Countess Zaleska has Risen

DRACULA'S DAUGHTER (1936)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

"Dracula's Daughter" is the fabulous and eerie sequel to Bela Lugosi's original "Dracula" film from 1931. This one has Countess Marya Zaleska (Gloria Holden) as the daughter of the infamous Count, who was staked to death by Professor Van Helsing (Edward Van Sloan, who for some reason is named Von Helsing in this film). Interestingly, Von Helsing is about to be arrested for murder so long as the body can be recovered. At the beginning of the film, Zaleska retrieves her father's body and burns her it to free herself from her vampiric tendencies. Of course, you can never keep a good vampire or good countess down for long since she continues to stalk and drain the blood of female victims in London. The Countess hypnotizes her victims with the use of her magical, glowing ring, and often succeeds. However, she doesn't want to continue with her deeds and requests the help of a psychiatrist! This must be the first vampire in the history of cinema to ever seek help for his/her condition. In 1945's "House of Dracula," John Carradine's Dracula sought the help of a doctor to cure him of his vampirism but it is rarely touched on in any vampire film.

The psychiatrist in this story is Dr. Jeffrey Garth (Otto Kruger), a former colleague of Dr. Van Helsing - he is entranced by her piercing eyes and wants to help her. Zaleska has another plan, however, and that is to get eternal life and bring Dr. Garth with her. Her assistant, Sandor (Irving Pichel), sees things differently since he was promised eternal life. Sandor's appearance is a devious combination of Karloff's character in "The Raven" and Lurch from "Addams Family."

Based on Bram Stoker's "Dracula's Guest," "Dracula's Daughter" was released back in 1936 and was the first vampire movie coming out of Universal Studios since the Lugosi original. Why it took so long since Lugosi's film was a box-office hit is not clear. This film is notable for the subliminal lesbian tendencies of Countess Zaleska and her cunning ability to lure her female victims to her lair (she does lure one male victim though). Consider the controversial, memorable sequence where Zaleska lures a blonde, petite female to her studio to model. All we see is the girl's face and shoulders, and once again she is startled by the Countess's eyes and ring.

"Dracula's Daughter" is a splendid film with some of the gloomiest and most elegiac black-and-white images I've ever seen in a Universal production or in any horror film for that matter (not counting 1922's "Nosferatu"). There are stark, foggy images of London and a town called Chelsea where evil awaits near bridges and bookstores, always at night. Gloria Holden is excellent as the Countess whom you sympathize with, even when she's undressing a female victim before biting her. Irving Pichel is impressively solid as Sandor, who assures the Countess that she will always be overcome by darkness. I also like the continuous bantering and arguing between Dr. Garth and his secretary, Janet (Marguerite Churchill), who always fixes his tuxedo tie. But it is Holden who walks away with the film, showing us a helpless vampire who wants to be consoled for her unfortunate habits. It was a model for Anne Rice's "Interview With a Vampire" in more ways than one.

An underrated film and a classy, sophisticated picture in a less than reputable genre, "Dracula's Daughter" is a definite classic.

The Monster demands a Mate

BRIDE OF FRANKENSTEIN (1935)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

1935's "The Bride of Frankenstein" remains one of the great horror films of all time. It is cheerful, dark, mysterious, comical, compelling and quite frightening at times. It is the sequel to 1931's "Frankenstein," which starred Boris Karloff, and is significantly superior in every aspect.

The opening prologue is set in 1816 with Elsa Lanchester as the lovely author of the "Frankenstein" novel, Mary Shelley, who tells her close admirers, Percy Shelley, her husband, and Lord Byron, "London's greatest sinner," how her story didn't really end. Thus, we get the sequel with the Monster (Karloff again) escaping from the burning windmill and wrecking vengeance on everything and everyone who crosses his path. He attacks village women, gypsies, peasants and so on. He encounters a blind old man in one of the most famous sequences in history as the old man teaches him the virtues of fire, smoking, music ("Ave Maria"), and how to speak. Of course, two men (one of them is played by John Carradine) find the Monster and try to kill him. The Monster escapes again and is caught by all the villagers, tied to a pole in crucifixion-style, and eventually chained in prison before escaping yet again.

Dr. Frankenstein (Colin Clive) managed to survive the fiery debacle of the original, and is all set to marry his sweet Elizabeth (Valerie Hobson, who was only 17 at the time) before being convinced to create a mate for the Monster by the evil Dr. Praetorius (Ernest Thesiger). Naturally, they create a mate with the help of a drooling assistant, Karl (Dwight Frye, in reportedly a combination of two roles) who memorably shrieks "It's a very fresh one" after killing a bystander on the street to get a fresh heart. The Monster finally has a new mate (Elsa Lanchester) who memorably shrieks herself and turns her head in jerky, robotic movements recalling Brigitte Helm in "Metropolis." The film ends with the fiery explosion of Praetorius's castle, and the good doctor and Elizabeth manage to escape and embrace in a happy ending devised to let the good doctor live.

"The Bride of Frankenstein" has some oddball moments although I can't say I know what era the film is set in. At one point, Dr. Praetorius lets Frankenstein communicate with Elizabeth through a voice transmission device! However, the villagers and every other citizen travel by horse and carriage, so is it set before the 1900's? And there's an abrupt finale where simply pulling a lever causes an explosion (this is how most mad scientist movies would end).

