retain their dignity and the comics are funny solely by their reactions to the monsters.

Other stars include Nora Veryan as the sexy doctor who entices Paco to the castle. It's worth a look, particularly if you want to see what other filmmakers did with the famous Abbott and Costello. As mentioned, no English dubbing is known to exist, but if you can get this cheap, enjoy. The IMDB page is here.

Danger: Diabolik - A Fun, Kitsch Laden Crime Caper

By Steve D. Stones

Danger: Diabolik (1967) is Italian director Mario Bava's most kitsch laden film. Bava is best known for his atmospheric horror and suspense themed films - such as Black Sunday and Kill Baby Kill.  Diabolik, however, is pure tongue in cheek, psychedelic era entertainment. The viewer might even mistaken it for a 1960s TV episode of Batman. The character of Diabolik even has an underground, secret headquarters filled with computers and other electronic devices - just like Batman's bat cave.  Diabolik dresses in a skin tight black outfit, similar to a diver's suit.

After stealing ten million dollars from under the noses of government agents and a priceless emerald necklace, Diabolik (John Phillip Law) confronts an Italian crime boss named Ralph Valmont - who has kidnapped Diabolik's girlfriend Eva (Marisa Mel) in exchange for the ten million dollars and the necklace.

Diabolik and Valmont fall out the bottom of a plane during a fight and land safely on the ground, as government agents quickly close in on the two. Valmont is killed by gun fire, while Diabolik swallows a capsule to give the appearance of being dead, allowing him to live in suspended animation for twelve hours.

Diabolik escapes while on the examination table at the hospital morgue, then plans his next big heist - the robbery of a 20-ton gold bar being transported by train. 

He blows up a bridge the train travels across carrying the giant gold bar and retrieves it underwater. He takes the gold bar back to his secret headquarters. 

The ending of the film may be giving a parody reference to the 1964 James Bond film - Goldfinger. Diabolik melts down the gold bar, but is accidentally solidified in the hot gold while wearing a protective suit.  Although the government agents think he is dead, he winks at the viewer through his helmet to indicate he's still alive.

The coolest aspect of Diabolik is that he does summersaults across the hood of his Jaguar when he's in a hurry to get away, and sleeps in a giant bed piled with money. The strange psychedelic score by Ennio Morricone adds greatly to the kitsch quality of the film. Opening credits give the impression of being spun in the spin cycle of a clothes washer.  Happy viewing!

(Art by Steve D. Stones)

The time Bela Lugosi made a World War II propaganda film

By Doug Gibson

Black Dragons is probably Bela Lugosi's oddest C-movie cheapie, and let's face it, the competition is fierce. But, oh, how I love these old '40s gems. It's a Monogram film, made under its Banner Productions. I'm sure it played in LA and NYC street theaters and smaller cities and towns, perhaps paired with an East Side Kids flick?

But I digress: Black Dragons, 1942, directed by William Nigh, runs 69 B and W minutes and stars Lugosi as Dr. Melcher and Monsieur Colomb. He's a sinister guy who pops up just as a bunch of American industrialists are getting mysteriously bumped off. There is also pretty Joan Barclay as the niece of a Dr. Saunders (Robert Frazer), who is all mixed up in whatever is going on. It's also fun to see future Lone Ranger Clayton Moore as an FBI agent.

Now, we have mysterious deaths, we have Lugosi. It's all set to be a horror, right ... ahem, no. This is 1942, the U.S. is at war with the Axis, and Monogram head honcho Sam Katzman saw money to be made by creating a combination thriller/WW2 propaganda anti-Japanese film. So that's what Black Dragons is, and it makes the film an interesting historical curio piece. One has to appreciate Katzman's ability to mix patriotism with a quick buck! He had this film in the can and ready for theaters by late spring 1942. The film ends with a banner headline, "Jap spy ring smashed!" and a fade out of Old Glory, the American flag.

