Richard III and Disinformation in TOWER OF LONDON (1939)

One probably doesn't go looking for timely political commentary in a film like Tower of London (1939), which offers a mashup of history and horror in its retelling of the bloody rise and fall of England's most reviled monarch. Much of the plot is familiar to viewers thanks to broad cultural awareness of Shakespeare's version and, perhaps, renewed 21st century interest that resulted from the discovery of Richard's bones in 2012. Tower of London, which was released in 1939, is very much a Hollywood vision of the Wars of the Roses, with Basil Rathbone starring as the murderously ambitious Richard. It generally favors the lurid and romantic over the strictly historical, a bent indicated by the presence of supporting players like Boris Karloff and Vincent Price. It's striking, then, to recognize the way in which this film depicts the insidious use of disinformation and a weaponized mob to influence political forces. Just like the hidden political operatives who manipulate our elections today, Richard III and his henchman, Mord, utilize a massive, medieval version of social media to undermine their opponents and assist their own ambitions.

We might not, at first, recognize the importance of the disinformation campaign to Richard's ascent. Shocking physical violence often overshadows the subtler efforts that propel the repugnant royal toward the throne. In the film, Richard has his enemies executed, drowns one brother in a vat of malmsey, has his young nephews brutally murdered, and conspires in the deaths of numerous other rivals. While he is a skilled swordsman, he normally avoids holding the murder weapons himself, preferring instead to have Mord commit the crimes or to fabricate grounds to get his enemies sent to the scaffold. Richard's general preference throughout is for the most underhanded, devious means of accomplishing his goals; his double dealing keeps everyone around him off balance and guessing at his true motives.

That inclination toward secretive, secondhand villainy fits perfectly with Richard's deployment of the rabble to spread lies and gossip that support his rise to power. We see in the film how Richard conducts this propaganda campaign, with Mord once again as his intermediary. Richard gives Mord the funding and the message to circulate, which Mord then takes to a collection of beggars who function as his network of infiltrators and spies. Somewhat comically, we see the mob rehearse their assigned lines under Mord's direction and then repeat them as they pretend to be casual spectators interspersed among the crowds. They work exactly like modern Russian agitators and other operatives on social media, taking their orders from the top and then presenting themselves as independent, sincere peers to the unsuspecting community. Their misinformation and propaganda spread through the kingdom until citizens rally in support of Richard and demand that he be crowned king, never suspecting that their actions have been carefully manipulated for that very end. The people affected by Richard's lies don't seem to realize - or care - that he has the blood of so many people on his hands.

Fortunately for history, Richard's propaganda is only temporarily successful, and, as we now know, his thoroughly abused corpse ended up buried beneath a Leicester car park. Tower of London ends on a positive note, with Queen Elyzabeth (Barbara O'Neil) rejoicing that she has saved her daughters from Richard's murderous reign and will one day see an heir to her line once more on the English throne (in reality, her eldest daughter, Elizabeth of York, would become Queen to Henry VII and the mother of Henry VIII). The bloodshed and damage, however, were not undone for the many who lost their lives during Richard's rise and fall, and modern viewers can't assume that a new Henry Tudor will show up to right the ship of state in our current global political crisis. While we might rightly relish the horror-tinged spectacle that Tower of London offers, we should also take to heart its dire message about the insidious efficiency of misinformation and the deliberate manipulation of the masses through whisper campaigns, whether they're conducted in a marketplace or on Facebook. Now is the winter of our discontent, indeed, and Richard's modern counterparts are hard at work to ensure that no glorious summer follows.

Classic Films in Focus: QUEEN OF BLOOD (1966)

With its lurid title and eerie opening credits, Queen of Blood (1966) promises a delirious sci-fi phantasmagoria that, sadly, it never delivers. Even Basil Rathbone and Dennis Hopper get bogged down in the picture's ponderous pace and refusal to pivot away from the pseudo-science that typically fills the slow parts of 50s and 60s science fiction films. It's a shame, too, because writer and director Curtis Harrington's ideas might have made for a truly unnerving narrative; the last third of the movie, with the predatory title character and her secret intentions, has a lot in common with Alien (1979), but you'll never worry about whether they can hear you scream in space when you're watching Queen of Blood.

