Blackenstein (The Black Frankenstein) (1973)

Well, I sat through it, so I might as well talk about it. It's 1973's cheaper, more insulting, less competent answer to Blacula. It's Blackenstein (The Black Frankenstein).

I dunno, maybe I was expecting too much from this movie. My memories of Blacula were of a movie that was, yeah, a little slow, but at least technically competent. At worst, I figured this would be a hilarious collection of 70s fashion and wah-wah guitars and "jive sucka" dialogue. And I got none of those things.

Let's run down the list of things the movie does wrong: First, and most importantly, it's technically a mess. It's poorly edited, both in picture and sound. The music seems to be stock horror music (there are a couple original songs, which are good enough, if you like that sort of thing, and I do), but it just jumps into and out of scenes, sometimes literally from shot to shot. The dirty, scratched, faded film print used for this DVD does nobody any favors either. Much of the film is way too dark. Watching this in a darkened room, on a nice big TV, I shouldn't have to squint to see if anything is happening (frequently it wasn't).

The script is a poor excuse for a first draft. We're told the white Dr. Stein (Do ya get it? Huh? Do ya?) won "The Nobel Peace Prize for medicine." There's a lot of talk about DNA and RNA, which nobody seems to understand. Despite all the DNA talk, they pull out the same old Van de Graaff generators to perform Eddie's operations. (I'm assuming the rental of those machines took up a large portion of the budget, since they get waaaay too much screen time.)

Eddie is a disabled Vietnam vet. That's an important, interesting topic, and for a few minutes, we think the movie has something to say about it: the attendant at the VA has an ... interesting monologue about it, but the movie's just setting him up to be the first victim. For this film, Vietnam is only a plot device to disable a man, so he can become a monster and the producers can make some money.

The movie has a serious problem with women. Eddie only kills women (he attacks several men, but only women die on screen). I'm disturbed that, like a lot of cheapo exploitation movies from the time, this confuses sex with violence -- we see the breasts of three women, of whom two die violently onscreen, and the third barely escapes with her life. Oh yeah, and there's a LOT of sexual assault in this movie. Our heroine is victimized by a madman (who also altered the DNA formula which changed Eddie into Blackenstein, if you were wondering), and another random woman walks away from a date rapist only to die at the hands of Blackenstein. There's a third sexual assault in an alley, and Eddie kills both parties.

And, believe it or not, that's not the worst part of the film. As far as I can tell, none of the makers of this film were black, and it shows. The movie spends NO time talking about the politics of race in 1973 America, which would make sense if the film addressed those issues as metaphor. Frankenstein is RIPE for the metaphorical plucking, but this movie can't be bothered. This movie doesn't understand what it looks like when the "good" white man beats a savage, imprisoned black man with a chain. This movie doesn't understand what it looks like when police set dogs on a black man, and the dogs literally rip his guts out onscreen. 

Sidebar: there is a scholarly book out there which addresses these issues in the film very seriously. I've scanned a few pages on Google Books, and I'd LOVE to read the whole thing. Take a look (if you can, skip to page 196 for the relevant passage).

I'd like to give the filmmakers credit, and think they knew these things meant something. I'd like to think these decisions were deliberate and thought-through. Unfortunately, the technical ineptitude and lack of effort in every other part of the movie convince me that the whole thing is a slapdash money grab. 

I always give you a buy link, but don't buy this. Don't watch it. 

Legacy of Frankenstein #7b: Young Frankenstein: The Moichandising

Today we're looking at a few of Young Frankenstein's ancillary products (where, of course, the REAL money is made).

This is from a line of gorgeous Sideshow Collectibles figures from 2001. Until today, I'd never taken mine out of the box. He's gorgeous, and looks just like Gene as Frederick.

His accessories include operating tools and a stethoscope, his lightning goggles, a nice textured stand, and a copy of his grandfather's book.

He has all the expected points of articulation for free posing (including a full range of motion at the ankles, which is nice) and stands about a foot high.

