Franchise Chronicles: Werewolf Of London (1935)

By Edward O'Hare

Tip 1: Dress for success.

Welcome to the Franchise Chronicles, a movie-by-movie look at the development and evolution of cinema’s most enduring sagas. I am currently exploring the classic Universal Monsters and this week’s movie is Werewolf of London (1935) directed by Stuart Walker.

I know, I know. Ed, isn’t Universal’s werewolf monster the Wolfman? That’s right Aloysius. The Wolfman is Universal’s marquee canine creature but he is not their only one. Their first attempt at a werewolf movie was this little diddy. (Why did I call you Aloysius? I don’t know. Who cares?) Let me reiterate up front that this is not a critique of the film. I liked it just fine. My goal for these posts is to discuss each movie in terms of how it serves and develops the franchise. My best guess as to why we didn’t see more of this character is because the film borrows elements from many other franchises but does not have enough unique pieces to stand out from the pack.

Tip 2: Never bring your work home.

 As with The Mummy and The Invisible Man, this movie employs many of the same visuals and story beats as previous Monster movies. We start off with a couple of scientists in an exotic locale (the mountains of Tibet). They encounter a supernatural creature but try to pretend it was superstitious nonsense and head back to London (Somehow these movies always lead back to London). One of the scientists is so obsessed with his work that he is ignoring his beautiful wife (in this case Valerie Hobson returns to play pretty much the same part she played in The Bride of Frankenstein). She, of course, has an old friend in town (Lester Matthews) who is more handsome and probably better for her. There is another doctor who knows all about werewolves. Unlike Van Helsing, Dr. Yogami (Warner Oland) is not hunting the monsters but is one himself. We also get concerned but bumbling London police and lively, eccentric civilians. Miss Ettie Coombes (Spring Byington) is fun to watch but she is no Una O’Connor. The scientist rents a room at an inn in the country but ends up busting out to terrorize the villagers before being killed and professing his love for his wife before dying and returning to human form.

Tip 3: Tip Bartenders well and they'll share secrets.

I don’t want to directly compare this film to The Wolfman (we are not up to that film yet) but I will say the number one reason Werewolf of London probably did not get a sequel was the title character. It could be the writing or maybe the performance but however you slice it Dr. Wilfred Glendon (Henry Hull) is not very likeable. Hull does not have Lugosi’s charm, Karloff’s imposing nature or Rains’s biting wit. He also does not have any tender moments with his wife Lisa. All we see him do in his human form is worry. It is difficult to latch on and connect with a character like that. As far as the Werewolf goes, Jack Pierce’s makeup design is very good but not nearly as iconic as Frankenstein’s Monster or the Mummy. The fur and the teeth are there, but the facial structure could do more to resemble a wolf. It actually looks much more like the Wally Westmore makeup that Fredric March wore in Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde (1931), which we did not cover because it was a Paramount release. Even the look of the monster feels like a borrowed element. Universal’s next crack at a werewolf would have to step up the game.

Next week, Bela Lugosi does not return but we will get to meet Dracula’s Daughter.




Edward O’Hare, nickname TBD, has been poking around the deep caverns of pop culture for some years now. His hobbies include making Starfleet org charts and badgering people who haven’t seen the Adventures of Captain Marvel movie serial from 1941. He one day dreams of teaching Bill Simmons that superheroes and pro athletes are not all that different.

Franchise Chronicles: THE INVISIBLE MAN (1933)

 By Edward O'Hare

Welcome to the Franchise Chronicles, a movie-by-movie look at the development and evolution of cinema’s most enduring sagas. I am currently exploring the classic Universal Monsters and this week’s movie is The Invisible Man (1933) directed by James Whale.

I am not sure the invisible Dr. Jack Griffin (Claude Rains) can be considered a Monster in the technical sense. He is a man born in the modern era and inflicts his condition upon himself. However the themes explored in this classic paired with the visual style of James Whale’s follow-up to Frankenstein definitely make this film a cornerstone of the Universal Monsters canon.
 
Last week, I pointed out that The Mummy used the same narrative structure as Dracula. Well, the first half of The Invisible Man feels very much like Frankenstein. Try this one on for size: A scientist becomes obsessed with a controversial discovery and abandons his colleagues and a beautiful fiancé that deserves better than him to conduct his research in secret. The scientist eventually loses control and his creation terrorizes a village before being hunted down and destroyed. The most crucial difference between the two films is that in this case the doctor and the monster are the same person.

Dr. Griffin’s intelligence and mad lust for power potentially make him the most dangerous villain we have encountered yet. We do not see Rains in the flesh until the final seconds of the film. So he has to build his entire performance out of his voice and gestures. Yet Rains has no difficulty making this character complex, layered and scary. The simple fact that I could not see Griffin made him much more frightening to me and his taunts really built up the tension.

"Guys, I need an opinion on my make over..."

