A Law Unto Themselves

After three ultra successful films, the Frankenstein franchise was met with the task of replacing its key piece in Boris Karloff... who had a scheduling conflict and chose Arsenic and Old Lace (the play that would turn into the iconic movie just two years later) over another sequel – of which he was tiring of doing. Deciding upon another one of their monster masters as a replacement, Lon Chaney Jr. took up the mantle and became the Monster in The Ghost of Frankenstein (celebrating its 80th anniversary this 2022). Though this is where a dip in creativity, nuance, and horror is noticed, it doesn’t mean that this isn’t a lot of fun. Taking place almost immediately after 1939's Son of Frankenstein, director Erle C. Kenton reintroduces us to poor Ygor (Bela Lugosi), who was riddled with bullets and suffered a broken neck... but he simply won’t die. Now, he just sits patiently by the sulfur pits that have swallowed up his only friend, the Frankenstein Monster (Chaney Jr.).

Sometimes, a movie title can be misleading. Imagine heading to the theatre in 1960, excited to see Terence Fisher’s Hammer horror film The Brides of Dracula, only for the opening voice-over to exclaim, just a couple of seconds in, that Dracula is dead – that might be a bit of a letdown. But don’t worry, a new vampire will rise to start his own harem. I know what you must be thinking... did he immigrate to Europe from Utah? No, he’s one of those unusual, ultra kinky Europeans, but more on that later.

Though definitely not the most iconic version of Gaston Leroux’s much loved horror romance novel, 1943's Phantom of the Opera is opulence personified. Directed by Arthur Lubin (the man behind so many classic comedies with Abbott and Costello. . . though he had already proven that he could do darker work with Lugosi and Karloff in 1940's Black Friday), the movie is actually filmed on the set constructed for the legendary Lon Chaney Sr. 1925 version. . . built to be completely identical to the actual Paris Opera House (a true masterpiece of set design). This version is shot in stunning Technicolor, every single hue popping to create an eye-catching pastiche. Paired with creative cinematography that at times reaches German Expressionism like chiaroscuro lighting (especially when filming the Phantom), this really is a treat to look at. It is then all pieced together with creative crane shots, intriguing static angles and so much more, a technical masterpiece that cannot be denied.

An intriguing reworking of Daniel Defoe’s classic 1719 novel “Robinson Crusoe”, director Byron Haskin, who in 1953 brought aliens from Mars to Earth with the epic The War of the Worlds, this time flips the script and takes us to the red planet with the sci-fi cult classic Robinson Crusoe on Mars (1964). Though falling comfortably within the sci-fi genre, Paramount’s promotional team clearly reveled in the movie’s attempted accuracy – the trailer and advertising posters reading: “This film is scientifically authentic. It is only one step ahead of present reality”. And, in many ways, it was impressively accurate for what was known at that moment. Released at the perfect time in history, 1964 was just one year prior to the first spacecraft fly by of Mars... before that, all that we knew was by way of observation through telescope.

It’s intriguing to think how time tends to shrink an actors or directors filmography. . . the passing years seeming to erase movies (be them lesser, unrelatable to present viewpoints, simply lost to time, or so on). For instance, Lionel Barrymore – once one of the biggest stars in Hollywood, a two time Academy Award nominee (and one time winner), is mostly known for his cantankerous and utterly realistic portrayal of villainy as Mr. Potter in the Frank Capra Christmas classic It’s a Wonderful Life. In actuality, he has an impressive 217 acting credits to his name, while many may not even know that he was also a director. . . today’s film his fourteenth and final credited effort – Ten Cents a Dance (1931). A title pulled from a popular 1930 song of the same name (written by Richard Rodgers, lyrics by Lorenz Hart, originally sung by Ruth Etting), the playful, jazzy romp sways over both the opening credits as well as when the screen turns black at the end of the film. A tune lamenting the work of a taxi dancer, that is, a girl hired to shimmy with libidinous men at a happening nightclub for ten cents a dance, poor Barbara O’Neill (Barbara Stanwyck) is our titular character.

Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned – there is no doubt Pre-Code cinema thrived on this ancient idiom. A prime example is George B. Seitz’s 1931 romance driven drama, Arizona (based on a famous play of the time written by Augustus Thomas). Poor Evelyn Palmer (Laura La Plante) – she’s been in a very secretive romantic tryst with one of the Army’s top up and comers, Lt. Bob Denton (a very early starring role for John Wayne). Charming, debonair, and a supreme athlete (he’s the star full back in the annual Army-Navy football game... they even send him in to kick the extra point to win the game), Evelyn has spent the last two years of her life courting the catch. . . only for him to break it off after his memorable performance (saying he never planned on marrying her after all).