Rathbone plays Dr. Farraday, the lead scientist for a space exploration group that mounts a rescue mission to Mars when an alien ship crashes there. Among the astronauts are alpha male Allan Brenner (John Saxon), his girlfriend, Laura James (Judi Meredith), and Paul Grant (Dennis Hopper). Once the astronauts locate the sole survivor of the alien wreck, they attempt to bring her to Earth, but the small crew gets smaller each day the alien stays on board. The remaining astronauts struggle to complete their mission without becoming the vampiric stranger's next meal.

Queen of Blood is set in the far future of 1990, where women finally get to be astronauts but still wear 60s hairstyles. Lots of references to moon bases and science are meant to show how far humans have come since 1966, but the movie is in no hurry to introduce its title character or even get its astronauts to Mars to look for her, and most of the scenes take place in small control rooms or the sterile, confined space of the rescue ship. The flashes we see of the aliens, who sport clear plastic crowns that look a bit like rabbit ears, are intriguing and vaguely disturbing, but they also remind us how deadly dull the humans are in comparison. It's never really clear if the aliens are the same species as the bloodthirsty queen; Dr. Farraday speculates about their intentions but doesn't give us solid answers. That ambiguity persists right to the end, when we're left with the distinctly unpleasant expectation that the humans are making a colossal mistake, but there's no effective build up of dread that would have given the ending a truly horrific punch.

The slow pace, closed spaces, and dry dialogue don't allow Basil Rathbone or the other actors to shine, and they rarely do anything except talk. Judi Meredith is more or less the lead as Laura James, and as the only woman Laura stands out among the very typical masculine characters who make up the rest of the crew. We don't get much sense of the individual personalities of the astronauts played by John Saxon, Dennis Hopper, Robert Boon, and Don Eitner, and as a result we don't really care if they live or die. When she finally does appear, the Queen of Blood, played by Florence Marly, has no lines and never even makes a sound, yet she still manages to be the most interesting character in the whole film. The male characters blithely assume that she isn't dangerous because she is so obviously female, and they treat her with patronizing kindness until they realize that she sees them as tasty snacks. Laura has to come to the rescue against this seductive predator, but it's a disappointing confrontation that wraps up much too quickly.

Curtis Harrington also wrote and directed Night Tide (1961), which handles its slow burn horror with more skill and gives young Dennis Hopper a more interesting role. For better late career performances from Basil Rathbone, see Tales of Terror (1962) and The Comedy of Terrors (1963). John Saxon, who is still working in 2018, is known for his appearances in the Nightmare on Elm Street series but can also be seen in Blood Beast from Outer Space (1965). You'll find both Saxon and Judi Meredith in Summer Love (1958). Be sure to note sci-fi icon and superfan Forrest J. Ackerman in a small role in Queen of Blood as Dr. Farraday's assistant.

Classic Films in Focus: TOWER OF LONDON (1939)

Tower of London (1939) lacks the poetic grandeur of Shakespeare's Richard III, but the story remains more or less the same, with an atmosphere of horror injected into the historical drama through the appearance of genre icons like Boris Karloff and Vincent Price. As history goes, this is bloody stuff, indeed; it opens with a beheading and goes on as it begins, and there's certainly enough death and torture to satisfy the bloodthirstiest horror fan. Basil Rathbone brings gravitas and intelligence to the role of Richard, while Karloff plays the executioner henchman who helps him murder his way to the throne. A fine supporting cast includes Ian Hunter, Barbara O'Neil, John Sutton, and the lovely Nan Grey, but most fans will flock to this film for the irresistible trio of Rathbone, Karloff, and Price.

As Richard, Duke of Gloucester, Rathbone schemes and slays in a bid for the English crown. To get there, he must first get rid of everyone ahead of him in line, including his brothers, King Edward IV (Ian Hunter) and the Duke of Clarence (Vincent Price), and his young nephews, the king's sons with long-suffering Queen Elyzabeth (Barbara O'Neil). Assisting Richard is Mord (Boris Karloff), a torturer and executioner whose own deformed foot creates a kinship with the hunchbacked Duke. While Richard murders his way to power, the Queen's followers, John Wyatt (John Sutton) and Lady Alice (Nan Grey), struggle to keep their love alive and to defend the country from Richard's evil reign.

