Showing posts with label Browning (Tod). Show all posts
Showing posts with label Browning (Tod). Show all posts

Saturday, October 9, 2010

Freaks (1932) **

freaks-poster

The title of this classic 1932 film is not what one might call politically correct. There are few films in all of cinema that can be classified in the horror realism genre (one might think of The Blair Witch Project or the original Texas Chainsaw Massacre, but they are severely flawed wannabes). Yet, director Tod Browning’s Freaks is one of those few films that blends realism with horror. The freaks in the film’s title are actual 1930s carnival and circus freaks, with all of their deformities on full display. It is said that Browning had the largest casting call of professional freaks ever, and it shows. When watching this film one can’t help but be disturbed by some of the afflictions of these “freaks.” Quite frankly, this is an odd, disturbing film. The film was so shocking that it was actually banned in a number of places. It was later rediscovered on the art house circuit and today is a common staple of TCM’s October schedule.

Browning, of course, is most known for directing Bela Lugosi in the original Dracula (1931). Yet, many film critics consider Freaks to be his masterpiece (not that there was much to choose from) because of his unflinching presentation of another strange reality unfamiliar to the common moviegoer. freaks-1932-director-tod-browningI tend to agree with the critics on this one. In regards to the horror genre, I find Freaks much creepier and frightening than Dracula. Now, if you want to see a truly frightening take on the vampire myth watch Nosferatu: A Symphony of Terror (1922).

The film opens with a carnival barker explaining the events that led to the beautiful “Peacock of the Air”, trapeze artist Cleopatra’s (Olga Baclanova) horrible current state. At this moment, one might prepare oneself for watching a trapeze act gone terribly bad—one would be wrong. Instead, one is treated to one of the freaks2strangest downfalls in all of cinema history. It would seem that Hans (Harry Earles), a wealthy carnival dwarf (don’t ask why he works in a carnival if he’s rich, just go with it) is smitten with Cleopatra. Her beauty and “normalness” makes Hans forget all about his dwarf fiancé Frieda (Daisy Earles). Seeing an easy way to rid themselves of the carnival life and all of the freaks they despise, Cleopatra and her strongman lover Hercules (cliché, anyone?) hatch an unsavory plot. By feigning love and admiration for Hans, Cleopatra convinces the dwarf that they should marry. This leads to one of the strangest wedding feasts ever.

The assembled guests at the wedding table consists of all freaks, sans Cleopatra and Hercules. This is a sight to behold. After consuming way too much alcohol, one of the freaks informs Cleopatra that she is now one of them. Oh, no you didn’t! This, of course, enrages Cleopatra and she launches into full bitch mode by calling her guests “dirty” and “slimy”. harry-earles-180As if that wasn’t enough, she belittles and demeans her new husband by carrying him around on her shoulders like a child or, even worse, a pet chimp. This does not bode well for the wedding night. Which, of course, leads to the reason why Cleopatra married him in the first place: so she and Hercules could kill Hans with poison and then run off with his money.

The scene where she informs Hans that she could never love a freak like him and that their marriage is a sham is difficult to watch. The look on Han’s face is just so pitiful. I suppose Harry Earles had a lot of past insults to draw from when it came to playing this scene. Shocked and humiliated, Hans collapses—of course, the poison didn’t help either. Counting their chickens before they’ve hatched (if you’ve seen this film, you know this is a sad attempt at a pun), Freaks1Hercules and Cleopatra freely discuss how many doses of poison it will take to kill Hans. When another freak overhears them, he goes for a doctor. Of course, the dose was so small that the doctor thinks it was an accident and he pronounces that Hans will make a full recovery with the aid of his medicine. Well, now you know that instead of giving Hans his medicine she’s going to substitute poison! In the end, the freaks band together and issue their own sadistic form of retribution. Hence, the grisly spectacle that the carnival barker is describing to the crowd: a legless squawking chicken-woman. What an ending… Oh, wait, yes, upon orders from MGM they had to tack on a happy ending with Hans and Frieda. Personally, the film should have ended with that shocking image of Cleopatra.

While this is not the greatest film you will ever see, it is an interesting watch. The pure shock value of some of the scenes is enough to warrant spending a mere 64 minutes watching Tod Browning’s best film.

Monday, January 18, 2010

Dracula (1931) **

dracula

Notice the caption on the above poster: “A Nightmare of Horror”? It was no-doubt dedicated to all the men who have forgotten to buy a card or send flowers on Valentine’s Day—the day this film was released in 1931. Only a male producer would think this would be a good release date for a film about a man who sucks the lifeblood out of women!

