|
|
|
|
|
Halloween brings to mind images of vampires, monsters, and werewolves. As a child, I remember sitting in front of the television every Sunday afternoon, in anticipation of the old horror classics. So, this month, let’s talk about the masters who brought these monsters to life.
Though many have portrayed Dracula, Bela Lugosi played the role on Broadway in 1927, and, due to the death of silent horror star Lon Chaney, was chosen for the film role in 1931. His evil demeanor, dark, beady eyes, and Hungarian accent made him the perfect vampire. According to his son on the web site Lugosi.com, he turned down the role of Frankenstein in 1931, since it had no speaking parts. Also, though he longed for other roles, he couldn’t escape being typecast. Lugosi went on to other horror movies and later only to supporting roles, such as Ygor in The Ghost of Frankenstein (1942) and a servant in The Body Snatcher (1945). I was later sad to see him in 1953’s dreadful Glen or Glenda, as he tormented the mind of a transvestite who was driven to suicide. He was just too good an actor for that. Lugosi died in 1956 and was buried in his Dracula costume.
Boris Karloff frightened audiences as the monster in 1931’s Frankenstein. He brought back the role in Bride of Frankenstein (1935) and Son of Frankenstein (1939). We also can’t forget his portrayal of The Mummy (1932). However, his sociopathic roles as an evil human give me the worst chills—the mad scientist in House of Frankenstein (1944), the murderous supplier of cadavers in The Body Snatcher (1945), and, of course, the evil master of an asylum in Bedlam (1946). Since he was alive until 1969, Karloff was able to take advantage of the television era, making numerous appearances as well as hosting the TV series Thriller.
The Wolf Man was Lon Chaney Jr., a noted character actor. Actually, he was the only one to play all four monsters. Son of Dracula (1943), The Mummy’s Tomb, (1942), and The Ghost of Frankenstein (1942) were but a few of his horror movies. Later in his career, it was difficult for him to find work due to a severe drinking problem. One writer/director, Jack Hill, was able to get him dirt cheap because of that. I discovered this tidbit as I turned my television to TCM to see him in Spider Baby (1968) as the chauffeur and, for once, one of the few normal characters in the movie. While filming, Hill was convinced that Chaney was sober, only to later discover that he snuck liquor in the oranges that he snacked on while on the set.
Though this “horror” movie freaked my 16-year-old, it was so unintentionally ridiculous and campy that I highly recommend it. Descendants of the Merrye family suffer from Merrye Syndrome, which causes their brains to regress to a pre-birth mental state. The characters make references to the Wolf Man and the Mummy—for no apparent reason, other than for Hill to remind the audience of their legendary cast member. Though Spider Baby was a complete flop at the box office, the director is now enjoying the popularity that it is receiving as a cult flick.
Though he was an accomplished actor in 1940s film noir, I know Vincent Price best for his role as an insane sculptor who poured wax on dead bodies in House of Wax (1953). With additional movies such as House on Haunted Hill (1959), House of Usher (1960), and Pit and the Pendulum (1961), he has earned his place as a master of classic horror.
Some feel that the black-and-white horror films lack the realism of today’s blood and gore. In fact, many of the movies that I mentioned were low budget B films, shot in a quick time frame. Why, then, do my teens refuse to watch them, claiming that they’ll have nightmares for weeks? How can they witness a killer slashing his victim and then follow the body parts flying across the screen, only to turn away in fright from the 1943 zombie staring at them with bulging eyes? A certain eeriness of the black-and-white shadows haunted me, as I watched the somber cemetery scenes where the rain poured on the black umbrellas. Is the suggestion of horror even more frightening than explicitly watching it? Do our imaginations frighten us more than the filmmaker’s? I suggest renting some of these classics and trying to figure out the answers for yourself. You may be shocked in the process.
|
|
|
|
