Universal Horrors

The genesis of Universal's classic horror era, Todd Browning's Dracula has, sadly, not withstood the test of time quite as well as it's namesake. Even so, Lugosi's performance is nothing short of iconic and is still considered the definitive personification of what a vampire is supposed to be. This might be the most influential film ever made.

One could argue that it was Frankenstein, not the earlier Dracula, that cemented Hollywood's stake (pun intended) in the horror genre and ultimately saved Universal Studios from pending bankruptcy.

No single person can be credited for the success of this classic. James Whale, Boris Karloff, Mary Shelley, Jack Pierce, Carl Laemmle Jr., all should be praised for bringing Frankenstein to life. Having said that, there is one person who deserves a share of the praise and, to this day, goes virtually uncredited for the picture's success, French writer Robert Florey. Florey was the one who took Shelley's unfilmable novel and carved out a treatment that met Universal's time and budget requirements. It's a shame that Florey goes without recognition because without him there would have been no Frankenstein and thus no Bride of Frankenstein and, quite possibly, no Universal Studios.

Where Frankenstein's creation is always a monster, and the Wolf Man is a monster only when the moon is full, the Mummy is, as Universal Studios puts forth here, not a monster at all - the Mummy is a man. True, he initially makes his appearance wrapped head to toe in bandages, but throughout the vast majority of his screen time he's a walking, talking, breathing fellow in dire need of moisturizer. In later incarnations, such as those produced by Britain's famous Hammer Studios, the mummy is little more than a mindless fiend intent on destroying everyone he meets, but here he's a character of depth, sophistication and dark ambition. Film fans expecting to be frightened out of their wits by this picture are bound to be disappointed. Instead they'll find a presentation that, with a few exceptions, is more thriller than horror. All this is more observation than critique. I love this movie, but not for the same reasons that I love other Universal Studios horror classics. The brilliance here lies in the dialog, in the intent, and in the performances. Where Frankenstein is unbound and the Wolf Man is unleashed, the Mummy is simply unwrapped.

Most films that are long on special effects are short in other areas, not James Whale's The Invisible Man. True to his unique style, Whale delivers a motion picture rich in character depth, narrative and substance. That is not to say that John Fulton's effects aren't astounding, they most certainly are, but Whale was never one to rest on someone else's laurels. Add to that the genius of R. C. Sherriff's screenplay and the boundless talent of star Claude Rains and you've got a movie that's timeless. A true classic.

This is arguably the best of Universal's classic monster movies. It's also director James Whale's last horror film. Whale, who directed the original Frankenstein, returned with a very different approach for the sequel. Where the sets of Frankenstein were close to perfect in their European authenticity, sets for "The Bride" were essentially a hodge-podge of canted architecture and macabre facades. The director also reworked the characters. He reduced Henry Frankenstein [Colin Clive] to what amounted to be a minor supporting role, added Dr. Pretorius [Ernest Thesiger], a flamboyant mad scientist (providing dark comic relief), and gave voice to the monster [Karloff]. The result is a film that is entirely original and self-sustaining.

Aside from the opening scene and perhaps some later close-ups of the bride [Elsa Lanchester], there is little to frighten an audience here. Instead Whale achieves something much more rare. He creates a film that subtly pokes fun at itself while, at the same time, is very serious in it's approach.

If there is anything here to be critical of it is Whale's unabashed attempt at religious symbolism. The camera seems to love the cross prominently displayed in the hermit's shack, and the raising of the captured monster tied to a stake is an obvious and distasteful reference to the crucifixion. It seems to me that what we have here is a case of Whale's enormous ego getting the better of his good judgment. Otherwise, the film may be as close to flawless, in terms of direction, casting, makeup, and set design, as any production before or since. A true cinematic masterpiece.

If you contrast Universal's The Wolf Man with Val Lewton's The Cat People you'll see two distinctly different styles that both work extremely well. Where Lewton's "evil" is conveyed in shadowy silhouettes and off-screen transformations, Universal's formula called for extreme close-ups, protruding fangs and loads & loads of yak hair. Where one is artistically sophisticated the other is courageously blatant. Both are horror classics and revered staples of the genre, arriving at the same destination via their own distinct path.

The fourth of Universal's classic Frankenstein films, Ghost of Frankenstein is notable for several reasons.

First, it was the first Universal film to feature a non-Karloff monster. It seems Boris was doing well in a Broadway production of "Arsenic and Old Lace" and the studio thought that waiting a year for Mr. Karloff to complete his stage obligations was far too long. Instead they cast the talented Lon Chaney, Jr. who was fresh off his stellar performance as a hairy lycanthrope in The Wolf Man just the year before.

Ghost also marks the last time Universal's bankable green giant would appear in a solo performance. In later incarnations Frankie would share the stage with a werewolf [Frankenstein Meets the Wolf Man, 1943], a werewolf and Dracula [House of Frankenstein, 1944] and a werewolf, Dracula and a Jekyll & Hyde-ish character [House of Dracula, 1945].

It could also be said that this 1942 production ushered in the 'New Universal', a departure from horror as an art form and an introduction of the streamlined, assembly-line film making that demanded smaller budgets and shorter shooting schedules in order to maximize a film's profitability.

Ghost of Frankenstein is ultimately unimaginative. It borrows heavily from it's predecessors. So much so that you'll swear you've seen this film before, even if you haven't. Thus, it shares the traits of most horror sequels; exciting, fun and completely unoriginal.