Island of Lost Souls.

Review #2121: Island of Lost Souls.

Cast: 

Charles Laughton (Dr. Moreau), Richard Arlen (Edward Parker), Leila Hyams (Ruth Thomas), Bela Lugosi (Sayer of the Law), Kathleen Burke (Lota, The Panther Woman), Arthur Hohl (Montgomery), Stanley Fields (Captain Davies), Paul Hurst (Donahue), Hans Steinke (Ouran), and Tetsu Komai (M'Ling) Directed by Erle C. Kenton (#845 - The Ghost of Frankenstein, #847 - House of Frankenstein, #849 - House of Dracula)

Review: 

 "They give us a chance to let our imagination run wild. The art department can go to town on creep sets. Prop men have fun with cobwebs. The cameraman has fun with trick lighting and shadows. The director has fun. We have more fun making a horror picture than a comedy."

I'm sure you are familiar with the scenario: a 1930s horror film loosely based on a novel. This time around, it is a Paramount production based on the H. G. Wells novel The Island of Doctor Moreau (1896) (describing it as "an exercise in youthful blasphemy"), since the studio managed to do well enough with the release of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde the previous year. The film was written by Waldemar Young (writer on countless productions for over a decade such as London After Midnight) and Philip Wylie (more known for his stories such as When Worlds Collide as opposed to his screenplays, which started with this). Norman Taurog was apparently meant to be the director but was replaced by Erle C. Kenton, who had broken into film in the 1920s after forays into teaching, animal exhibiting, and vaudeville.  In a career of B films of comedy and horror, it is likely Kenton's best remembered film. Apparently, Wells (still living at the time) disliked the resulting movie, once calling it a "complete lack of imagination." In the years since, there have been a handful of subsequent adaptations, such as Terror Is a Man (1959) and The Twilight People (1972), each directed by Filipino filmmaker Eddie Romero (each of which did their own thing). 1977 saw an adaptation by American International Pictures with Don Taylor directing before John Frankenheimer tried his hand in 1996. The irony is that both directors maligned the original film as terrible and then they ended up making adaptations that nobody remembers now. A limited array of home video releases made the film a weird one to see for years, since the lost camera negative of Island of Lost Souls meant one had to combine a bunch of varying prints to make just one that worked until Criterion restored the film at considerable challenge in 2011.

It's funny, Wells intended for Moreau to be a well intentioned mad scientist when it came to doing vivisection on animals in an attempt to make them more human, and here he is getting mad at a movie that manages to show Moreau for what really makes sense: the man is a reasoned nut that made a nightmare when he thought he was making a creation fit for mankind. The terror is present quite effectively in its 70 minute runtime in disturbing qualities, one that has a tremendous performance to lead it off to go with a handful of nice shots from cinematographer Karl Struss that sometimes deal with the creature effects by Wally Westmore. It is that certain kind of chilling thar makes one look between the lines when it comes looking at human nature, whether that involves foolish curiosity or the unraveling of all that matters in group structures. Laughton dominates the film when it comes to understanding the mad scientist role as one that perfectly knows themselves to be doing their actions as a sane man rather than a blustering doubter. One believes right away that this is a man who senses only in his own brilliance of creating something great for man, whether that means serving as a sort of God for his creations or in trying to bring man and beast together. Arlen does fine with the material as the general normal focus in that way you would think for a reasoned man trying to survive in unreasonable times. Believe it or not, Burke was actually marketed as "The Panther Woman" because of a talent contest. Paramount held one for the film that saw the then fashion model and Chicago radio actress win from a pool of thousands of people. By 1938, she had done a handful more films but left Hollywood. She makes more of an impression than Hyams in terms of mystery and interest, but that's about that. Those who know Lugosi and his voice will see him right from the go even with makeup, but I enjoy seeing his presence in the attempt to assert order and reason even among fur. By the time the film has built its disturbing mannerisms of creation to a chaotic end, the experience has been a worthy one for consistent atmospheric creeps that shows there was more than one horror studio who could try their hand at horror, even if the forthcoming Production Code would try to neuter some of the ideas in later films. As a whole, it is a pretty good film worth it for Laughton and all that comes with it in disturbing quality.

Overall, I give it 8 out of 10 stars.

Next: Two Thousand Maniacs!, y'all.

Thunderbolt (1929).

Review #1837: Thunderbolt.

Cast: 

George Bancroft (Thunderbolt Jim Lang), Fay Wray (Ritzy), Richard Arlen (Bob Moran), Tully Marshall (Warden), Eugenie Besserer (Mrs. Moran), James Spottswood ('Snapper' O'Shea), Robert Elliott (Prison Chaplain), Fred Kohler ('Bad Al' Frieberg), E. H. Calvert (Dist. Atty. McKay), and George Irving (Mr. Corwin) Directed by Josef von Sternberg (#1325 - Underworld and #1337 - Shanghai Express)

Review: 

