Showing posts with label Pre Hays Code. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Pre Hays Code. Show all posts

06 October 2024

The Best Horror Film Ever Made Is 90 Years Old: The Black Cat.

“Supernatural? Perhaps. Baloney? Perhaps not. There are many things under the sun.”—Dr. Vitus Werdegast, The Black Cat.





By the mid-1930s, Universal Studios hit its stride with the horror film genre. For over the last decade, the studio released a number of fine movies but really made both cultural and financial impacts when in 1931, Tod Browning’s Dracula Béla Lugosi, Edward Van Sloan, Helen Chandler, David Manners and Dwight Frye was released (both Lugosi and Van Sloan appeared in the 1924 Broadway play; the studio also released a Spanish language version starring Carlos Villarías, Lupita Tovar, Barry Norton and Pablo Álvarez Rubio, which was directed by George Melford. Both were successful and over the next three years, Universal released Frankenstein with Boris Karloff, The Mummy (1932) again with Karloff; Lugosi’s Murders in the Rue Morgue (1932); Karloff’s The Old Dark House (1932); and The Invisible Man (1933) starring Claude Rains. Aside from The Old Dark House, the other films each would spawn a series of sequels that drew in audiences.

Universal wasn’t about to let up, so they decided to produce other films—and then someone had the truly brilliant idea of pairing the studio’s most popular actors: Karloff and Lugosi. The Black Cat was the first of eight films starring the two, all but one produced by Universal Studios. The film was notable for Lugosi as one of the “good guys” while Karloff essays one of his best menacing and villainous roles in his career.

Another great idea was hiring director Edgar G. Ulmer.

Ulmer was a highly versatile and talented filmmaker of Jewish-Moravian descent. Despite primarily working on B movies and low-budget productions in Hollywood, he gained a cult following among critics who praised his unique style and eccentric approach to storytelling. Ulmer was known as 'The King of PRC' for his remarkable output at Poverty Row studios. Some of his most renowned works include the eerie, atmospheric science fiction film, 1951’s The Man From Planet X and the moody, captivating film noir Detour (1945).

Ulmer, along with screenwriter/pulp mystery writer Peter Ruric—known by his real name, Gregory Sims—they developed the story, “suggested  by” Edgar Allen Poe’s The Black Cat; Ruric then wrote the screenplay—and by 1934’s standards, even before the Hays Code took effect, it’s one hell of an off-the-hook story.

On their honeymoon in Hungary, American crime writer Peter Alison and his new bride Joan are told that, due to an error, they will have to share a train compartment with Dr. Vitus Werdegast, a Hungarian psychiatrist on his way to visit an old acquaintance. As the night progresses, the couple discovers that Werdegast left his home 18 years ago to fight in World War I and has not seen his wife and daughter since then, as he spent the last 15 years in a notorious prison camp in Siberia.

In the midst of darkness and heavy rain, Peter, Joan, Werdegast and Thamal, Werdegast's loyal servant, transfer to a small bus. As they draw near to Werdegast's destination—the secluded mansion built by Austrian architect Hjalmar Poelzig atop the ruins of Fort Marmorus—the driver loses control and crashes the vehicle. The crash claims the driver's life and leaves Joan injured, but Peter, Werdegast and Thamal can carry her to Poelzig's eerie house.

If the story sounds familiar, well, some have said The Rocky Horror Show/The Rocky Horror Picture Show is a remake of The Black Cat. The Black Cat is a better film.

Joan starts acting strangely and it’s quite apparent that Werdegast and Poelzig—who was based on infamous occultist Aleister Crowley while the name Poelzig was taken from Austrian architect, Hans Poelzig—share a sinister secret and scheming against one another. It’s soon revealed that Poelzig, after Werdegast was imprisoned somewhere in Siberia, marries Karen, Werdegast’s wife, and along with her daughter, also named Karen, build a new life. However, the elder Karen mysteriously dies and Poelzig marries the younger Karen.

Poelzig is also a satanic cult’s high priest and a full moon is about to happen—and he plans to use Joan for the black mass’ sacrifice.

Werdegast tells a frightened, bewildered Joan:

Did you ever hear of Satanism, the worship of the devil, of evil? Herr Poelzig is a great modern priest of that ancient cult. And tonight in the dark of the moon the rites of Lucifer are celebrated. And if I'm not mistaken, he intends you to play a part in that ritual . . . a very important part.”

Despite Poelzig’s evil plans and having the odds in his favor, Werdegast hatches a desperate gambit to save the American couple and get his revenge—no matter what.

The movie had a major impact on me was I was younger; I was 14 years old when I first saw it—one of the local TV stations showed old Universal horror films on late Friday nights, while on it was old mystery film series on Saturday nights, starting with Sherlock Holmes. I hadn’t heard of The Black Cat before so I didn’t know what to expect. From the very beginning, I was transfixed, mesmerized and totally blown away.

Even by Pre-Code Hollywood standards, Ulmer and Ruric pushed the envelope in many ways: The Black Cat unravels like a haunting nightmare, filled with disturbing scenes of serial murders involving women as victims, necrophilia, ailurophobia—the fear of cats—drug abuse, disturbing implications of incest, a deadly duel played out as a game of chess, brutal torture, skinning and a gruesome human sacrifice. This truly bizarre yet mesmerizing masterpiece, barely lasting an hour, complete with still jarring and unsettling images still lingering in my mind long after all these years.

The Black Cat's budget was $95,745 ($2.2 million today) and it made over $236,000 ($5.4 million today). The film was Universal Studios biggest hit of 1934.

The film has tension, a pair of great actors in their prime, moody, sinister atmosphere and briskly paced; again, clocking in at an hour or so, The Black Cat packs a punch and delivers more than any “modern” film made over the years. Like Halloween, there’s no gore but the shocking violence is present, it’s implied: Kristy Marlana Wallace, also known as Poison Ivy or Poison Ivy Rorschach—the Cramps’ cofounder and guitarist, as well as a horror film afficionado—once said: "(When) ******* gets skinned alive at the end but they show the shadow of it and somehow that's more gruesome.”

Reservoir Dogs. Michael Madsen’s Mr. Blonde cuts off the cop’s ear and Quintin Tarantino shot two versions: One where you see Mr. Blonde cuts off the ear; the second version is of the Mr. Blonde and the cop’s shadows are seen on the wall as the cop’s ear is sliced off.

Guess which version worked for the audience and used?

The second one. People found it more than gruesome.

Ulmer knew it’d work—but he had no other options but he made it work.

Both Carpenter and Tarantino knew it worked well.

If you’ve never seen The Black Cat, I think you should check it out. More than nine decades later, it holds well today and if you love certain aspects of filmmaking, from lighting and set design—in fact, Poelzig’s cavernous fortress-turned-home becomes a character itself. The Black Cat is available for rent or buy from most major streaming platforms. It’s even available to watch for free on the Internet Archive . . . it’s grainy but still watchable.

I hope you’ll take my advice and watch The Black Cat. You won’t be disappointed and I think you’ll enjoy it.

Be seeing you.

-30-





The Best Horror Film Ever Made Is 90 Years Old: The Black Cat.

“Supernatural? Perhaps. Baloney? Perhaps not. There are many things under the sun.” —Dr. Vitus Werdegast, The Black Cat. By the mid-1930s, U...