The Kiss of Death

CAT PEOPLE (1942)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

I imagine the youth of the 2010 era are so jaded and numbed by excessive violence in horror films that they forget the crucial tool that put horror in the map in the first place - imagination. Imagination needs implication, needs shadows and, in some cases, ambiguity to survive. "The Exorcist" is still the top favorite in my supernatural horror diet despite having the occasional gross-out moment - the violence in that picture was essential so we believed that a spirit was really inside a little girl. Among my favorite horror flicks ever pre-1973 are: "The Bride of Frankenstein," "Dracula's Daughter" and the eternally frightening 1922 German Dracula version, "Nosferatu." I love most Universal horror flicks of the 1930's but a true nail-biter in this genre is the vivid, quixotic and touching "Cat People," a 1942 Val Lewton production that is classy, vastly spooky and romantic. It is the kind of picture where mood is everything.

Simone Simon is Irena, a Serbian fashion designer who is drawn to Central Park Zoo. She sketches the panthers in the cages, and nothing else. One gentleman's interest is piqued by this woman and he decides to talk to her. He is Oliver Reed (Kent Smith), a marine engineer who is invited by Irena to her apartment for tea (it is amazing how times have changed since 1942). He is quite intrigued by her and his heart melts at the sight of her, especially when she talks about her homeland of Serbia, devil worship and cats being a symbol of evil. All this emanates from Irena's King John of Serbia statue where the monarch is shown impaling a panther with a sword.

Irena and Oliver get married but their first night together shows them sleeping in different beds. Irena is afraid of intimacy and Oliver tries to get her to see a psychiatrist, Dr. Louis (Tom Conway), to peel away at her fears. Oliver seeks intimacy and advice from his best friend and co-worker, Alice Moore (Jane Randolph) since he doesn't have a clue on how to handle timidness. If all this sounds intriguing enough, consider why Irena is incapable of intimacy - she might turn into one of the "cat people."

Fluidly directed by Jacques Tourneur and brilliantly shot with deep shadows by cinematographer Nicholas Musuraca (the shadows are so stark that you might think you are seeing the color red), "Cat People" is an extraordinary, breathless journey that says so much in just under 75 minutes. Sympathy develops for Simone Simon's Irena, a woman who means no harm and is aware of what she is. Her tragic family stories alone resonate and hang over her like a halo dripped with blood (the actress was far more evil and sinister in 1941's "The Devil and Daniel Webster"). And when Irena turns into a panther (a transformation we never see), we hear the roar, the snarl, without seeing too much of the wild animal. Two scenes stand out and are amazingly effective in this regard: the Central Park sequence (interrupted by a transit bus, known as the "Lewton bus") and the swimming pool scene that left me shivering with fright. I will say no more because they have to be experienced.

Smith's Oliver Reed also cuts a sympathetic figure, a man who wants nothing more than to love the most forlorn woman I can recall of the 1940's cinema (this was the age of Barbara Stanwyck and Bette Davis, two women who could never be called shy). We wonder why Oliver didn't match up his love with Jane Randolph's Alice sooner, but then we wouldn't have a movie. It is clear that Oliver might sense a hellcat of a woman in Irena waiting to pounce (perhaps in the bedroom), or maybe he thinks foreign women are not as guarded as some American women.

"Cat People" is a frightful little masterpiece in every sense of the word and, sadly, a film that probably could never be made today, at least not in the same manner or style. I love some gross-out horror movies too but what "Cat People" accomplishes is finding fear in the everyday. That is part of its charm and part of its everlasting impact. I can't imagine a more thrilling way for a horror fan to spend 73 minutes.

An aerobic, sashaying Gill Man

THE CREATURE FROM THE BLACK LAGOON (1954)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

Ostensibly a run-of-the-mill creature feature, 1954's "The Creature From the Black Lagoon" is among the best in the genre it inspired. It is loaded with enough thrills, chills and spine-tingling moments to warrant that old phrase - a delightful Saturday afternoon matinee showing. "Black Lagoon" fits the bill and it has an awesome, iconic monster to boot, later known as Gill Man.

An expedition of scientists are given a rare discovery from the Amazon thanks to Dr. Maia (Antonio Moreno) - a prehistoric, fossilized, severed amphibious hand. This naturally leads them to the Amazon, which leads to the ominous Black Lagoon. In this lagoon is an amphibious living creature that kills anyone trying to meddle in its watery paradise, though our crew is unaware what lurks in these waters. Dr. David Reed (Richard Carlson) leads the expedition, determined to study the creature. Kay (Julie Adams) is his fiancee, who comes equipped with a one-piece bathing suit (remember this is a 50's B-movie). Mark Williams (Richard Denning) is the greedy boss who sees dollar signs everywhere - he rather kill the Gill Man with a harpoon.

