Halloween with The Wolf Man

I noticed an odd thing tonight while watching The Wolf Man (1941).  Early in the film, Lon Chaney visits the antique shop where Evelyn Ankers works so he can ask her out on a date. There's a sentimental piece of music playing in the background which sounded strangely familiar. Obviously many of the Universal horror films of the 1940s used the same stock music, but this sounded like a piece from a non-horror film, and I wracked my brains trying to remember which film it was. 

Finally it came to me:  Alfred Hitchcock's Saboteur (1942), also released by Universal.  It's the same sentimental music used when Robert Cummings and Priscilla Lane are together. But I wanted to make sure, so I went to the IMDb and looked for the composer of the original music for the Hitchcock film. Frank Skinner. Then I looked at the composers for The Wolf Man. Three names, one of them Frank Skinner. But Hitch was already too important a director to be using stock music for his films, so Skinner must have been recycling some of his sentimental romantic music for Saboteur.  At the very least, the two pieces of music are awfully similar and bear his imprint.  I'm sure a scholar of the film can flesh the details out for me.

As for the film itself, what can I say except... it's The Wolf Man! A film distinguished from other Universal horror films in my mind because of the immense sadness that hangs over the entire story. Larry Talbot doesn't want to be a werewolf, he doesn't enjoy killing people (at least when he thinks about it the morning after when he's returned to human form) and he gives his silver-topped wolf cane to his father, knowing that his dad -- the magnificent Claude Rains -- will protect himself from Larry with it. Which of course he does. Naturally, that doesn't stop Larry from coming back in Frankenstein Meets The Wolf Man, where Chaney and Lugosi meet again. How ironic that Lugosi, as Bela the Gypsy, is the werewolf in The Wolf Man before biting Chaney and turning him into one.  Seems that Lugosi always gets the first bite.

So. A beautifully done film with an excellent script by Curt Siodmak, a superb lead and fine supporting actors, with admirable art direction and production design. Even makeup man extraordinaire Jack Pierce gets his name in the credits, even though we don't see the facial transformation of Larry into a werewolf in this particular film. But why quibble?  What's better than watching The Wolf Man on Halloween night?

Abbott and Costello Meet Frankenstein (1948)

In honor of Halloween, I watched this great comedy horror film again Saturday night on Svengoolie for what must be the 50th time, or something like that. I still marvel at how seamlessly the comedy and horror blend together into a perfect whole. Ironically, the introduction of Abbott and Costello infused new blood (no pun intended) into the franchise. And the "appearance" of Vincent Price's voice as the Invisible Man at the very end was the cherry on top of this very rich ice cream sundae. Plus the film gives you lots of Bela for your buck.  Not to mention that Walter Lantz of Woody Woodpecker fame did the animation sequences.  Kudos also to Lon Chaney, Jr., Glenn Strange, Lenore Aubert, the wonderful Frank Ferguson, and Bud and Lou, for a grand entertainment indeed.  As critic Leonard Maltin said, the movie works because "the monsters play it straight."  Just as performances of the Greek tragedies would be followed by a comedy, so the Frankenstein/ Dracula / Wolf Man series comes to an end with a laugh.

Dracula (1931)

Last night I watched Bela Lugosi and company in the 1931 Dracula for the first time in many years. I've seen clips from the film since then, but this was the first time I viewed it from beginning to end in a long while.  I was immediately drawn into the brilliantly eerie atmosphere. With all its flaws, and it does have some, it's still a masterpiece. Yet I continue to feel the movie ends a bit abruptly.  Indeed the subplot with Lucy, which was included in the script, was partially deleted from the film. You get a little bit of it and then the movie drops it. I think that was a mistake.  

I also paid close attention to the famous piece of torn cardboard leaning against the lamp in both Lucy and Mina's bedroom.  Apparently nurses would use the cardboard to shield the light from their patients who were sleeping in the bed next to them while the nurse read a book. Yet that doesn't explain why the cardboard shows up in Lucy's bedroom next to the lamp before she even needs a nurse. There's no explanation for it in the film, and anyone looking at it on a big screen has to wonder what that ugly piece of cardboard is doing there in both scenes. I've read that one shot from the earlier scene was taken and used for the later scene. And the famous Spanish version of Dracula (1931), the furniture is arranged differently and there's no cardboard light diffuser at all.

Nevertheless, Lugosi continues to compel, and the film offers many chilling delights to this day. I think I may have underrated Helen Chandler's performance in the past. She's very good when she's possessed by Dracula. Her eyes are mesmerizing.  

Another thing that Rhodes points out is that a close examination of the English and Spanish Draculas reveals the Tod Browning moved his camera more often than people recall.  His camera was not as static as is often believed.  

One final note. When the couple ask Van Helsing if he will be coming with them, he says "not right now, presently." Apparently Universal was going to have him speak to the audience at the end much the way he does at the beginning of Frankenstein. But the scene was never included in the film and it leaves a mystery in the mind of some viewers.  

But all nitpicking aside, this is a landmark horror film that can be watched with pleasure again and again.  I just wish it was a bit longer.  Which may be yet another indication of a great film.