You see, these U.S. industrialists are Japanese spies, created through plastic surgery to look like the American industrialists. Lugosi was the Nazi surgeon who did all this in Japan ... and then was doublecrossed and thrown in prison. Somehow -- the film sort of glosses over this -- Lugosi escaped Japan and headed to the U.S. to get his revenge on the spies. The plot is delightfully bizarre. Lugosi not only conducts plastic surgery on the Japanese agents, he lightens their skin and provides them accents, as well as hair and body shapes. All the industrialists who are now having doubles were killed off sans anyone knowing, even their families! Once Lugosi's character is tossed into a Japanese cell, which appears to be all stone, he somehow is able to conduct perfect plastic surgery -- from his bag -- on another prisoner!

As I mentioned, I love these time-capsule films. Monogram was famous for its bizarre intricate plots that its ultra-low budgets just could never keep up with. They dissolve into fun nonsensical action. Lugosi is Lugosi in this film. He's wonderful, whether he's coyly flirting with starlet Barclay or cleverly and calmly dispatching his victims. And there's also that wonderful, ubiquitous menacing, Monogram music. As Lugosi biographer Arthur Lennig notes, this was the last film in which Lugosi (in his early 60s) was considered attractive to a young lovely. Barclay does flirt rather unabashedly with Bela. Also, Robert Frazer, who co-starred with Lugosi in the classic "White Zombie," is in this film.

The boom of video and DVD plus public domain has made Black Dragons, once rather obscure, easy to find. It's often in the $1 DVD bin at Wal-Mart or in the 20- to 50-set public domain offerings. Those with broadband Internet can watch it free on the Net. Buy it and enjoy an hour-plus diversion into a different filmmaking existence. I love the opening sequence, where fat, bloated and old Washington pols, lobbyists and businessmen are partying with lots of liquor, cigars and blonde babes. Some things never change.

Biography breathes life into the career of Three Stooges' mentor Ted Healy

Review by Doug Gibson

I recently purchased "Nobody's Stooge: Ted Healy," by Bill Cassara (Bear Manor Media) here (and be advised it's much more inexpensive via Kindle), It's an entertaining fact-filled account of the life of a man who was a major star in 1920s vaudeville, the creator of The Three Stooges and later doing well as a studio contract star when he suddenly died near the end of 1937, mere days after becoming a father. Cassara's book has garnered plaudits; it was recently named a finalist in the biography category of the International Book Awards.

Healy was a mere 41 when he died, and his abrupt death was a real shame. Had he hung around for another 25 years or so, he almost certainly would have continued having strong acting roles, and likely would have been an early TV variety hour or comedy series star. He was a Master of Ceremonies superstar, a variety show talent with strong sketch comedy skills, as well as an ability to banter with audiences and co-stars. He defined being comfortable on the stage and screen.

He grew up in a somewhat dysfunctional family although their economic circumstances were better than most. He was a boyhood friend with "Moe" of the Three Stooges and both performed with a diving entertainment show as boys. Healy moved steadily into stage prominence. As Cassara reports, he was an early blackface star in the manner of Al Jolson. After he married a beautiful entertainer named Betty Braun, the pair's act, and their supporting players, reached Broadway star status. It was around that era that Healy developed the Three Stooges, as well as other Healy perennials, into his acts. As Cassara notes, an early "Stooge" was a show business plant in the audience.

Healy and Braun eventually split; Ted was not a faithful husband. It was inevitable that Healy's star would reach into the movies. Initially, he took Moe, Larry and Shemp/and sometimes Curly into the movies with him, including a stint of shorts. One of their first features (although it's Healy as the star and The Stooges in supporting roles) was the 1930 Rube Goldberg-scripted film "Soup to Nuts." While reading "Nobody's Stooge," I bought the film and watched it. Aside from Ted's role as a reporter in the MGM film, "Mad Love," I had never seen a Healy film.

