Movies and murder collide in 'The Death Kiss'

Some film historians ascribe the downward trajectory of Bela Lugosi's career to the fact that he went freelance almost immediately after the runaway success that as "Dracula" (while his fellow Universal monster-maker Boris Karloff remained loyal to the studio system and saw his career blossom).

They may be right. A bigger contributing factor may have been the fact that Lugosi made horrible choices when it came to the movies he made. If they had all been as good as "White Zombie" and "The Death Kiss", maybe he wouldn't have died a drug-addicted pauper.

"The Death Kiss" is among the top five of my favorite films that Lugosi appeared in.

The Death Kiss (1933)
Starring: David Manners, Adrienne Ames, Bela Lugosi, and John Wray
Director: Phil Rosen
Rating: Seven of Ten Stars

When the star of Tonart's latest mystery movie, "The Death Kiss", is killed during the filming of the climax, studio mogul Joseph Steiner (Lugosi) is convinced that it an tragic accident. But soon the police find evidence that it was actually murder, and suspicious swiftly falls on Marcia Lane (Ames), the dead man's widow. She was having an affair with screenwriter Franklin Drew (Manners), so she had both motive and opportunity to stage the killing. Her lover starts working toward proving her innosence by finding the real killer. But with the deceased having crossed just about everyone working on the production, and Steiner seemingly having an agenda of his own, will Drew clear his lady love, or will the killer add him to the list of victims first?


This low-budget mystery film is a surprisingly well-crafted and well-acted movie. The mystery is complex enough that the audience is kept getting up to the end--I admit to being surprised when the actual murderer was revealed and that doesn't happen often these days! As far as I can find out, "The Death Kiss" is also the first film about some of the behind-the-scenes aspects of making a film. (A number of the clues and red herrings even involve movie-making equipment.)

I enjoyed the film quite a bit. The gimmicky color-tinting didn't do a whole lot for me, but I suspect that it generated a lot of excitement to the people sitting in the theatre in 1933, just like I'm sure they were fascinated by the fictionalized glimpse into the Hollowood Dream Factory.

Lugosi and Universal Do Poe (Sort of)

Bela Lugosi appeared in a trio of very loose Edgar Allan Poe adaptations for Universal in the wake of his success in "Dracula". They're interesting films, but I wouldn't recommend them as shortcuts when writing that report for English class.


Murders in the Rue Morgue (1932)
Starring: Bela Lugosi, Leon Ames, and Sidney Fox
Director: Robert Florey
Rating: Five of Ten Stars

When Pierre Dupin (Ames) and his gorgeous girlfriend, Camille (Fox), visit a traveling carnival, they attract the attention of the insane Dr. Mirakle (Lugosi). Mirakle is attempting to prove that man evolved from apes by injecting beautiful women with blood drawn from his strange pet ape, Erik. Will Pierre manage to protect the love of his life from Erik, Mirakle, and Mirakle's menacing unibrow?!


"Murders in Rue Morgue" is a VERY loose adaptation of the Poe mystery tale that is goofy from beginning to end. Although well-filmed, the way the film uses close-ups of a cimpanzee to supposedly represent Erik, who in long and medium shots is a guy in a gorilla suit, is giggle-inspiring, and the silent-movie-esque acting and make-up used thoughout the movie is also excessively stylized for the modern viewer. (I found myself wondering at times if this film started out as a silent movie, and was then converted to a "talkie" ala what Hitchcock did with "Murder.")

On the upside, however, there are a several chilling moments in this brief horror film, foremost among them being when the audience is first exposed to the nature of Mirakle's "experiments"; and when Mirakle and Erik later invade the home of Camille and her mother.

One of the most worthwhile reasons to watch "Murders in the Rue Morgue" is that this movie is a great example of Lugosi's acting talent. During the 40s, it seemed almost as if he fell into a rut, and every character he portrayed seemed to be flat and identical to every other... but here, he displays a range of emotions and can convey a wide range of emotions with just facial expressions and gestures. He even manages to be supremely menacing, despite a rather amuing hairdo and the unibrow that he sports.

I'm not sure this film is all that suitable for most modern viewers, but I think that if you've liked Lugosi in other movies, you owe it to yourself (and to his memory) to view him in this short film. I think you'll be amazed at the range he displayed early in his film career.



The Black Cat (aka "The House of Doom" and "The Vanishing Body") (1934)
Starring: Bela Lugosi, David Manners, Boris Karloff, and Jacqueline Wells
Director: Edgar G. Ulmer
Rating: Eight of Ten Stars

Honeymooners Peter and Joan Allison (Manners and Wells) are stranded in an isolated house in a Hungarian backwater. Here, they become drawn into the evil Satanist Hjaldmar Poelzig (Karloff) and the revenge-plans of his one-time friend Dr. Vitus Werdegast (Lugosi). As the story unfolds, the depth of Poelzig's evil and perversion is revealed in its fullest, and it seems there will be no escape for anyone.