As the subject matter implies, this is really Rathbone's film, and he gives a terrific performance, even if he doesn't get to spout any Shakespearean soliloquies. His Richard is not merely evil and repulsive; he has courage, genius, and the military prowess to match his ambition. His strange relationship with Anne Neville (Rose Hobart) proves that he has a certain charisma, too, like a snake that charms before striking. The discovery of the real Richard III's body in 2012 made him a celebrity again and shed new light on the historical record, but in many ways Rathbone's performance seems ahead of its time, especially in comparison with the way the king is portrayed in Shakespeare's play. Rathbone also gets to exercise his celebrated swordsmanship in several sparring scenes, which again emphasize the active, aggressive nature of this incarnation of his character.

The rest of the performers help to make Tower of London a very solid example of its type. John Sutton is something of a stand-in swashbuckler as John Wyatt, one of Richard's most determined opponents, and Nan Grey has several good scenes as his lady love, though her best is probably her rescue mission to help John escape from Richard's dungeon. Barbara O'Neil radiates maternal devotion and fear as the mother of the doomed little princes, while Ian Hunter makes a hale but too trusting Edward IV. Karloff, of course, owns his scenes as Mord; he and Rathbone pair up perfectly and convey a lot about their relationship through their expressions and body language. Mord yearns to see combat on the battlefield, and he mostly enjoys his murderous occupation, but the scene in which he is sent to murder the young princes adds just a touch of humanity to his villainous soul. Vincent Price, still at the start of his career in 1939, has a fairly small part as the weak-minded Clarence, but he makes the most of it, especially in his fateful drinking contest with Richard. The role presages those he would play later in life, especially in the Corman pictures and the AIP horror of the 70s.

Rowland V. Lee, who directed Tower of London, made a number of historical action pictures late in his career, including The Count of Monte Cristo (1934), The Three Musketeers (1935), and Captain Kidd (1945), but he also directed Karloff and Rathbone in the excellent Son of Frankenstein (1939). For more of Rathbone's great villains, see The Adventures of Robin Hood (1938) and The Mark of Zorro (1940). Karloff is justly famous for his monsters and fiends; to get beyond his Universal classics from the 30s, try Val Lewton horrors like The Body Snatcher (1945) and Bedlam (1946), or catch him in a more sympathetic mood in Corridors of Blood (1958). Fans will recognize Barbara O'Neil as Scarlett's mother in Gone with the Wind (1939), while John Sutton and Nan Gray can both be found with Vincent Price in The Invisible Man Returns (1940). For a double feature starring the trio of Rathbone, Karloff, and Price, follow up Tower of London with the delightfully macabre The Comedy of Terrors (1963), which also stars Peter Lorre.

Classic Films in Focus: BATHING BEAUTY (1944)

Although she makes appearances in two earlier feature films, Bathing Beauty (1944) marks the debut of Esther Williams as a fully realized Hollywood star, with plenty of opportunities to show off her attractive figure and her signature swimming skills. This light, frothy comedy from director George Sidney is typical of the wartime Technicolor musicals released to buoy public morale and entertain the troops overseas; it doesn't take itself very seriously, and its thin plot is as much an excuse for a series of musical set pieces as anything else. In spite of that, Bathing Beauty provides plenty of entertainment for those who enjoy its particular kind of musical comedy, with Williams looking lovely and quite game for her romantic high jinks with costar Red Skelton. Musical performances from Xavier Cugat, Harry James, and Ethel Smith also make this a fun film for fans of the era's big band sound.

Williams stars as Caroline Brooks, a swimming teacher at a women's college who falls in love with song writer Steve Elliot (Red Skelton) during a trip to California. When Steve's friend and employer, George (Basil Rathbone), breaks up the couple's wedding with a phony bigamy claim, Caroline goes back to her job at the school, and Steve enrolls there as a student in order to convince her of his innocence. The faculty conspire to get Steve expelled, while his musician friends and new college classmates work equally hard to help him out.