In this classic horror film, directed by Tod Browning, Bela Lugosi immortalized the image of Dracula for countless generations. Based on the 1897 Bram Stoker novel of the same name, the film follows English real estate agent Renfield (Dwight Frye) to Eastern Europe and his fateful meeting with Count Dracula. Evidently Renfield was a typical Englishmen, because only an Englishman would dismiss an entire warning village as superstitious. Add the fact that he didn’t jump off a bat-driven coach and it’s easy to see why British nobles would rather remain land rich and bank account poor than have to deal with real estate agents.

Anyway, the most impressive scenes take place after he arrives at the castle. I suppose 1931 audiences found the huge castle door creakingly opening on its own impressive. The opening shots of the deserted and dusty castle are eerie. When the sharp-dressed Dracula glides down the staircase and introduces himself in Lugosi’s Hungarian accent he obviously knew how stupid Renfield was because he emphasized his name: Drac-u-la.

dracula1931 We soon learn that Renfield had been hired to find Dracula a home in England. Dracula is told about Carfax Abbey, but unlike many consumers he doesn’t need to see the Carfax to know he wants the property. He informs Renfield he’s chartered a ship to take them to England, and remembers who he’s dealing with and specifies they will be leaving in the “eve - n - ing." Soon after, Renfield cuts his finger on a paper clip and the count’s countenance changes at the sight of blood. Luckily for Renfield one of the superstitious villagers gave him a crucifix and this sends the count to cover his eyes in agitation. The count offers Renfield a glass of drugged wine and declines to imbibe with his guest uttering the classic, “I never drink...wi-i-i-ne”—coincidentally this film is not a French auteur favorite. Soon Renfield passes out and Dracula has a midnight snack. Oh, don’t be sad for Renfield, we quickly learn he’s still alive when we find him sailing the high seas with his “master” and his coffins. When the ship docks all that is found is a dead crew and a crazy bug-eating Renfield—he’s carted off to the Seward sanitarium, which is coincidentally located next to Carfax.

In London the count shows his appreciation for the arts: the symphony, opera, and bloodsucking. This is where he meets Dr. Seward and his daughter Mina (Helen Chandler), as well as her fiancée Jonathan Harker (David Manners) and her idiotic friend Lucy. The count drops a line about his castle in Transylvania and Lucy instantly becomes enamored with him—will women never learn? Later that night the count flies (via Bat-suit) into Lucy’s open bedroom window and has another snack. When Lucy is found and brought to the sanitarium it is determined that nothing can be done for her.

They decide to consult Professor Van Helsing (Edward Van Sloane), an expert on the occult, about the string of unusual deaths. By using Renfield’s “undead” blood the professor determines that they are dealing with Nosferatu (but unfortunately not the ultra-sexy Max Schreck version); a vampire. The next evening Dracula pays a visit to Mina’s room. As Mina’s personality begins to change she warns Jonathan about the strange dreams she’s been having about howling wolves and breath on her lips. When Van Helsing examines Mina he finds bite marks on her throat. Before the examination can continue the count is introduced and Mina does her best impression of an Van Sloanunfulfilled nympho. Van Helsing soon notices this behavior (as would anyone with eyes), as well as the fact that the count shows no reflection in the lid of Jonathan’s cigarette case—yet another reason not to stop smoking. After Dracula makes a hasty exit, the professor pronounces him as a vampire.

While Van Helsing is jabbering on about his theories, Mina wanders out of the house and is accosted by Dracula. In one of the more famous dracula-1931-horror-movie-review-21120006images of the film we see the count lift up his cape and totally envelop Mina with it. They later find her, barely alive, on the lawn.

Meanwhile, the “Woman in White”, a.ka. Lucy, is roaming the streets offering chocolates to children for their blood—a step up from free rides at Neverland Ranch I would think. Van Helsing learns from Mina that Lucy is a part of the count’s harem. As night approaches, Van Helsing adorns Mina with wolfsbane (some plant anti-vampire repellant) and closes all her bedroom windows. The plan to save Mina? Find the count’s hiding place and drive a stake through his heart. Evidently this plan angers the count, because he soon appears before Van Helsing and the men engage in Stare Down 1931. The professor uses bush league tactics, using a cross to drive Dracula out of the house. Ah, but the damage has been done, as the count paid a visit to Mina before the staring match. This is quickly confirmed when Mina tries to bite Jonathan’s neck, only to be saved by Van Helsing’s handy cross.