"The Black Cat" is a stylish, incredibly creepy B-movie. It takes place almost entirely within a house built upon the site of a ruined WWI fortress, with the lower levels being the decaying remains of the original structure and the upper floors consisting of a sleek, ultra-modern home. Both sections of the structure lend to the tone of dread that permeates the entire film--with the well-lit, clean rooms of the upper levels of Poelzig's home being even creepier than that the shadow-haunted lower levels thanks to some fine camera work--although the revelation of Poelzig's "exhibit" of beautiful women below has got to be the most terrifying moment of the film. (In fact, I'm hard-pressed to think of a more evil and perverted character present anywhere in these classic horror films than Poelzig: Satanism, treachery, mass-murder, pedophelia... you name it, Poelzig's done it/is into it. (Karloff doesn't have a lot to do acting-wise, other than to just be sinister... but, boy, does he do that in spades here!)

Perhaps the most interesting aspect of this film is Lugosi. First, those who watch "The Black Cat" will get to see that he was, in fact, a great actor at one time. The pain Dr. Werdegast feels when he is told his wife and daughter died while he languished in a Russian prison is conveyed with incredible strength, as is the mixture of pain and rage when he later learns the truth about their fates, as he and the Allisons manage to seize the initiative from Poelzig and his cultists. Second, it's interesting to see Lugosi playing a hero for once, even if a deeply flawed hero.

On a quirky note, I often complain that horror movies from 30s through the 60s and early 70s often just end: The story resolves and the credits roll without providing the audience with the nicety of a denoument. "The Black Cat" DOES provide what I wish more films would, yet here I almost wish that last minute or so hadn't been included. This is a film that probably should have ended while still in darkness.

While "The Black Cat" has absolutely nothing to do with the Poe tale that "suggested" it--it's got more in common with "The Fall of the House of Usher", I'd say--I think it represents a high point of the horror films that Universal was making in the 30s. I don't see it mentioned often, and I think it's a shame. It's a film that's worth seeing.



The Raven (1934)
Starring: Bela Lugosi, Boris Karloff, and Irene Ware
Director: Lew Landers
Rating: Seven of Ten Stars

After saving young dancer Jean Thatcher (Ware) from certain death through a miraculous feat of neurosurgery, the mentally unstable Dr. Vollin (Lugosi) becomes obsessed with her. When her powerful father makes it clear that Vollin is to stay away from her, Vollin forces a wanted murderer (Karloff) into assisting him in eliminating Jean, her fiance, and her father in hideous death-traps modeled after gruesome scenes from the writing of Edgar Allan Poe.


"The Raven" isn't really an adaptation of the Poe work by that name, but is instead the tale of a thoroughly evil and utterly insane man so rich and so obssessed that he's built a house full of secret doors, secret basements, and entire rooms that serve as elevators... all so he can reinact scenes from Poe's writings.

There is plenty of potential in this B-movie, but tepid direction and mostly uninspired lighting and set design leave most of it unrealized. Lugosi is completely over the top in this film, taking center stage as the perfect image of a raving madman. He is ably supported by co-star Karloff who plays the role of the tortured, remorse-filled murderer trapped into serving Vollin with the promise of a new life in the exact opposite direction of Lugosi--remaining subdued as he slinks through each scene he's in. Ware is very attractive in the scenes she's in, but that's about all she is. In fact, the only actors in the film who aren't just so much set decoration are Lugosi and Karloff.

The "torture room" is nifty, and the climax where Dr. Vollin has houseguests trapped in a Poe-world of his making is excellent. All in all, an entertaining film, but it would have been much better with a more inspired supporting cast and more creativity on the technical side of the camera.

Lugosi in his most famous role: Dracula

While Lugosi's turns as Dracula don't rank among my favorite of his performances, Dracula is the character he is most famous for playing, despite the fact he only portrayed the character twice--once at the beginning of his film career and once at during its twilight. This post covers both of them.


Dracula (1931)
Starring: Bela Lugosi, Dwight Frye, Helen Chandler, Edward Van Sloan, Herbert Bunston, David Manners, and Charles K. Gerrard
Director: Tod Browning
Rating: Seven of Ten Stars

Count Dracula (Lugosi) travels to England where he sates his bloodlust on young women, including the lovely Mina (Chandler).