Shot in 3-D and released as such, "Creature from the Black Lagoon" scored well at the box-office and saved Universal-International Pictures from bankruptcy. "Lagoon" has all the elements in place for a 50's B-horror movie, but what it contains that few of its ilk contain is lucid, almost poetic lyricism in its underwater scenes. Watching the Gill Man swim underwater as it sashays from one end of the lagoon to the other is truly hypnotic. And though there are the cliches of the Gill Man's webbed hand or face appearing out of water accompanied by striking musical chords, it still brings a chill to the spine. What is fascinating is that the Gill Man subtly moves its mouth and its gills - you are scared by it and hope everyone gets out alive. Its resistance to killing Kay makes the monster sympathetic, though I can't figure out why this creature spares her life and carries her around a damp cave. Watching, however, Julie Adams swimming gracefully and aerobically above the surface, from the Creature's point-of-view, is chilling and evokes the thrills that Spielberg no doubt adopted for his own "Jaws" twenty years later. Maybe that is why the Creature can't kill her - it might think she is an amphibian too.

The characters are stock and one-dimensional at best (a silly fistfight might make some groan), and Julie Adams shows some intelligence but you know her existence in this movie is to make the guys swoon. The Gill Man, though, is the real star and it never seems anything less than a prehistoric creature (the studio didn't give credit to the two actors who played the Gill Man - Ricou Browning in underwater shots and Ben Chapman on land - for fear that the public might think it is an actor in a suit, according to the late Ben Chapman who didn't receive credit till 1992). "Creature from the Black Lagoon" is not great art but it is pulpy, juicy, frightfully good pop art. At the end of the film, I guarantee your spine will tingle a little.

Those damn fire ants...

 THE NAKED JUNGLE (1954)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

For my level of interest in pure adventure tales, Byron Haskin's "The Naked Jungle" fits the bill to a tee. It is a jungle melodrama with all the trappings of a pulpy B-movie, complete with a firm, tough, pistol-packing Charlton Heston, a beautiful flame-haired dame, lots of stock Indian natives, a luxurious house on a South American plantation, the cliched jungle creature sounds, and lots of nasty fire ants (yes, Indiana Jones fans, this is the genesis of the hungry fire ants attacking humans in the last Indy flick).

Heston, never a great actor but a towering, raging, full of gusto and self-important kind of actor, plays Christopher Leiningen, a plantation owner of cocoa fields who gets a mail-ordered bride from New Orleans. The problem is that he might have expected a brainless bimbo and instead he gets a cultured woman named Joanna (Eleanor Parker), who knows several languages and can play the piano. Christopher is an impotent man who spent too many years in the jungle without a woman. Thus, he is immediately scornful of her due to her independence and ability to stand up to him, yet he slowly begins to like her. Of course, this couple is mismatched and so he is ready to send her home until fire ants, known as the Marabunta, are scurrying their way through his plantation and cocoa fields. Chris, the man of action, is ready to destroy these ants with dynamite and this makes him potent and ready to kiss his leading lady without compromise. Nope, she is not headed back to New Orleans.

Crisply directed by Byron Haskins ("War of the Worlds), "Naked Jungle" spends a lot of time on the developing relationship between Chris and Joanna. Precious little time is devoted to Chris's imperialist attitude and his acceptance of these natives, whom he doesn't abuse which is why they work for him in the first place - all they might do is shrink a head or two. It is a typical adventure movie of the 50's where the white man is the savior among a supposedly inferior race. The feminists are likely to fret over Chris's machismo that is rejuvenated by a woman of taste and elegance. At least she is ready to give up her white umbrella to the natives.

Pulp is never meant to be taken seriously, nor is this movie, originally based on a Carl Stephenson short story. A truly terrifying climax and a supple supporting acting turn from a less hefty William Conrad as the Commissioner are major pluses. A highlight is seeing Chris apply ointment to Joanna's skin so as to protect her from the ants, and another highlight is watching Chris violently douse his own plantation-made perfume on her. As I said, if you know what to expect, prepare to be entertained. As a sheerly high-pitched melodrama that they don't make any more, it works. Those seeking political correctness, stay far away (though Joanna is smarter than most of her 50's counterparts). Either way, watch out for those creepy fire ants that will make your skin crawl and itch.