Later, Dracula returns to claim his new bride and take her to Carfax. While this is happening, Jonathan and Van Helsing decide to tail Renfield, who leads them to Carfax just in time to see the count taking Mina into the cellar. An enraged Dracula strangles Renfield for his betrayal and then flees into the cellar with Mina. Van Helsing and Jonathan pursue them and at day break find the count’s coffin and drive a stake through his heart. Fortunately the count didn’t have time to completely transform Mina before the rising sun and with his death her soul is freed. Thus, allowing, presumably, the two lovers to walk in the sunlight together for the rest of their lives.

When you watch this film today it seems a bit cheesy. Yet, you must remember that it was made in 1931, and so what we call horror today cannot be applied to a film made almost 70 years ago. What this film did was launch the horror genre in Hollywood, specifically at Universal.

The cinematography of Karl Freund is superb. The many tracking and overhead crane shots created an otherworldly atmosphere. Director Tod Browning must have remembered how well Murnau used lighting to create shadows in Nosferatu, because he employs the same technique in many shots.dracula1931-still

The acting leaves something to be desired. This doesn’t mean that Lugosi didn’t do a good job with the overall creepiness of Dracula, because he did. Yet, I just can’t seem to see the sexually charged elements Dracula is supposed to possess in Lugosi. Yes, I know they say some women fainted in the aisles upon seeing this film. Who knows, perhaps they forgot to eat that day… As for the rest of the cast, they were a bit campy. There is a reason that this film launched a string of B-movie horror/monster films.

Overall, I would say that if you want to see where the Hollywood horror genre was launched, then you should watch this film. It is not the greatest horror movie ever made, but it is significant to film history.

Sunday, January 17, 2010

The Unknown (1927) **

Ever wanted something so bad you said you’d give your right arm for it? Why so cheap, wuss?

Tod Browning directs this 1927 classic silent film starring Lon Chaney and Joan Crawford as circus performers. Alonzo the Armless (Chaney) amazes circus patrons with his astonishing ability to toss knives with his feet. The problem is Alonzo is a fake (really, a fake circus freak—is nothing sacred!) and a fugitive, who feigns his disability in an effort to hide his two-thumbed right hand from the police. The object of Alonzo’s affection is Nanon (Crawford), a woman who cannot stand the touch of a man—think Ellen DeGeneres 80 years later). While spurning the attentions of Malabar the strongman, Nanon befriends the harmless Alonzo. When Nanon’s father discovers that Alonzo is a fake, Alonzo strangles him while Nanon looks on through a window. When questioned by the police Nanon reveals that she only saw the double thumbed right hand of the murderer. This gives Alonzo the perfect alibi, but presents another problem for him. Even if his love could one day overcome her intimacy issues he could never reveal his hand to her. And, so Alonzo makes the decision to have both his arms cut off for real. Yes, I know right now you’re humming those famous lyrics by Meatloaf: "I’d do anything for love, but I won’t do that", but that’s just because you’re a wuss. Anyway, while Alonzo is lovingly having his arms chopped off Nanon is conquering her intimacy problems and falling into the still attached arms of Malabar. Upon his return, Alonzo learns that his love is cured and in love with the strongman. When Alonzo breaks down into both hysterical tears and laughter the couple assumes that he’s happy for them. Well, he didn’t lose those damn arms for nothing! After learning that the couple’s new act involves the strongman having his arms pulled by horses whipped by Nanon, Alonzo rigs the act hoping to kill (or at least maim, tit for tat you know) Malabar. When Nanon gets in the way of the riled horses Alonzo pushes her out of the way and is promptly stomped to death. At this moment one can’t help but think of this MasterCard ad: Admission to the circus: $10; Pink Cotton Candy: $1.00; Two Dismembered Arms: $5,000; Being Stomped to Death for Love: Priceless…

Most people know Tod Browning as the director of Dracula and Freaks (and some weirdoes who like The Devil-Doll), but The Unknown is considered by many as his greatest film. Personally, I like Freaks better, but this film is quite entertaining. Chaney gives a great performance and Crawford is, well, silent—and not even Bette Davis could say this was a bad thing. The ironic twist of fate that befalls Alonzo is one for the cinematic ages—M. Night Shyamalan would be proud. One added bonus is John George as Cojo, Alonzo’s dwarf assistant—"Cojo will never tell!" Dracula had Renfield, right?

So, if you’re a fan of Browning or Chaney and you like pseudo-sexual-psychological dramas, you will enjoy this film. If you’re a creepy stalker, take heed.