As slight as its plot is, there are moments when Bathing Beauty falters, mostly in the bizarre waste of Basil Rathbone as the cause of Steve's marital woes. Williams occasionally shows her inexperience, as well, but she has a natural charm that quickly wins the audience over. She's an all-American beauty, tall, athletic, but utterly feminine, and she's especially flirtatious in her underwater scenes. The movie originally belonged to Red Skelton, with the title Mr. Co-Ed, but Williams usurped him and caused the focus of the picture to be altered. In spite of being knocked to second place, Skelton still has all of the movie's funniest scenes, and his character remains the most interesting and developed figure in the story. His ballet sequence, complete with pink tutu, is a scream, but he's also a lot of fun in his musical number, "I'll Take the High Note," performed with the adorably spunky Jean Porter. Skelton, whose mentor at MGM was Buster Keaton, excels at an expressive, physical comedy that recalls the silent era; he has the sweetness of a classic clown rather than the brash bravado of a Pre-Code comedian or more verbal comedic leads like Jack Carson. There's something sincere and vulnerable about Skelton's character that causes us to root for him even in the most ridiculous circumstances, like the scene when his romantic rival's huge dog keeps him trapped in Caroline's house, and he resorts to wearing her clothes in order to fool the beast.

Musical sequences fill as much of the film's running time as the narrative itself, offering audiences across the country a chance to enjoy the performances of the era's biggest acts. Although they play themselves, the musical stars also contribute to the story line by interacting with the protagonists and trying to help Steve, but they're really there to show off their stuff. Band leader Xavier Cugat and his orchestra open the picture with a poolside performance, assisted by Carlos Ramirez singing "Magic is the Moonlight." Harry James and his orchestra also perform, with James tearing it up on the trumpet. More unusual is the appearance of organist Ethel Smith as one of the college's music teachers; her numbers, which emphasize her footwork and sense of fun, are especially entertaining. Disney fans might recognize Smith from her "Blame It on the Samba" segment in Melody Time (1948), and she turns up again in the 1946 Williams picture, Easy to Wed.

Be sure to note familiar character actor Donald Meek in a brief but significant role; he gives Steve the idea to enroll at Victoria College. For more from George Sidney, see Anchors Aweigh (1945), The Harvey Girls (1946), and Kiss Me Kate (1953); Sidney directs Williams again in Jupiter's Darling (1955). Esther Williams and Red Skelton both appear in Ziegfeld Follies (1945), Neptune's Daughter (1949), and Texas Carnival (1951). See Williams with different leading men in Easy to Wed (1946), Take Me Out to the Ballgame (1949), and Dangerous When Wet (1953). Skelton had a long television career, for which he is best remembered today, but you can see his earlier work in films like Ship Ahoy (1942), Panama Hattie (1942), and Du Barry Was a Lady (1943).

Classic Films in Focus: THE BLACK CAT (1941)

Like many of the old dark house pictures of its era, The Black Cat (1941) relies upon an offbeat mixture of comedy and horror, zipping from gasps to giggles like a cheerily macabre carnival ride. For some horror purists, the goofier elements of these films repel, but it's easy to imagine a throng of matinee youngsters reveling in the quick turns and reversals that The Black Cat provides. You never know if a secret door will open to horrors or hilarity, and therein lies the appeal of the whole genre. Though it's not to be confused with the earlier and generally better regarded 1934 film of the same name, the 1941 outing does offer a delightful cast of character actors, including Basil Rathbone, Bela Lugosi, Gale Sondergaard, Broderick Crawford, and a young Alan Ladd.

Broderick Crawford stumbles through the proceedings as Gil, an eager opportunist looking to arrange the sale of the Winslow estate and earn the affection of lovely Elaine (Anne Gwynne), one of the prospective heirs. After Gil turns up with loopy furniture dealer Mr. Penny (Hugh Herbert), the residents of the house experience a series of shocks, starting with the suspicious death of estate owner Henrietta Winslow (Cecilia Loftus). As the heirs squabble over Henrietta's will, more strange events unfold, with secret passages and an ominous black cat helping a killer eliminate anyone who gets in the way.