Sadly, I don't have the other two figures in this set (they also made an Igor and a Monster, of course) but you can look at them, and maybe even buy one, at this eBay link.

If I have a little extra time and energy before the month is out, maybe you'll see some more of this guy.

Also sadly, I don't have any of the more recent Funko toys. As you can see, they've chosen the same character lineup, but with a more stylised, cutesier design. (Well, ugly-cute, but that's in keeping with the franchise.)

They're shorter, too, so maybe I only want the Igor to keep my Sideshow Frederick company. Luckily, these guys are still widely available, and I just added all of them to my Amazon Wishlist.

As I mentioned in my last post, I haven't seen or read Mel's new book about the film yet, but I hope to very soon. And of course, there have always been T-shirts and soundtrack albums and tie-in magazine covers and the Young Frankenstein Flame Thrower ("A Children's Toy").

Finally for today, we're going to have a brief discussion of the Broadway musical adaptation of the film.

That video puts a happy spin on Mel's followup to his Producers bonanza, but the reviews and grosses weren't nearly as good. I'll be honest, I'm not much of a Broadway musical guy. (For some reason, the sound of a modern pitband grates on my nerves.) I saw The Producers (on a later tour, and then the movie version, which I preferred), and I enjoyed it well enough. But I didn't feel the need to ever see it again, or even rewatch the film version. I prefer the original film so much to either adaptation that, at least until Mel leaves us, I probably won't even relisten to the songs (which I remember as okay, but they didn't inspire me to buy the album).

Over on my Twitter feed, I compulsively notate every album I listen to, and this month I've done a lot of Halloween-themed listening. I heard this for the first time right after the Addams Family musical, which I enjoy whole-heartedly. I'm afraid Young Frankenstein pales in comparison, though.

A lot of the movie fits well into a musical-theater structure, and a lot of the movie's most important moments are well-represented in song (I really enjoyed the full treatment of "Roll In The Hay," based on just five seconds of the movie). But, while the songs work well musically, a lot of the lyrics aren't particularly clever. So much time is spent on innuendo that we don't get a lot of wordplay, or even much emotion or character development.

Sidebar: on the topic of "Deep Love," the part of the movie that has dated the worst is the Monster's rape of Elizabeth (to be fair, this was hinted at way back in Whale's 1931 film, but playing it for laughs is deeply troublesome). I get the impression (just from the songs, since I haven't seen a production) that they attempted to soften the blow of this by having Elizabeth be a recovered slut (which is, to my mind, just as troublesome). I know the movie is beloved, and any big change will alienate a lot of the core fanbase, but I think a change was possible that could avoid slut shaming and victim blaming in this case.

I don't think I'll ever love this musical adaptation, and I'm sad it's not better. I can't imagine a better film than Young Frankenstein. I can certainly imagine much better musicals made from it.

Legacy of Frankenstein #7: Young Frankenstein (1974)

Today, we're all about Young Frankenstein, Mel Brooks' best movie by far. Sure, Blazing Saddles may be funnier, but this one is stunning to look at, full of heart, and even the score is gorgeous. (Why oh why is the soundtrack out of print? I don't even have my LP copy to listen to anymore.)

200 years ago, Mary Wollstonecraft had a dream about a scientist creating a human, and that led to her invention of science fiction. Some 150 years later, also inspired by a dream, Gene Wilder sat down with a yellow legal pad and wrote a few pages of story about the grandson of Frankenstein. Once the ideas were developed, Mel Brooks brought the story to life (with help from a lot of the same cast and crew from Blazing Saddles).

Sidebar: How weird is it that both those films were released in just ten months? I'd argue that no director has ever had a better year in film history than Mel's 1974. (Okay, Spielberg's 1993 was pretty amazing.)

I've probably seen this one 20 times, so the movie holds no surprises for me anymore (though I was still sad I didn't get a chance to see it during its recent, brief revival on the big screen). While almost all the jokes hold up to repeated viewing, today I was amazed at how emotional the film can still make me. 