I'm so glad I watched "Soup to Nuts." (imdb page) It's a time-capsule joy; the type of Hollywood romance with wisecracks and vaudevillian skits arranged into a Goldberg-esque plot. Ted plays the chief salesman of a failing costume shop. His bickering banter with his girlfriend, who works at the shop, has the timing and comedy of a Fred and Ethel Mertz. The characters are not unique, but fresh. There's Ted, his girlfriend, the proud shop owner, his lovely niece, and the nice young man who takes over the shop and falls in love with the niece.

Ted hangs around at a firehouse that employs Moe, Larry and Shemp, as well as an eccentric mute fireman, played by Fred Sanborn, a tiny man with bushy eyebrows, a Chaplin-like walk, an amusing running gait, and strong musical skills. He was one of Healy's vaudeville team and I guarantee that viewers will find him fascinating, whether they like him or not.

Much of the film has scenes with sketches that were likely related to vaudeville sets, physical and others, in the past, and there's a Fireman's Ball scene that features an extremely entertaining set of Ted and the Stooges. Rube Goldberg, by the way, has a cameo as do some silent comedy stars. Anyone who enjoys the Stooges, Healy, and early sound Hollywood variety comedy/musicals, or vaudeville, should watch the film. I'd love to see "Soup to Nuts" produced as a stage musical comedy.

Back to the biography; eventually The Stooges' screen time with Healy at MGM diminished and as Cassara notes, they were dropped and went on their own to eventual success with Columbia's shorts department. Healy continued working as a contract player, and worked with substitute Stooges as well.

As mentioned, Healy struggled with some issues, marriage fidelity, drinking, hanging out too often with cronies and hangers on, and he had tax problems. The government was attaching much of his earnings. Hurting for money, he filed suit against the Stooges of Columbia for allegedly appropriating his acts. This is a difficult charge to prove and the suit languished sans success until its dismissal long after Healy was dead.

The lawsuit has fueled rumors that Healy and the Stooges were highly antagonistic toward each other. Cassara makes a good case to debunk this with quotes from the Stooges praising Healy and paints the lawsuit as a not uncommon yet largely unsuccessful type of lawsuit that happens occasionally in the entertainment industry.

Cassara also debunks conspiracy theories, some published in prominent sources, that Healy was beaten to death or killed by the "mob" for gambling debts. As the book relates, Healy died after a long weekend of celebrating his son's birth (to his final wife, Betty Hickman) with a huge amount of drinking. He was involved in a fight that resulted in a wound to his head that was treated by a doctor very shortly before his death at his home. When his personal doctor delayed signing a death report, media speculation swirled.

Cassara is a retired law enforcement professional and he methodically deconstructs -- with some expert colleagues' help -- and discounts such conspiracies. The wounds from the fistfight don't seem severe enough to have killed Healy. The almost certain cause of Healy's death was an infection to his kidneys that was worsened to a grave condition by either a massive off-the-wagon weekend of drinking or a heavy drinking weekend from a severe alcoholic. Tragically, Cassara notes that Healy, certainly in agonizing pain from the kidney infection, may have unwisely been self medicating with drinking to alleviate the pain.

Healy died a few days before Christmas 1937; his wife Betty, recuperating from the delivery, was not told of her husband's death for a few days. Although still an in-demand Hollywood star, he did not save his money and left his family in poor financial condition

Although he's an entertainment footnote today, and certainly his relationship to the Stooges has him overshadowed by their iconic status, he was a far bigger star in 1937 than his former proteges, and his death and funeral were major news.

I urge cult movies fans, and particularly vintage talkie variety and comedy fans, to search for Ted Healy footage; he's really superb, and I envy anyone who gets to witness his talent for the first time. A pre-code YouTube clip short is below, and purchase "Soup to Nuts" and locate say, "Hollywood Hotel" the next time it's on TCM.

And buy Bill Cassara's biography of Healy, which besides debunking rumors provides a fascinating look into the stage star who created the Three Stooges and contributed strongly to the early years of cinema.