The plot strongly resembles those of The Cat and the Canary (1927) and The Old Dark House (1932), although it has very little to do with the Edgar Allan Poe story from which it and the 1934 picture draw their titles. Its chills rely mostly on a mysterious killer who sneaks through the house using a maze of secret passages, but Gale Sondergaard is by far the scariest of the regular residents as the creepy housekeeper, Abigail. The camera angles highlight the weird angles of her face and her leering eyes to great effect, and she certainly knows how to milk the role for every bit of the audience's attention. Cecilia Loftus also benefits from creative camera work when she first appears onscreen; her eyes freakishly exaggerated by the thick spectacles she wears, she looks more like a creature from another world than a frail old lady with a harmless love for cats. Sadly, the film's most famous actors don't enjoy as much opportunity to demonstrate their talents. Basil Rathbone's Montague Hartley is a cad, but not an especially frightening one, and he doesn't really have enough to do, while Bela Lugosi's hairy groundskeeper is mostly deployed to rattle Gil and create confusion. Alan Ladd plays the sort of role one expects Elisha Cook, Jr. to fill, a minor part but fraught with anxiety and accusation. One year later he would appear in This Gun for Hire (1942) and become a true cinema star.

The comedy elements are hit or miss, with Broderick Crawford generally likable as Gil but Hugh Herbert laying it on much too thick with his trademark schtick. If you like his antics you'll love him here, but his character thwarts the action right up to the last moment, and he's too dense to understand the climactic life-or-death situation. Gil, however, manages to straddle the two genres, even though his efforts to unmask the killer repeatedly land him in ludicrous mishaps. It's an unusual role for Broderick Crawford, who would go on to win an Oscar for Best Actor in All the King's Men (1949). Here he gets to be comedian, amateur detective, and romantic lead all at once, sneezing helplessly at the omnipresent cats but persisting in uncovering the truth even when everyone else derides his claims. Crawford's Gil functions as the reliable, all-American everyman at the center of the unpredictable action; even if the assembled cast is awash in red herrings - which it certainly is - we know we can depend on Gil to be the good guy all the way through, and if he sometimes gets goofy that only serves to make him more familiar and reassuring. Lee Tracy serves a similar if more streetwise function in Doctor X (1932), and Bob Hope covers the same territory in The Cat and the Canary (1939) and The Ghost Breakers (1940).

Director Albert Rogell made over one hundred movies but never became well known; his other pictures include Li'l Abner (1940) and In Old Oklahoma (1943). For more of Broderick Crawford, see Larceny, Inc. (1942),  Black Angel (1946), and Born Yesterday (1950). Gale Sondergaard won Best Supporting Actress for Anthony Adverse (1936), but be sure to catch her in The Mark of Zorro (1940) and The Letter (1940), as well. If you go for Hugh Herbert's comedy style, can find him in A Midsummer Night's Dream (1935), Hollywood Hotel (1937), and There's One Born Every Minute (1942).

Classic Films in Focus: TALES OF TERROR (1962)

Most of Roger Corman's Poe movies stretch the author's short stories into feature length plots, but in Tales of Terror (1962) the director opts for an anthology approach, presenting a handful of tales in three distinct segments. Vincent Price, naturally, stars in all three, but his costars change with each story; Peter Lorre and Basil Rathbone make particularly memorable appearances, along with leading ladies Debra Paget, Leona Gage, Maggie Pierce, and Joyce Jameson. The segments vary in tone and quality, but overall Tales of Terror offers a good time for fans of Corman's unique take on the horror genre, and those who admire Vincent Price get the special pleasure of seeing him play three very different Poe characters in rapid succession.

The anthology opens with "Morella," in which Price plays a lonely widower haunted by the premature death of his beautiful wife (Leona Gage). The return of his dying daughter (Maggie Pierce) stirs him to long repressed emotion, but her presence also awakens the malevolent spirit of Morella. In "The Black Cat," Peter Lorre stars as the drunken Montresor, whom Price antagonizes in the guise of the wine critic Fortunato. When Fortunato has an affair with Montresor's wife (Joyce Jameson), Montresor decides to murder both of them, but his wife's pet cat thwarts his attempts to hide the crime. Price returns as the title character in the final segment, "The Case of M. Valdemar," in which Basil Rathbone plays a sinister mesmerist who seeks to control a dead man's will.

