Legacy of Frankenstein #6: Gods and Monsters (1998)

I know very well that I'm kind of cheating here, counting this in my Frank theme. There are dozens and dozens of Frankenstein movies out there, and this isn't really one of them. But I'd never seen it before, and I was interested in James Whale (though I expected this film to spend more time on the making of his films).

James Whale directed the first two Universal Frankenstein movies, along with The Invisible Man and several other classic films, and this film imagines his final days, befriending a gardener and looking back over his life and memories.

Whale did indeed have a fascinating life, though the main story told in this movie is completely fictional. The film is sweet and sentimental (though not cloying). And, honestly, I feel like it deals with Shelley's original friendship themes better than any of the official Frank movies I've seen. 

Sidebar: While watching Whale's memories of World War One trenches, I couldn't help but think about Walt Disney, driving an ambulance in Paris at the same time. The two men both lived through horrors I can only imagine and survived to create warm, humane films which entertained the world. 

Ian McKellen is, of course, remarkable as Whale, and it's amazing to think how unknown he was to mainstream movie audiences at the time (Roger Ebert even felt he had to identify McKellen as a well-regarded stage actor for his readers). And Brendan Fraser, who'd follow up on a Universal horror franchise of his own the next year, was best known as a lowbrow goofball. I can't imagine a more unlikely pair of actors to make Oscarbait in 1998. But that's kind of the point, and they click together and create something real. It's touching to watch the two simply interact, and warm to each other. 

This movie, as I said, wasn't exactly what I expected, and I don't think I'll feel the need to see it every time I watch Whale's work (as I do with Ed Wood). But it's a sweet, sad piece of work, and it's great to know more about James Whale as a person. 

Legacy of Frankenstein #5: Bride of Frankenstein (1935)

James Whale's sequel to his first Frankenstein film came four years later, and after he made a successful different Universal monster movie, The Invisible Man. It's widely agreed that Bride of Frankenstein is Whale's masterpiece.

Whale and several screenwriters took years to come up with a story worth telling, and teased a few philosophical points from the Shelley novel, while creating new twists on the original film's themes. Since the first film's release, a new and vigorous censor had come to power in Hollywood, so the film has less than half the murders originally scripted for it, and focuses a lot more on fantastical horror, rather than gruesome realities.

The film opens with an elaborate sequence featuring Mary Shelley herself, along with her husband and Lord Byron, who clamor for more story (while recapping the first film). Shelley tells her audience that she has some ideas for a continuation. So the Creature survives the original film's ending, as does his creator.

As the Creature menaces the film's most irritating character (a comic-relief servant), Henry Frankenstein is taken home to recover from his injuries. Almost immediately, he is taken away again by his old mentor, a crazed philosopher, Dr. Pretorius. Pretorius wants to collaborate with Henry, and has something to show him.

Dr. Pretorius's campy character and miniature creations feel like a (nearly silly) diversion from the original story, but they're a symptom of the changed tone. While Henry and the Creature undergo more humanistic adventures, the true mad scientist of this film is (like Byron in the prologue) a proudly irreverent God-scoffer. Pretorius dines in a crypt, laughs at Henry's attempts to live within conventional morality, and blackmails murderers to further his own ego-driven ends.

This film spends some time explicitly pointing out that man isn't meant to play God (even putting those words into Shelley's mouth in the prologue, though her own stated goals in the novel didn't include that). I don't know how much of this is due to the new censor, or just an overabundance of moralistic caution, but it feels too preachy. In a film where two characters mock God in speech, I'm not sure we also need to be reminded that mocking him in practice is bad. The repeated cross symbolism is almost overbearing. (Though, apparently, my least favorite example, a lingering image of a wall-mounted Christ during a fadeout, was neither Whale's idea, nor liked by him.)

A lot of the original cast had moved on (for health or other reasons) since the first film, so several characters were recast. As someone watching the two films back-to-back (something the movies weren't designed for, and which would almost never have happened when they were released), I found it jarring to have a different person playing Elizabeth (and, less so, the burgomaster). The shifts in tone and recasting, and the addition of a more prominent musical score, make the film noticeably different from its precursor. It's loopier, more creative, though no less horrific.

And, it should be said, it's also more human. Henry's attempts at emotional recovery feel almost like a metaphor for addiction, while the Creature's repeated attempts to find companionship earn our sympathy. Of course, the sweet scenes with the blind hermit memorably tease the Creature (and us) with potential domestic contentment. More than the rest of the film, these scenes succeed at one of Shelley's original stated goals from the novel, the one to remind us how much better friendship is than almost anything else. 