Universal's 1931 "Dracula" was the first horror talkie and is one of the three most influential horror films ever made. It's a film that's truly a significant milestone not only in film history, but in pop culture as well, and, even though its age is showing, it's a genuiine classic.


I don't think anything quite as subtly creepy and startling as Dracula passing through a mass of cobwebs without breaking them has ever been put on film. It's a perfect film moment, because the feeling of "waitaminnit... did that just happen?" that Renfield (Frye) has is shared by the audience, and we're sitting there with a chill that goes right down to our very bones.

Because this film is such a classic milestone, I feel a bit awkward about not liking it more than I do. Like "Frankenstein" (also made by Universal in 1931), this movie has nearly as many flaws as it has elements of perfection.

The biggest problem with "Dracula" is the haphazard way the film unfolds, particuarly in its second half. The vampiric Lucy and her preying on little children is dealt with a throw-away fashion, and the climactic encounter at Carfax Abby, which is so weakly and disjointedly handled that it is barely a climax at all. (It's particuarly dissapointing that Dracula's death happens entirely off-screen, except for a very effective reaction from the psychically bonded Mina.)

In fact, in many ways, it's almost as if someone forgot the movie needed a script, and it was made up as the crew went along. The film is worth seeing for spectacular performances from Bela Lugosi (it's easy to see why he solidified vampires as suave, sharp-dresserrs as opposed to fugly scarecrows like the one featured in "Nosferatu"), Dwight Frye (who, as Renfield, is as much a star of the film as Lugosi, and who does some great acting when he vascilates from raving madman to apparently sane and back again), and Helen Chandler (who, as Mina, conveys more with her eyes, body language, and facial expressions than one would thinks possible, and who has the only decent moment during the film's climax as she shares in Dracula's pain as Van Helsin stakes him). The film's impressive sets and creative camera work also bring about some genuinely creepy moments, such as when Dracula and his vampire brides emerge from their coffins under his Transylvanian castle, and then when they later close on an unconcious Renfield; the discovery of Renfield in the hold of the death ship after it runs aground; Dracula's feeding upon the flower girl in London; Renfield crawling across the floor toward an unconcious maid with a look of madness and bloodlust on his face; Mina's transformation as she urges John Harker to get rid of Van Helsing and his cruxifixes; and Dracula and Mina's arrival at Carfax Abby.

But, for every great moment or spectacular performance, there's a boring one, or one where opportunities that should have been obvious to filmmakes even in 1931 are completely missed. Edward Van Sloan (as Van Helsing) and David Manners (as a particularly milquetoasty Harker) are completely dead spots in the film, giving weak performances that almost manage to drag down those excellent ones from Chandler, Frye, and Lugosi. (In fact, Van Sloan and Manners are so weak here that it's surprising to me that they;'re the same actors who do so well in "The Mummy" just one years later. (Perhaps the better script and a different director made all the difference for them.)

By the way, the new score that Phillip Glass composed for the restored version of the film included in the "Dracula Legacy Collection" (and which can be toggled on and off) is actually a fine reflection of the movie itself: Glass has some good moments and some supremely weak moments in his score. For the most part, it is just muazak that doesn't seem to have a whole lot to do with enhancing the mood on the scrreen, but every so often, it is spot-on and it makes the film that much more impressive. (Glass's music ALMOST gives the film's climax some impact, for example.)

Although far from perfect, the 1931 "Dracula" is a must-see for anyone with an interest in examining the origins of horror as a seperate and unique genre. While I'll take "White Zombie" or "The Mummy" over this film any day, I think the 75 minutes it takes to watch this film, is time well spent.


Abbott and Costello Meet Frankenstein (1948)
Starring: Bud Abbott, Lou Costello, Lon Chaney Jr., Lenore Aubert, and Bela Lugosi
Director: Charles Barton
Rating: Eight of Ten Stars

The reluctant Wolfman, Larry Talbot (Chaney) learns that Dracula (Lugosi) intends to revive Frankenstein's Monster and use it as his personal super-soldier. He pursues the evil vampire lord to the United States where he finds his only allies to be Wilbur and Chick (Costello and Abbott), a couple of less-than-bright shipping clerks. Unfortunately, Dracula as an ally of his own--mad scientist femme fatale Dr. Sandra Mornay (Aubert), and she has Wilbur wrapped around her little finger. Little does Wilbur know that his girlfriend doesn't love him for his mind but rather his brain... she intends to do Dracula's bidding and transplant into the rejuvinated monster!


"Abott and Costello Meet Frankenstein" is a wild screwball comedy with the two master comedians doing their usual routines within the framework of a solid script and a story that's actually pretty logical in its own crazy way. I think it's the first fusion of comedy and monsters, and one reason it works so well is that the monsters are played straight. Even when they are involved in funny schtick (Dracula and the Wolf Man are both part of several routines), they remain as they were featured in the serious monster movies they were in.