"Morella," the weakest of the three acts, makes for an awkward start to the collection, since it is neither seriously uncanny nor amusingly campy. Morella's grudge against her husband and daughter is never entirely clear, although the final conflagration does present an interesting spectacle. Both of the other segments, though wildly different from one another, succeed better and reward the viewer's perseverance. "The Black Cat" combines the plot of Poe's original version with that of "The Cask of Amontillado," twisting both tales into a single narrative that exploits its stars' talent for pitch black comedy. Lorre's Montresor is a drunkard and a buffoon, while Price's character is a supercilious fop, but both excel at this kind of work, and Lorre milks the part for every bit of dry, dark humor. The last story breaks in the other direction, toward the truly horrific, with Valdemar's soul held hostage in his corpse by the diabolical Carmichael. Basil Rathbone gives a chilling performance, especially toward the end, when Carmichael uses his power over the dead man to claim Valdemar's widow and fortune for himself.

Aside from Poe, whose work Corman always adapts very loosely, Vincent Price serves as the unifying element for the three vignettes, and his different roles give viewers a chance to survey his varying approaches to horror. He plays it straight in both "Morella" and "The Case of M. Valdemar," first as the haunted victim of horrors and then as the monstrous being who haunts others. In "Morella" he also displays signs of nervous decay, and Price is always reliable as a character who is rapidly coming unglued. His Valdemar does not become a ghoul willingly, but Price makes for a very unnerving animated corpse, and his climactic scene might be one of the scariest bits of the actor's career. In "The Black Cat" he indulges in the gallows humor for which he is well remembered by cult horror-comedy fans, romping through gruesome gags and hamming it up enthusiastically, especially during the wine tasting contest. Lorre makes an excellent partner in crime for this sort of macabre merriment; his short, rotund figure and dour expressions contrast Price's elegant height and overly refined manner perfectly. Price gets to work through all of these modes at greater length in the other Corman productions and in his later work during the 1970s, but the anthology of shorts provides a chance to compare and contrast his methods in each segment. Even when the material is not as good as it might be, as in the case of "Morella," Price gives it his best, and he's always fun to watch.

To see Price, Lorre, and Rathbone together again, move on to The Comedy of Terrors (1963), which also features Joyce Jameson and Boris Karloff. Corman reunites Lorre and Price for The Raven (1963), as well, and you can catch Price and Rathbone together in the much earlier Tower of London (1939). For a survey of Price's roles in other Corman Poe pictures, see House of Usher (1960), The Pit and the Pendulum (1961), and The Tomb of Ligeia (1964). Twice Told Tales (1963) offers a similar anthology of stories, this time from the works of Nathaniel Hawthorne, with Price again starring in every segment. Basil Rathbone is best remembered for playing Sherlock Holmes, but if you like the idea of him as a horror star, check out The Son of Frankenstein (1939), The Black Cat (1941), and The Black Sleep (1956).

Classic Films in Focus: SON OF FRANKENSTEIN (1939)

After the success of Frankenstein (1931) and The Bride of Frankenstein (1935), it’s not really a surprise that Universal would continue the series with a third film, although Son of Frankenstein (1939) takes us forward in time to the next generation of the famously doomed family. Boris Karloff returns as the iconic creature, this time in company with Basil Rathbone, Bela Lugosi, and Lionel Atwill, all of whom create memorable characters in their respective roles. Although it is not as well-known as the first two films, partly because of the departure of James Whale as director, this third movie is a worthy entry in the series that also boasts one of Lugosi’s more entertaining performances as the living dead man, Ygor.

Many years after his father’s death, Baron Wolf von Frankenstein (Rathbone) and his family return from England to the ancestral home, much to the dismay of the local villagers, who believe that the son will bring back the horrors of his father’s time. Soon enough, Wolf encounters the mangled Ygor (Lugosi), who leads him to the comatose but living creature (Karloff) and encourages him to restore it to its former power. Hoping to vindicate his father’s work, Wolf revitalizes the monster with predictably disastrous results, while Inspector Krogh (Atwill) struggles to protect the baron’s family from threats both within and without the walls of their estate.

