The Black Room (1935).

Review #2454: The Black Room (1935).

Cast: 

Boris Karloff (Baron Gregor de Berghmann / Anton de Berghmann), Marian Marsh (Thea Hassel), Robert Allen (Lt. Albert Lussan), Thurston Hall (Col. Paul Hassel), Katherine DeMille (Maska), John Buckler (Buran), Henry Kolker (Baron de Bergman), Colin Tapley (Lt. Paul Hassel), and Torben Meyer (Peter)

Directed by Roy William Neill (#846 - Frankenstein Meets the Wolf Man, #873 - Sherlock Holmes and the Secret Weapon, #925 - Sherlock Holmes in Washington, #936 - Sherlock Holmes Faces Death, #1021 - The Spider Woman, #1040 - The Scarlet Claw, #1056 - The Pearl of Death, #1161 - The House of Fear, #1216 - The Woman in Green, #1262 - Pursuit to Algiers, #1620 - Terror by Night, #1681 - Dressed to Kill)

Review: 

Sure, let's see someone play double for historical horror. This was made by Columbia Pictures with the original intent of being titled "The Black Room Mystery" that had Boris Karloff appear in a one-off from them, doing so in the year where you could see him in Bride of Frankenstein and The Raven but without being billed as just "KARLOFF" or with as much makeup this time around. The evident choice to direct was to go with Roy William Neill, a dependable vet for many movies (some for Columbia, as one does when directing since the 1910s) in one of his last films before moving to London for a five-year visit in 1935; for whatever reason, he is billed as "R. William Neill" in the movie. I assume from the varying levels of information one could find about the movie (i.e. one that had a story from Arthur Strawn, who was credited with writing the film with Henry Myers) that the movie has languished a bit in obscurity, but Karloff kept busy with performances at any rate.

It is a neat little movie, when you get down to it. The 68-minute runtime lends itself to a welcome surprise when you figure that Karloff really is playing three roles: a benevolent nice twin, his evil (and older) twin brother...and the impersonation of the former by the latter. You might wonder what the title is about, and, well, it refers to a room where apparently an older brother will be killed by his young brother in a certain room of the castle (yep, it's a baron who worries about his sons, particularly since he'll die before they get old). Why the room wasn't just sealed up way, way before is anybody's guess (of course it is sealed up early in the movie only to be revealed to be in use again). For a movie that has a good chunk spent in a castle setting to go along with the usual melodrama approach of its time (a bit of haughty stuff and stuff you hear about more than see, some for obvious reason). It is evident Karloff is pretty good in the movie, specifically when playing his dastardly evil twin that shows more malice in what he is shown to do more than if he was simply in an effects-laden role (or in a less subtle movie about someone throwing women in a pit). His impersonation of the good twin (remember he is meant to have a bad arm) is especially fascinating, one that we know has cracks in the foundation but is still amusing to see how long he could actually pull off the act of benevolence. The rest of the actors are fine, with Marsh pulling in a bit of despair to come from being the object of a supposed nice person that can't even write their own fate (spoiler, it is a dog who plays into the climax). At least the climax is a hoot, finding a way around the whole "wait, how does one die by someone's hand?" thing before swiftly ending. In a way, it is like a fairy tale (okay Joe Dante said that [in regard to the sets], but judge for yourself anyway) with a dash of macabre that is worth looking into more than just being for those who like Karloff. In general, you have a solidly fine movie, not a great one by any means beside possibly its set design and ways around having someone play two roles on the same screen, but it is still a neat one to go with for those who like a bit of Gothic melodrama.

Overall, I give it 7 out of 10 stars.

Unconquered (1947).

Review #1371: Unconquered.

Cast:
Gary Cooper (Captain Christopher Holden), Paulette Goddard (Abby Hale), Howard Da Silva (Martin Garth), Boris Karloff (Guyasuta, Chief of the Senecas), Cecil Kellaway (Jeremy Love), Ward Bond (John Fraser), Virginia Campbell (Mrs. John Fraser), Katherine DeMille (Hannah), Henry Wilcoxon (Captain Steele), C. Aubrey Smith (Lord Chief Justice), and Victor Varconi (Captain Simeon Ecuyer) Directed and Produced by Cecil B. DeMille (#1245 - The Squaw Man)

Review: 
"Creativity is a drug I cannot live without."