Too often, I hear this film written off as Universal's last and crassest attempt to wring some dollars out of their tired monster franchise. While that may be all the studio bosses had in mind, the creators involved with "Abbott and Costello Meet Frankenstein" managed to make a great movie that is still worth watching today. It's even superior to many of Universal's "straight" movies with Dracula, Frankenstein's Monster, and the Wolf Man (or, for that matter, countless recent so-called horror films). Much of its strength grows from the fact that has a plot that with some tweaking could be a straight horror movie.

I recommend this underappreciated film to any lover of the classic monster films, as well as lovers of slapstick comedy.

'Trapped' is an okay flick with bad opening

Trapped (1949)
Starring: Lloyd Bridges, Barbara Payton, John Hoyt, and James Todd
Director: Richard Fleischer
Rating: Six of Ten Stars

Master-counterfeiter Tris Stewart (Bridges) is serving a long prison sentence when he is recruited by the Secret Service to help capture a new ring of forgers who are using the plates he once created to get rich on phony bills. Stewart, however, is no stoolie, and he gives the agents the slip with the intention of not only getting even with his former partners but also to escape the long arm or the law with his girl (Payton) and a quarter of a million in funny money that it will let him live like a king in Mexico. But the government sting is still in effect, and Stewart's escape is not as perfect as he thinks....


"Trapped" is a well-acted and beautifully filmed crime drama. Bridges is the perfect film noir tough guy, Payton is the classic bad girl in love with a worse man, and Hoyt (as a government agent undercover as a con man with the means to help Stewart with his plans) is great as the shady character with something to hide. The unfortunate thing about the film is that its opening minutes are painfully reminiscent of a bad educational film/documentary about the Department of the Treasury.

"Trapped" is worth seeing if you're a big fan of 1940s crime dramas, but just be aware that you're going to have to sit through some really hokey stuff at the very beginning. (It does get better, though.)

A shining Angel is the focus for 'Half a Sinner'

Half a Sinner (1940)
Starring: Heather Angel, John King, Constance Collier, and Robert Elliot
Director: Al Christie
Rating: Seven of Ten Stars

When Anne (Angel) comes to fear fear that she is growing old without ever having experienced any excitement, she decides to throw caution to the wind, buys a new outfit, and heads out for a day on the town during which she intends to enjoy herself and live life to its fullest. By the time her wild day is over, she's being chased by gangsters, a frustrated highway patrolman (Elliot), and has struck up a friendship with a rogueish stranger (King)... all while driving a stolen car with a dead body and incriminating evidence that everyone's looking for in the back seat.


"Half a Sinner" is a breezy comedy/thriller with romantic overtones that's more lighthearted than thrilling, despite the deadly gangsters and the corpse in the backseat. The beautiful Heather Angel, who excelled at playing adventuresome women, shines more brightly here than ever before... and in a couple of scenes almost too much so. In some scenes, Angel almost seems to be ovveracting.

However, it's not Angel that's the problem--she's as good in this film as any others I've seen her in, particularly since she's got a well-crafted script and excellent dialog to work with. No, the problem is the fact that her co-star King didn't have the screen presense to hold his own against her. King is certainly handsome, but his acting skills and personal charisma are miserably pale when set side-by-by side with Angel, who really needs to co-star with someone of the calibre of John Howard or Ray Milland (both of whom she appeared with in the "Bulldog Drummond" series).

Still, the script is fast-paced enough and well-written enough that the weak point that is King's acting abilities is more than made up for. The appearance of the overbearing Madame Beckenridge (Collier) late in the picture also helps, as we finally get to see Angel playing off against someone with more screen presence.

If you enjoy well-done, classic comedies, I think you'll enjoy "Half a Sinner". It's one of the best romps where the girl stays in the front seat of the car ever put on film.

Isle of the Dead is among Karloff's weaker films

Isle of the Dead (1945)
Starring: Boris Karloff, Ellen Drew, Marc Cramer, Helene Thimig and Katherine Emery
Director: Mark Robson
Rating: Four of Ten Stars

A diverse group of people quarantine themselves on a small Greek island to prevent a suspected plague from spreading to the army camped nearby on the mainland. As they wait for the disease to run its course, a hardbitten general (Karloff) comes to believe the superstitious ramblings of an old woman (Thimig) that the young maid (Drew) is an undead monster who is preying on their life force.