Reading obituaries and tributes to Gene Wilder, I kept reading that he made things funny by keeping them real and heartfelt. I hadn't put that together, since I saw most of his best work during my most formative years and wasn't always paying attention to emotions in hilarious comedies. But even with something as early as The Producers, Leo Bloom is hilarious only because we can care about him. This movie takes the time to let us sympathize with the characters (otherwise the frenetic jokes would be less funny, like a Scary Movie-type spoof). The scene with the creature in jail, being tormented by his keepers, has no laughs at all -- it exists just to stir our hearts.

The movie also takes the time to set scenes. Long, moody shots of the village and castle, and plenty of time for us to hear the score, not only ground the jokes, but make the whole conceit funnier as a specific parody of James Whale's movies about Frank. (The funniest scenes, for me, are particular burlesques of scenes from Whale.)

Sidebar #2: Like a few previous entries here, Greg Proops presented this film at his film club, where he recorded a podcast of jokes and commentary. He also relates his memories of Wilder and Marty Feldman. Listen to it here.

2016 has been a brutal year in a lot of ways (no politics talk here, promise). I was upset to lose David Bowie and Prince, but neither of them hurt me as much as the loss of Gene Wilder. He hasn't been doing much lately, but I love him as a person, and his best work stands as some of the best funny movies ever made. (I haven't seen all his work, but I get the impression that a lot of the 80s stuff is, franky, skippable.) There hasn't been a year since I started high school that I haven't seen, and enjoyed, and been cheered up by, a film of his. On hearing of his death, I didn't do a memorial watch of everything, like I did with Harold Ramis, but so much of Gene's work lives in my heart and inspires my sense of both comedy and art.

I'm glad that Mel is still around (and very much in the public eye) to carry the torch for all the departed friends who made this film, and that he still hangs out with Carl Reiner every day. (As if it weren't bad enough that Mel lost Anne Bancroft, Sid Caesar left us this year too.) I haven't yet read his book about this movie, but I definitely intend to.

This movie is indelible for comedy fans and horror fans, and even just for fans of movies in general. I'd argue that it's the best parody film ever, mostly because of its attention to detail and loving tribute to the genre. Also, it's so beloved that, like Universal's Frank franchise (Frank-chise? probably not), it's spawned lots of peripheral products, like toys and stage productions and such. Tomorrow, I'm talking about two of them.

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.

Legacy of Frankenstein #3: Edison's Frankenstein (1910)

Here's the first film adaptation of Frankenstein, from 1910. Film was still in its infancy (a lot of people credit this as the first-ever horror film), and it shows in this production: there are no close-ups or matched shots. There's rudimentary editing (cutting back and forth as Frankenstein watches the creature form), but little else in the way of craft.

However, there is one thing I truly loved about this film. The novel special effect of burning something all the way down, then running the film backwards, so it seems to magically form out of nothing, is still surprising and inspiring. It's a neat piece of movie magic.

The acting, as you might expect, is so big and stagey that there's no room for any nuance or humanity. But that's okay, since the movie throws out almost everything I liked about the novel. It's a simple boy-loves-girl, boy-creates-monster, monster-threatens-girl, love-destroys-monster story in this version. The movie's lack of interest in science leads us to believe that the Creature appears almost organically, from a magic brew. Then Frankenstein himself overcomes his evil temptations and the Creature literally melts away from reality. (It's almost a religious allegory, though not one with the depth or humanity that the original novel has.)

I've mentioned before that I don't often enjoy silent films, even when they're technically and artistically brilliant. This one, like Nosferatu, was completely lost to time, and there's a great story to learn about its rediscovery.  It's well-worth your thirteen minutes, if only to enjoy that one great trick shot.

Legacy of Frankenstein #2: Frankenstein, or The Modern Prometheus (1818)

Mary (Godwin) Shelley first published her novel Frankenstein, or The Modern Prometheus in 1818, though her name wasn't attached until a later edition (upon which, predictably, reviewers criticized the writing as feminine, as if that's such a bad thing).