When it comes to innovators and crucial pieces of cinema to link past and present, Cecil B. DeMille serves as a key member of sound and silent cinema for America. He made 70 films from 1914 to 1958 that were known for their epic scale and showmanship. He developed a love of the theater from his playwright father (who suddenly died when Cecil was 11), and he graduated from the American Academy of Dramatic Arts (after time with military college) in 1900. He started his career as an actor that same year, and he would later turn to directing and producing plays in the 1910s. He was soon introduced to Broadway producer Jesse L. Lasky by his producer mother Beatrice, and the two would join forces with Samuel Goldwyn alongside Oscar Apfel to form the Jesse L. Lasky Feature Play Company in 1913, with their studio being a barn in Hollywood, one of the first in the region that is now a state landmark (named after Lasky and DeMille). Their landmark first feature was from DeMille and Apfel with The Squaw Man (1914), which was DeMille's debut (he of course would later film two remakes of the material). DeMlle spent his time directing numerous films nonstop, with his style soon being characterized by having extensive research that turned into collaboration with writers to mold a story together in his vision, which also applied to his efforts on visuals along with editing and lighting. He did not tend to give direction much to actors, preferring to work with them in the office with read-throughs as opposed to doing so on set, where he was an authoritarian that commanded attention from his cast and crew, no matter how big they could be. Actors who did not want to take physical risks for the sake of the film could incur his wrath, such as with this film, where Goddard objected to risk herself for a scene with hurling fireballs (which not surprisingly was proven correct when the stuntwoman later got burned for the scene). He didn't speak to her for years and later denied her a role in one of his subsequent films. Although he is known for his spectacle epics, he directed a variety of genres over the course of his career, ranging from Westerns to romances to comedies, with numerous highlights being Cleopatra (1934), The Greatest Show on Earth (1952, his lone Best Picture win), and The Ten Commandments (1956, a remake of his 1923 film that served as his last venture), and he has served as influence and inspiration to directors such as Steven Spielberg and Martin Scorsese.

The film was written by Charles Bennett, Fredric M. Frank and Jesse Lasky Jr, with un-credited work by Jeanie Macpherson. DeMille had been inspired by The Judas Tree, Neil Swanson's novel about people who had been sent to 18th century America to be sold as slaves after conviction in England. Despite hiring two experts to research about the topic of colonial slavery, he wanted to romanticize the American colonial conquest more than anything else, which means that the final result is a film that seems to go anywhere it wants with its colonial setting, certainly seeming the part with costumes and its cinematography from Ray Rennahan than with other aspects, a ridiculously watchable curiosity. It certainly does seem a bit bloated at 146 minutes, complete with a $4.3 million budget and a shooting schedule that was just as excessive and a battle sequence that had over 800 extras and plenty of dynamite. Cooper (in his fourth and final collaboration with DeMille) pulls off a subtle performance as usual, one that we care to follow along with no trouble because of how natural he plays the hero. Goddard drives the screen with some passion, rolling just fine in chemistry with Cooper in a rustled role that seems fitted for a dime-store novel, complete with color to really emphasize her bright hair for sequences such as the impromptu auction or the bathing one. Da Silva (known for his stage work alongside his work in film) makes for a conniving adversary that the audience can seethe at whenever sharing the screen with either lead, although the climax certainly proves anticlimactic for both sides. Karloff (who was asked to study the Seneca language for the role) seems reserved here for his brief time on screen. Kellaway and Bond give a moment of levity or two, at least. One may very well call this film kitsch and get away with it because of how silly it can get with characters and situations (particularly when relating to history) so overblown that might make The Outlaw and Duel in the Sun bat an eye. It doesn't mean I despise the film however, since there are aspects in terms of cast and design that do tend to work out well - if you are going to make a film resemble a damsel-in-distress novel with big costumes, one can't go too wrong with something like this, which is too long, too big and too perfect for a few moments to gawk and perhaps have amusement with, for better or worse.

Overall, I give it 7 out of 10 stars.