This sequel is much more complex, more deeply-layered, than the first film. It's got the same depth of moody shadows, the same obsession with death and rebirth, but it's also more thoughtful, more expressive, funnier and more horrible. It's just got so much more movie in it.

Legacy of Frankenstein #4: Frankenstein (1931)

How do you do? I feel it would be a little unkind to present this blog post without just a friendly word of warning: it might even horrify you! Well, we warned you.

James Whale's classic film adaptation has proven to be the most indelible version of Mary Shelley's beloved monster. From its endless atmospherics to Karloff's brilliant portrayal, all the parts join together to sum up the melodramatic horror.

There's a reason this film is still revered and beloved, emulated and quaked at. Whale's moody, introspective lighting and staging cemented Universal's place at the center of the monster-movie universe. (Tod Browning's Dracula, ten months earlier, is also note-perfect in every respect, but this second masterwork proved that horror could repeatedly succeed artistically and financially. This film, even more than Dracula, proved the worth of a monster franchise that Universal is still working on today.)

(To be clear: I love the thoughtfulness of the novel, and its philosophic bent really spoke volumes to me. My favorite things about the novel aren't in this film. I think it's possible that someone may, one day, make a good film version of that profound statement. I also think it will never be as beloved as this film, possibly not even by me.)

A few parts of this film seem like filler today: Frankenstein's father, the blustery and speech-impeded Wodehouse aristocrat, is a stock type that exists only to inject a touch of humor into the grim darkness. And the wedding celebrations go on a bit too long for my taste, though the painful undercutting of the joy by Maria's father wouldn't be as effective if they were removed entirely.

But the vast majority of the film is glorious: gloomy lighthouse scenes, the captivating electrical gadgets, Frankenstein's mad (and wholly unscientific) speed-rant about the rays of life. The majesty of Colin Clive's feverish performance contrasts so well with Karloff's quiet childlike simplicity as he tries to grasp sunlight.

I love this film, and I remember loving its sequel, Bride of Frankenstein, even more -- back tomorrow after I've revisited that one.

A Spoopy Month #14: Mad Monster Party?

Well, I made it 13 days before running out of pre-written posts. This post is going up late in the day, not my usual schedule at all, but I've watched a lot of stuff I'm excited to write about, so I hope to get a few more posts in the pipeline today. Here's another Karloff movie, 1967's Mad Monster Party?

As you can see, it's stop-motion, and it's another Rankin-Bass spectacular. What you can't see, and might not guess, is why that word "Mad" is in the title. It was produced by Mad Magazine's publisher, and the characters were mostly designed by Mad artist Jack Davis. The movie was also co-written by Mad creator Harvey Kurtzman. (It's not important to this movie, but pretty important to me, that around the time Kurtzman was working on this movie, he'd just finished several years as Terry Gilliam's boss at Help! Magazine.)

I don't feel like this movie reaches the dizzying absurdist heights of humor that Mad could go to, though there are plenty of familiar touches (the characters are named things like Yetch and Felix Flanken). It's consistently amusing, though most people agree it's too long. (Apparently the producer/distributor wanted it to be 90 minutes, so a handful of extraneous scenes were added and filmed. This would benefit greatly from removal of those scenes, and a general tightening of atmosphere and chase scenes.) And while we're on the subject of the script, my DVD contains a special feature in which Arthur Rankin himself takes credit for my favorite joke in the movie: our hero and his lady are running from the monsters, trying to escape off the island, and she's unable to run any more. She begs the hero to save himself: "Go on, Felix. Just leave me something to read."

Karloff plays Dr. Frankenstein for a change in this one, and Phyllis Diller is immediately recognizable as herself (they even renamed Frankenstein's Monster to "Fang," in honor of her act). Most of the voice duties, though, fall to Allen Swift, who plays Felix as Jimmy Stewart (his job is as a pharmacist's assistant, and frankly I can't NOT think of It's A Wonderful Life in those scenes). Swift also makes The Invisible Man into Sydney Greenstreet and Yetch into Peter Lorre (what, no one could sound like Bogart?).

There are songs, too, which I personally didn't care for at all, since they had almost no jokes in them, though apparently the cult following for this film is at least partly due to the soundtrack. One person's meat, and all that.

You can find this on DVD most anywhere this time of year, and I'm honestly surprised I hadn't ever bothered to watch it before now. I doubt I'll see it every year, but it's a pleasant way to spend 90 minutes and has a handful of really funny monster jokes.