Rathbone makes an elegant and interesting Frankenstein, a man torn between his family’s past and future. On one side he has his lovely wife (Josephine Hutchinson) and his curly-mopped young son (Donnie Dunagan) to think about and defend, but on the other he feels drawn by his father’s legacy and an overwhelming desire to continue and validate the dead man’s work. As he sinks deeper into the fatal project, he becomes increasingly unhinged, and Rathbone delivers a particularly manic performance in the final scenes. Karloff doesn’t really have that much to do as the monster, but Lugosi creates a fantastic character in the menacing, broken-necked Ygor; variations of the figure would become an integral part of later Frankenstein stories, and Lugosi deserves credit for making such a strong impression, even though Dwight Frye had originated a similar character under the name of Fritz in the original Whale film. Lionel Atwill also has a memorable role as the one-armed police inspector, whose bizarre movements are copied almost exactly by Kenneth Mars in Young Frankenstein (1974). The film creates a very suggestive connection between Inspector Krogh, who lost his arm to the creature when he was a small child, and Frankenstein’s own young son, Peter.

Director Rowland V. Lee might not be as brilliant as James Whale, but Son of Frankenstein still possesses a very effective visual style. The Gothic scenery is wonderfully evocative of the German expressionist tradition in silent horror, with interiors that recall The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari (1920) and Nosferatu (1922). Long shadows cut across oversized arches and cold, angular rooms, giving the Frankenstein home all the warmth and charm of an echoing tomb. The Baroness is struck by the character of her new home from the very start, and we understand why she eventually admits to feeling afraid all the time even though she has no idea of the lumbering horror her husband’s house conceals.

You’ll find both Karloff and Atwill in House of Frankenstein (1944), although Glenn Strange takes over the role of the creature. See more of Karloff in The Mummy (1932), Bedlam (1946), and The Comedy of Terrors (1963). Lugosi, best known for Dracula (1931), also appears in The Wolf Man (1941), The Ghost of Frankenstein (1942), and Frankenstein Meets the Wolf Man (1943). Don’t miss Basil Rathbone’s performances in The Adventures of Robin Hood (1938) and The Mark of Zorro (1949); he is also remembered today for his many screen appearances as Sherlock Holmes.

An earlier version of this review originally appeared on Examiner.com. The author retains all rights to this content.

10 Classic Movies Inspired by Edgar Allan Poe

Quoth the raven, "Nevermore!"

Movies and shorts inspired by the works of Edgar Allan Poe first appeared during the silent era, but Poe’s greatest age came in the 1960s, when Roger Corman made the author his macabre muse for a series of cult horror classics. With Vincent Price as his leading man, Corman defined the Poe movie canon for generations of horror fans. Here are ten classic movies inspired by Poe’s works, with special emphasis on the Corman pictures.

The Black Cat (1934) – Universal monster stars Boris Karloff and Bela Lugosi head up the cast in this hit film from the golden age of classic horror. Like most movie “adaptations” of Poe’s work, the story takes many liberties with the original text and functions more as a tribute to Poe’s influence than a strict translation.

The Raven (1935) – Following on the success of the 1934 picture, this Universal horror treatment again teams Karloff and Lugosi in the lead roles, although the story is once more really a tribute to Poe’s work than an actual adaptation of it.

The Black Cat (1941) – Well-known stars like Basil Rathbone, Broderick Crawford, and Bela Lugosi appear in this adaptation from Universal Pictures and director Albert S. Rogell.

House of Usher (1960) – Corman’s first Poe movie stars horror favorite Vincent Price as Roderick Usher. While Corman’s film is more faithful to Poe than many other pictures, the story still makes major changes to the plot of the original tale, including a romance between the house guest and Madeline Usher.

Pit and the Pendulum (1961) – Richard Matheson wrote the screenplay for this Corman adaptation of one of Poe’s best-known tales, which stars Vincent Price, John Kerr, and Barbara Steele in the leading roles.

 

Premature Burial (1962) – Ray Milland and scream queen Hazel Court star in this Corman production, the only Poe picture not to star Vincent Price. 

Tales of Terror (1962) – Richard Matheson once again contributes the screenplay for Corman’s anthology of shorts inspired by several Poe tales, including “The Black Cat,” “Morella,” “The Cast of Amontillado,” and “The Facts in the Case of M. Valdemar.” The teaming of Peter Lorre and Price for this picture’s version of “The Cask of Amontillado” is a highlight for fans.

