Lon Chaney Jr

Spider Baby or, the Maddest Story Ever Told (1967)

Spider Baby or, the Maddest Story Ever Told (1967)

(On Cable TV, September 2020) Whew, that was a wild one. By modern standards, Spider Baby isn’t all that wild—it’s about a family of killer children, the man taking care of them, and what happens when there’s an intruder into their well-regimented lives. But by 1967 standards, it’s something else. Two or three factors conspire to make the film feel even older (and wilder) than it is: Obviously, the black-and-white cinematography at a time when most movies were shifting to colour. (This is not entirely accidental—Spider Baby was shot in 1964, but not released until years later due to the producers’ bankruptcy.) Then there’s the presence of none other than Lon Chaney Jr. as the girls’ caretaker, harkening back to a much older tradition of horror films. The result, of course, is not straight horror: there’s enough dark comedy here to echo the Archers/Hammer British film tradition. But much of the film’s interest is in just seeing what the script throws up on screen in an effort to make viewers uneasy or better yet queasy. I can’t say that the result is all that good: there are a lot of meandering tangents here that take away from the main story, and Spider Baby isn’t exactly focused on narrative when there are so many creepy sequences to lay out. Still, it’s an experience, and it straddles an interesting period in horror looking back at the classics and anticipating much more disturbing things to come.

Bud Abbott and Lou Costello Meet Frankenstein (1948)

(On TV, February 2020) Whenever anyone complains about Hollywood taking on the silliest premises in the name of profit, remind them that dubious high-concepts have been in the film industry’s DNA for a very, very long time. Bud Abbott and Lou Costello Meet Frankenstein is not the first nor the worst example, but it’s wild enough to be remembered. By 1946, Universal had been in the Monster Movie business for a decade and a half—long enough to look for ways to spice it up, and the one they picked was melding it with their Abbott and Costello comedy franchise. Crossovers: They’re not new! Despite the title, it’s a comic companion to the big three of the Universal Monster roster, as Dracula and the Wolf Man join Frankenstein for the fun. And fun it is—hitting several comedy registers (physical, verbal, conceptual), this is a film with something for everyone, and it doesn’t overstay its welcome at 83 minutes. The brain transplant comic premise is funny enough, and Lenore Aubert is very cute in the lead female role. Acting-wise, though, Lon Chaney Jr. looks like a terrific actor next to Abbott and Costello. Universal clearly threw everything they had in store at the time: the live-action also features special effects and animation. Bud Abbott and Lou Costello Meet Frankenstein certainly wasn’t meant as great cinema, but a counterbalance of sorts to the seriousness of the Universal Monster movies… and it still works.

Of Mice and Men (1939)

Of Mice and Men (1939)

(On Cable TV, September 2019) In some ways, there’s very little to say about the 1939 adaptation of John Steinbeck’s Of Mice and Men—It’s a solid drama, an adaptation tailored to the big screen (in altering some plot elements for easier consumption) and an actor’s showcase as well. It’s very much like the novel you likely read in high school. One of the advantages of the film adaptation is how it depicts the migrant worker life in the 1930s, adding another layer of interest to the story of its two protagonists. Burgess Meredith has the lead role as George, but Lon Chaney Jr. has probably his finest dramatic role as the hulking Lennie. Competently shot in black-and-white and with admirable restraint when it comes to the depiction of its most violent moments, Of Mice and Men hasn’t aged all that much—it’s firmly set in the 1930s and has become a period piece along the way. It’s one more piece of evidence for 1939 as one of the finest years for cinema, and an engrossing film in its own right.

The Phantom of the Opera (1925)

The Phantom of the Opera (1925)

(On TV, July 2018) Even for sympathetic cinephiles like myself, watching silent movies can often feel like an imposed chore. Some of the 1920s dramas can be a test of anyone’s patience with lengthy running time made even worse by title cards, with overdone acting, primitive cinematographic grammar, hackneyed stories and outdated social mores. But there are exceptions—comedy movies à la Buster Keaton work on a purely physical level, and genre stories still work on pure plot and ideas. So it is that The Phantom of the Opera may have most of the problems of 1920s silent cinema, but it still works because it tells a familiar story with enough grace and style that it’s hard to resist. You probably know the plot if only because Gaston Leroux’s novel has been remade once in 1986 as a massively successful musical (can you hum the title tune? I’m doing so right now), which was then turned into a 2004 movie. But the original still has a kick of its own—relatively fast paced at less than two hours, it also features Lon Chaney as The Phantom (watch out for when he takes off the mask!) and a period atmosphere that still feels quite enjoyable. The big romance at the heart of the plot is timeless, and it’s actually fun to see the phantom wreak havoc in the Paris Opera House. There aren’t that many silent movies that still carry this much pure non-comic entertainment power. On a historical level, this very first version of The Phantom of the Opera is also notable in that it was enough of a financial hit that it motivated Universal Studios to launch a number of horror projects that eventually led to the classic “Universal Monsters” franchise—The Phantom of the Opera is sometimes mentioned as part of the franchise, although they’re usually talking about the 1943 version in doing so rather than the now-public domain 1925 one. (And if you want to get a glimpse at the complex horrors of silent-film preservation, have a look at the later half of the film’s Wikipedia page. Geez.).

The Wolf Man (1941)

The Wolf Man (1941)

(On TV, July 2018) The 1941 original version of The Wolf Man is rightly considered one of the big-five Universal Horror monsters (alongside early-thirties Dracula, Frankenstein, The Mummy and The Invisible Man), so it’s a bit of a surprise to find out, throughout the film, how much of it seems to differ from our codified understanding of the werewolf monster. This film (scripted by legendary SF writer Curt Siodmak) does bring together werewolves and silver, but not necessarily shape-shifting under a full moon—which is a later innovation. As with many Universal Monsters foundational texts, there is a substantial romantic component at work here, and a cinematography that bridges between German expressionism and American film noir. Lon Chaney Jr has quite a presence as the titular wolf man, anchoring a potentially silly story into something with romantic gravitas. The film has surprisingly good makeup and special effects, though they come in fairly late in the movie. Despite some mythology weirdness compared with the contemporary version of the werewolf monster, The Wolf Man did create much of the myth and so remains a mandatory viewing for horror fans—fortunately, it happens to be a decent movie still.