"Isle of the Dead" is one of the last in a string of legendary horror films that producer Val Lewton made for RKO. It is also one of the weakest, with an uneven script and a cast with acting styles that conflict; Emery and Thimig are chewing up the scenery in old-fashioned monster-movie style, while Drew gives a subtle performance that belongs in a romance film, while Cramer is just bland.

Karloff gives a mostly disappointing performance, seeming as if he is sleepwalking through the picture. The only time he comes alive is when his character makes a failed attempt at self-reflection. He manages to bring a little bit of menace to his role, but that's mostly attributable to the fact that the other actors in the picture have so little presence

Worst of all, the film has a terrible script. For most of its running time, the movie simply unspools in a dull fashion. The characters are on a supposedly plague-infested island, yet their behavior feels more like they are on just another vacation. This lack of tension is augmented by one of the worst insta-romances ever put on screen when the Greek maid inexplicably falls in love with the square-jawed and utterly bland American war correspondent (Cramer)over the space of a day they hardly see each other.

However, if you stay with the film, things start to get a lot more interesting in the last 20 minutes. From the kindhearted maid being tormented by the old crone through a closed door, to a mad killer stalking (and skewering) the surviving inhabitants of the island, we finally get to experience some of the dread and darkness that should have been present in at least a small degree from the very beginning of the film.

"Isle of the Dead" is contained in the Val Lewton Horror Collection along with the eight other films that Lewton produced for RKO and a documentary on his career. Karloff appeared in two other Lewton films, and I'll be writing about them in this space shortly.

Evil schemes in the 'Tower of London'

Tower of London (1939)
Starring: Basil Rathbone, Vincent Price, Ian Hunter, Boris Karloff, Nan Grey, John Sutton and Barbara O'Neil
Director: Rowland V. Lee
Rating: Eight of Ten Stars

The vicious and powerhungry Richard, Duke of Glocester (Rathbone) manipulates, bullies and murders his way to becoming King of England.


Most of you reading this are familiar with Shakespear's "Richard the Third." (And if you aren't, at least go rent one of the many movie and/or TV versions available. You're severely lacking in your cultural education). As such, the broad strokes of the story are familiar, but the particulars and the way they are executed in this version are not. Nor is the great fun you'll have watching Basil Rathbone portray a truly dispicable character, and Boris Karloff playing off him as an equally evil but pathetically devoted henchman.

Special notice should also be paid to Vincent Price, who plays the simpering drunkard Duke of Clarence. He easily holds his own against Rathbone in the scenes they share, and he displays an approach to the character different than any of his later performances and a style totally absent as he became more closely associated with horror films and thrillers.

Although included in Universal's Karloff Collection and touted as a horror film, it is not. It is a well-mounted period drama that features exceptional acting on the part of everyone on screen. The film does adhere to the hyperbolic claim on the set that Karloff is seen in one of his most frightening roles. Mord the Executioner is an exceptionally creepy character and Karloff draws out every ounce of Sinister to be found within him.

'The Woman Condemned' hasn't aged well

The Woman Condemned (1934)
Starring: Richard Hemingway, Claudia Dell, Lola Lane, Paul Ellis, and Mischa Auer
Director: Mrs. Wallace Reid
Rating: Five of Ten Stars

When a radio station's star attraction (Lane) takes a mysterious leave of absence, the station manager becomes concerned that the largest sponsor of her show may pull out. He hires a private detective (Dell) to locate her and to find out why she needed the break... but when the P.I. is arrested for the murder of the singer, things start to get desperate on all fronts.

"The Woman Condemned" is a film that straddles the line between the mystery and comedy genres. The weird way through which Dell's lady P.I. Barbara Hammond and skirt-chasing gossip reporter Jerry Beall (Hemingway) meet and get married is absurd and hilarious, but the plot surrounding the murder of the singer and Beall's attempts to uncover proof of Hammond's innocence is a pretty serious (if a bit far-fetched, once all the details come to light) mystery tale.

This is one of those films that time has passed by. The camerawork and acting is more reminiscent of a silent movie than is healthy for the film (I had the same complaint about the other film from this director that I've seen, "Sucker Money") and the third act twists have become more eye-rolling than shocking with the 70+ years of mystery films that have been made since its release. However, the pace is fast enough and the set-up odd enough that the film will keep the attention of viewers who enjoy 1930s cinema. (The plot is also engaging enough that with some updating and rewriting of the ending, it would make a better remake candidate than all those 1980s movies everyone in Hollywood seems intent on revisiting.)




Trivia: The person behind the odd director's credit of "Mrs. Wallace Reid" was the one-time hugely celebrated silent movie star Dorothy Davenport. She turned to writing and directed later in her career, using her husband's name as her byline. She continued this habit until 1935.