It is interesting to consider what the turn of a decade or the turn of new technology can do to (or for) a director. In the case of Josef von Sternberg, going from silent films to sound would only keep him right where he needed to be to express his vision of filmmaking. This is his ninth feature film (three are lost, with two of them not even having a full release), one that started in 1925 that would span three decades over various studios; he had a distinct style that did not always lead to box office success, but most of his films generally still seem ripe for further research and curiosity, with the level of that depending on just what film of his you see, whether that was his debut with The Salvation Hunters (1925) or Underworld (1927) or The Last Command (1928, where he directed his lead actor to an Oscar) or The Docks of New York (1928). If you remember, Bancroft was the star in Underworld, and this film was the fourth and final collaboration between him and von Sternberg, with all of them featuring him getting swept up in crime (two as gangsters, one as a brawler, and one as a police captain) with two of them involving him trying to cope with the loss of his girl. He went from serving on merchant ships and a stint in the Navy to becoming an actor on Broadway and film, having a career in the latter for seventeen years, but it was the early parts of his career that saw him as a name star (complete with a nomination for an Academy Award for Best Actor with this film) before moving into supporting roles before moving into ranching full-time in 1942, which he did until his death at the age of 74 in 1956.

One can say that the transition into sound did not hinder the qualities shown by von Sternberg when it comes to making curious features of entertainment (there was a silent version of this film made for theaters without sound). He doesn't seem stilted by the addition of a microphone for sound, if only because he utilizes his sets and actors for interesting arrangements and dialogue that makes its 85-minute run-time go by fairly smoothly. The screenplay was written by Jules Furthman and Herman Mankiewicz while the story was done by Charles and Jules Furthman. So yes, the movie is about a guy named "Thunderbolt" and his attempts at trying to get what he wants from his girl and the law before a fateful climatic decision; the movie spends a good chunk of its time in a prison set with a small assortment of characters that used for a bit of humor, since a musical group does play in certain scenes, for example. As such, it is Bancroft who dominates the film with the way that he commands attention with his ego that makes him a curious figure to view in the lines of crime, because there are layers that come out in a rough exterior without falling into easy sentiments (granted, there is a dog that he has a soft spot for, but this isn't too distracting). Wray got into acting as a sixteen-year-old Canadian in 1923, which can't be forgotten in a six-decade career that saw her known for being a "scream queen". She does fine with what is needed here in terms of calm allure, one who seems perfectly fine with "normalness" without being wrapped in hokum. Arlen makes an ideal square without falling into mockery, looking just fine when paired with Wray for their scenes together (Besserer being paired as his on-screen mother is a bit amusing, if only because one doesn't usually see mother figures...for non-criminals in these kind of movies). Marshall proves a worthy foil for Bancroft in generating a bit of amusement as bumbling authority, such as letting a prisoner get out of their cell to subdue a prisoner who grabbed a gun...which results in a punch-out. No matter how much the climax could be thought of as inevitable, the movie does handle its final moments well without springing for maudlin overkill. As a gangster film, it proves okay when compared to his previous work Underworld was in terms of overall excitement, but even being a minor work in von Sternberg's lineup is still a nice compliment to hand it for recommendation, proving a useful curiosity with a suitable lead presence that makes for a relatively charming time.

Overall, I give it 7 out of 10 stars.

Movie Night: The Best Man.

Review #580: The Best Man.

Cast
Henry Fonda (William Russell), Cliff Robertson (Joe Cantwell), Lee Tracy (Art Hockstader), Edie Adams (Mabel Cantwell), Margaret Leighton (Alice Russell), Ann Sothern (Sue Ellen Gamadge), Shelley Berman (Sheldon Bascomb), Gene Raymond (Don Cantwell), Kevin McCarthy (Dick Jensen), John Henry Faulk (Governor T.T. Claypoole), and Richard Arlen (Senator Oscar Anderson) Directed by Franklin J. Schaffner (#347 - Planet of the Apes)

Review
It's sort of hard to talk about this movie because when it all boils down to it, this is an okay movie. Fonda and Robertson are exceptional, especially when they share a scene, but Lee Tracy is even better, he steals the show and makes it his own in his final performance as he just dominates the movie with a commanding presence. The movie itself is alright, full of supporting characters that either are tolerable or just forgettable, though at least Kevin McCarthy is decent. This is more of a curiosity of a time different from now, but relevant in some ways that surprise even me.

Overall, I give it 7 out of 10 stars.

Movie Night: Wings (1927).

 Review #349: Wings.

Cast
Charles Rogers (Jack Powell), Clara Bow (Mary Preston), Richard Arlen (David Armstrong), Gary Cooper (Cadet White), Jobyna Ralston (Sylvia Lewis), El Brendel (Herman Schwimpf), Richard Tucker (Air Commander), Gunboat Smith (Sergeant), and Roscoe Karns (Lieutenant Cameron) Directed by William A. Wellman.

Review
Wings is an unique film in some ways. It was the first film to win Best Picture (known as Outstanding Picture at the time) at the first Academy Awards, the only silent film to win the award, and it also includes aerial action from the yesteryear of 1927, over 85 years ago. But does this film still hold up? Yeah, pretty much. The actors do try to convey emotion, to convey message with expressions rather then voice (Obviously considering this is silent), which works decent. Clara Bow does a memorable job, though, having a certain zing which manages to make you interested in her character, which helps. The aerial action is understandably cool. It works really well, especially with the brief flash of color when the planes go down. The story isn't a whole lot, but the action and the relative enjoyment exceed overall. Is it great? Not precisely, but it is a fixture of importance in film and in history, which is more than enough. Countdown to 350 Reviews: 10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1.

Overall, I give it 9 out of 10 stars.