The Raven (1963) – This horror comedy from Corman unites Vincent Price with Boris Karloff, Peter Lorre, and Hazel Court for a rather silly but fun take on Poe’s most famous poem. A young Jack Nicholson also appears as Peter Lorre’s son.

The Masque of the Red Death (1964) – Vincent Price and Hazel Court star in yet another Corman film, which also incorporates elements from a different Poe story, “Hop-Frog.”

The Tomb of Ligeia (1964) – Price stars with Elizabeth Shepherd in the last of Corman’s Poe pictures, this time a story of obsession that reaches beyond the grave. The outdoor location shots early in the movie set this picture apart from the earlier Corman productions.

While The Haunted Palace (1963) is often listed with the Poe films, and its title is taken from a poem featured in “The Fall of the House of Usher,” the story actually comes from H.P. Lovecraft. Still, you’ll find Vincent Price teamed up with Lon Chaney, Jr., Elisha Cook, Jr., and Debra Paget in this bonus “Poe picture” from Corman.

An earlier version of this article originally appeared on Examiner.com. The author retains all rights to this content.

Classic Films in Focus: CASANOVA'S BIG NIGHT (1954)

You'd think a star-studded costume comedy like Casanova's Big Night (1954) would have everything it needed to be a huge success, but it never quite comes together. Perhaps it's Bob Hope's awkward brand of humor that doesn't quite suit the material, or the embarrassment of seeing heavyweight character players like Basil Rathbone, Joan Fontaine, John Carradine, Lon Chaney, Jr., and even Vincent Price being largely thrown away on half-hearted gags. The real shame is that a cast like that ought to be enough to make any picture work, and there really are a couple of interesting moments scattered throughout the film, but overall it fails to live up to its evocation of the legendary lover and his romantic adventures.

Bob Hope plays Pippo, a nervous tailor who impersonates the real Casanova (Vincent Price) in order to woo an attractive widow (Joan Fontaine). When Casanova himself skips town to avoid his creditors, Pippo is coerced into playing his part in a complicated scheme involving a lovely young bride (Audrey Dalton) and the embroidered petticoat on which her family's honor depends. Casanova's valet (Basil Rathbone) joins the widow to help Pippo carry out the deception and obtain the petticoat, but Pippo begins to have second thoughts about his part in the plan when he gets to know the innocent young woman whose marriage will be ruined should he succeed.

Hope can be very funny, but his scenes in Casanova's Big Night mostly fall flat. His best moment might be his drag impersonation of a foreign dignitary, although he never really seems to have much enthusiasm for his role. Vincent Price disappears completely after the first few minutes, which is too bad because a comedy about Price's misadventures as the scoundrel Casanova might have been a lot more interesting. Basil Rathbone seems almost ashamed of himself for being in the picture, and his fencing talents are underutilized in a film that would have been perfectly suited to swashbuckling action. Of the lot, Joan Fontaine probably gets the best opportunity to work her material, and we see her dueling with swords, rowing gondolas, brandishing skillets, and disguising herself as a man in various entertaining scenes. Other notable stars, like John Carradine, Lon Chaney, Jr., and Raymond Burr turn up in small parts that don't particularly do them justice.

The breaking of the fourth wall at the end of the picture strikes me as contrived and overly cute, perhaps because Hope is so smarmy. Normally a little meta-humor is a welcome addition, but here it just feels like the movie painted itself into a corner and couldn't come up with a better way to end. Paramount rolled out the bells and whistles for this production, with splendid Technicolor costumes by Edith Head and plenty of showy set pieces, but these embellishments can't make up for the basic lethargy of the story and its protagonist.

If you like swashbuckling comedies, try The Court Jester (1955) instead. A comparison of the two pictures reveals everything that Casanova's Big Night could have done better but didn't. For a better Bob Hope comedy, see The Ghost Breakers (1940). Look for the other stars of this forgettable picture in many of Hollywood's most memorable movies, including The Adventures of Robin Hood (1938), Rebecca (1940), The Wolf Man (1941), and Laura (1944).