Another unique aspect of the story is the additional time spent with the villagers. Instead of fleeing to an empty castle like Dr. Frankenstein, Dr. Griffin buys a room at a crowded country inn. Since Rains doesn’t have the benefit of facial expressions, the best way the audience can understand him is by the way the other characters react to him. So we get to bond with a bar full of lovable drunks and the anxious hostess Jenny Hall (in a remarkable performance from Una O’Connor). This makes us feel more invested in these characters when Griffin attacks them. I also have a particular fondness for the London police, who do the best they can under the circumstances but end up looking like Keystone Cops through most of the film.

"You can't see my face, but trust me, it's smug."

Visually The Invisible Man definitely feels like a Universal Monster movie. Plenty of scenes take place at night. Plus, we get the harsh wilderness of the mountains in winter and ornate Victorian interior design. The nature of the special effects also help this film stand out from the pack. Keep in mind that this was made about 50 years before computer generation was used in movies, so the only possible conclusion we can come to is that THESE EFFECTS ARE PURE MAGIC! YOU WANNA FIGHT ABOUT IT, BRO!! This technology did not exist in 1933. They had to invent it as they went along. Modern green screen technology basically operates on the same principle used in the shots where Griffin strips his clothes or when we see a pair of pajamas pace around on its own. I am fairly confident that the shots of objects flying around and people being choked by nothing would be executed in the same fashion today. It is the shocked reactions of the actors that really sell those effects. The makeup design for our first three villains was revolutionary but this was the first time I found myself rewinding and pausing the movie to figure out how they did that.

"It's called a Podcast, it's internet radio basically..."

Next week we will explore our first direct sequel in the Monsters films: The Bride of Frankenstein.


Edward O’Hare, nickname TBD, has been poking around the deep caverns of pop culture for some years now. His hobbies include making Starfleet org charts and badgering people who haven’t seen the Adventures of Captain Marvel movie serial from 1941. He one day dreams of teaching Bill Simmons that superheroes and pro athletes are not all that different.

The Franchise Chronicles: Dracula (1931)

 By Ed O'Hare

Welcome back to The Franchise Chronicles, today we start our next series and it’s a big one: the classic Universal Monster movies. 31 of these bad boys were recently released in a blu-ray box set and I could not resist the chance to wade through what may be the oldest cinematic universe. Are you excited? I am way too excited… Okay I just chugged a glass of water. That calmed me down. Let’s do this. The first film up is Dracula (1931) directed by Tod Browning, which serves as a unique artifact of the transition period from silent films to talkies and lays the groundwork for the aesthetics we associate with horror movies to this day.

At first glance this film may be jarring for the modern movie-goer. It moves at a very slow and deliberate pace. Who’d a thunk a 75 minute long movie time could drag. Most of the scenes stand still in a wide shot and only cut to close-ups for important dialogue. It almost feels like the medium shot was yet to be discovered. These are the conventions of the time. Sound in film had only been around for four years. Browning seems to approach this subject like a silent film, which always put strong focus on the compositions of each frame. The production designers worked really hard on those gorgeous matte paintings and the beautiful layout of the castle. Browning wants to give us time to take them in. The actors think through every line and sometimes stand still at awkward moments more like they are posing for a photograph than acting.

This is also an adaptation of a stage play so much of it is framed like a proscenium (think of the way most multi-cam sitcoms are shot). Dracula is also completely void of a music score. This adds a little to the eeriness but I am willing to bet many theatres at the time still had their organists playing along with the movie. I watched it without the music but the blu-ray does offer an optional score and I bet that it probably helps those pacing issues I was talking about.

Alright, enough with the technical stuff. Let’s talk about what makes this story last. The plot is strange but simple. Count Dracula (Bela Lugosi), a bloodsucking vampire, hypnotizes a real estate agent named Renfield (Dwight Frye) and takes a boat to London where he seduces two of his new neighbors. Big D kills Lucy (Frances Dade) and bites Mina (Helen Chandler), but before he can finish her off, Dr. Van Helsing (Edward Van Sloan) finishes the handsome paleface with a stake through the heart. I never really understood why the Count was going to London in the first place, but who cares because this movie looks so cool.

Lugosi’s look is iconic. The way his cape flows and envelopes him, you believe he could melt into a bat at any moment. He is also very handsome and his striking stare is entrancing. This movie has no carnage. All of his kills happen off screen but his menacing brood and smile make him just as imposing as modern slashers. It is easy to tell why every incarnation of Dracula since has aped Lugosi in some way. However, as good as he is, the performance that really stands out to me is Dwight Frye. His turn as Renfield is so insane and wild but also real. Any guy who can make a character determined to eat bugs and rats feel grounded certainly deserves recognition.

When you get down to it, Dracula is important because of the basic horror elements that it introduced into the mainstream. Much of these have been improved upon, but this is the film we remember because it got the ball rolling. In the next article, we will check out the Spanish language version of Dracula that was shot simultaneously with this film. Come join me to see how these versions hold up against each other.

Edward O’Hare, nickname TBD, has been poking around the deep caverns of pop culture for some years now. His hobbies include making Starfleet org charts and badgering people who haven’t seen the Adventures of Captain Marvel movie serial from 1941. He one day dreams of teaching Bill Simmons that superheroes and pro athletes are not all that different.