The first edition was longer, less melodramatic, and much more pro-science than later editions, and is more philosophical than we might expect. The book spends a lot of time telling us how Victor Frankenstein learned science, and some little time on his rigorous experimentation. The middle section of the book is nearly completely taken up by the Creature's viewpoint, as he fluently articulates his own learning process, his hopes and dreams and humanity. The Creature in this book isn't Karloff's simple, childlike hulk, though he may wish he could have those simple pleasures. This Creature is literate, cunning, human, and deeply sad.

Shelley's introduction sketches out her creative process (as you probably know, the novel began life as a friendly challenge to tell a scary story) and her modest goals: to entertain (she decries the boring contemporary novel), and to remind people it's good to have friends ("the exhibition of the amiableness of domestic affection" is how she puts it). And that might sound like a silly premise for a horror novel, even if you're writing the first horror novel ever. But it's true: the elaborate framing device is powered by a man's loneliness, and the Creature's evil is caused, he tells us, since he can never know true companionship.

Victor's scientific breakthroughs come at the expense of his relationships: he stops talking to his family and friends for weeks, months, years. Shelley's friends gave up on their stories as soon as the sun came out and they felt like going outside to hang, but she stuck it out and wrote this novel. And, to make a mountain of a molehill, even I, your devoted blogger, am sitting next to my sleeping wife, tapping this out rather than throwing my arm over her and dreaming together, since I'm driven to write this.

People want to create, to leave lasting impressions. But, as Victor finds out, careless half-assery leads to bad children (the Creature also blames his evil ways on Victor's shocked abandonment of him) and unintended consequences. (At least my half-assed blogging probably won't cause the death of everyone I've ever loved, so I'm one-up on the good doctor there). At the risk of sounding like a ridiculous cliche new-age crystal-waver, the secret is in balance. My schedule's tight, but I can read books and write about them and talk with my friends and sleep next to my wife too.

I listened to a free audio version of the original text, read by Cori Samuel. If you have eight hours, I'd highly recommend that you do the same. Her sensitive, no-frills delivery of the story was the perfect voice. Of course, you can always buy a paper edition instead:

Legacy of Frankenstein #1: The Infinite Monkey Cage

What? No big deal, I'm just blogging again.

We don't really know specific dates, but this summer marked the 200th anniversary of Mary Godwin (later Mary Shelley) first creating science fiction and horror as we know them, in the form of Frankenstein. The first version of the book was published in subsequent years, and then underwent constant transformation in its text, meaning, and unstoppable adaptation. I'm going to experience a lot of the best Frankenstein-related media ever, and have decided to start the blogging with a quick mention of the show that inspired me to do so.

Professor Brian Cox and Comedian Robin Ince have, for a few years now, hosted a BBC radio show about science. Frequently, they also discuss popular culture. Their penultimate show addresses the Frankenstein anniversary.

I came into this show completely fresh, knowing only basic cultural-osmosis stuff about the story and its creation, so I really appreciated the deep dive into both Godwin's influences and creative process, and the science inherent in the story. I always like it when knowledgeable people discuss their field of inquiry as it appears in art. Hearing a biologist discuss exactly how impossible the reanimation process would be was great fun for me.

The panelists also pointed out that the original text of the book was much more pro-science, so that's the version I'll be reading soon, and presumably blogging about soon thereafter.

Finally, my favorite spooky TV goth, Noel Fielding, had the chance to discuss science, magic, and monsters, and tell a few off-color jokes.

If you have any interest in science or horror at all, the radio show is well worth a listen. The show-specific link up there will (as of this writing, at least -- I can't say how long it will be available) let you listen to the edited radio version, a tight 30 minutes. BUT! They also release an extended podcast, with at least 50% more goodness, and that's what I recommend. You can (as of this writing) get the extended podcast version on iTunes here, or listen at this link.

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.