Still, "The Bride of Frankenstein" is a great film with some horrifying moments and some weirdly funny ones such as Dr. Praetorius's own creations which are life-like dolls in glass containers, including a smitten king, a ballerina, and a mermaid. "This is not science. This is black magic," says the dumbfounded Frankenstein. The scene is darkly comic yet there's something fundamentally horrific about it too - it shows a man who has gone at extreme lengths to give life to dead beings for his own pleasure, like Frankenstein himself. There are also several religious symbols throughout, especially during a quixotic moment when a crucifix shines brightly in the background while the blind man weeps after finding a companion in his home again. The entrance of the Bride towards the end is one of the loveliest sights in history as we see a ravishing beauty given life to please a monster whom she despises.

The performances are top-notch. Colin Clive is credibly and constantly uptight - he gets to yell the immortal line "She's alive! She's alive!" Ernest Thesiger plays the most evil villain in eons, and is unmatched in its baneful nature until Henry Fonda's cold killer in Once Upon a Time in the West. Thesiger has some delicious quips throughout and appears to be more frightening than the Monster itself. Karloff is given more to do this time as he's allowed to speak threateningly to Frankenstein, and even laugh! Elsa Lanchester is grandly beautiful and tremendously adept playing two roles: first as a delightful Mary Shelley in the wonderful prologue, and then in an extended cameo as the shrilly Bride with Nefertiti-shock hair and piercing eyes (if only screenwriters John L. Balderston and William Hurlbut gave her more to do). Also noteworthy is Una O'Connor who is hilarious as Frankenstein's maid servant, Minnie, who screams every time she sees the Monster - I love the way she utters "Dr. Praaeeetttorius!" when the doctor enters the house. Her role is quite similar to her equally delectable parts in "The Invisible Man" and "The Adventures of Robin Hood." Another small but significant role is the pompous burgomaster played by E.E. Clive with a big mustache - he was also cast in "The Invisible Man."

Other pluses in "Bride of Frankenstein" are the moody, evocative cinematography by John Mescall, including the justly famous graveyard scenes populated by fog and crucifixes; the creepy music score by Frank Waxman that is among the greatest ever composed for the silver screen and was used in many films since; and James Whale's fine direction and his extraordinary feel for the supernatural and the monstrous ironies in Shelley's text. There is simply not a better film about Frankenstein to see and, although it doesn't follow the novel too closely, this is among the finest and most visually spectacular Universal horror films ever made.

Nondescript freak of nature

THE INCREDIBLY STRANGE CREATURES WHO STOPPED LIVING AND BECAME MIXED-UP ZOMBIES!!? (1964)

So we have a carnival where the palm reader throws acid in your face, especially at pizza owners! The palm reader is Estrella (Brett O'Hara) and her assistant smokes cigars and looks uglier than Rondo Hatton! We have some older teenagers, possibly leftover extras from "Rebel Without a Cause" and one of whom is a foreigner, who enjoy going to this carnival quite possibly because there are showgirls on the order of Bettie Page who sing and striptease!

What we have here is a mess called "The Incredibly Strange Creatures Who Stopped Living and Became Mixed-Up Zombies," which is the most surreal, wacky and nonsensical movie I've seen in some time (complete with the wackiest title of all time). The lead role belongs to the director himself, Ray Dennis Steckler (also using the alias Cash Flagg), who plays Jerry, a teen troublemaker who like to frequent the carnival (who wouldn't with all those peep shows and bad comics?) It turns out that Estrella, the palm reader, has thrown acid on one customer after another and has kept them in some sort of underground dungeon. They aren't exactly zombies, just some angry customers I would imagine with largely disfigured heads. Jerry is hypnotized into killing people at Estrella's command - he goes around wearing a blue hooded sweatshirt and brandishing a knife. He bears an uncanny resemblance to Charles Whitman, the infamous rifleman who stood on top of the University of Texas and shot several students.

The reason this movie has achieved cult status is because it makes no sense and contains more musical numbers than suspense. The benefits are that it is technically proficient and astoundingly and superbly photographed, considering one of the cinematographers is Laszlo Kovacs (although a lot of scenes are badly staged).

Other than that, it is quite a strange experience that can't be put in any real category. Not quite horror, not quite a suspense film, and not much of anything else other than a colorful blend of gaudy music numbers and some loose serial-killer subplot. There is an erratic energy to it that keeps you glued to the screen - it is a freak of nature. Describing what it is all about is another story.

A two-fisted, pistol packin' Ronald Reagan

LAW AND ORDER (1953)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

When I think back to Ronald Reagan, the actor, I think of "Bedtime for Bonzo" and "Knute Rockne." I tend to forget he was in some westerns and that, overall, he was quite the lawman (and an adept horse rider) in "Law and Order," a two-fisted, colorful, highly romanticized and thoroughly exciting western. It is the top-of-the-line western for those who believe that heroes were once heroes, and the villains were easy to pick out from a lineup.

This remake of a 1932 film of the same name takes the same idea of Tombstone and the Wyatt Earp legend and, basically, changes the names and settings. Frame Johnson (Ronald Reagan) is the retired marshal who wants to own a ranch and live with his dynamic girlfriend and saloon owner, Jeannie (Dorothy Malone), in a new town called Cottonwood. Of course, easier said than done when there are some old scores to settle. Mr. Johnson had been rumored to have amassed a high body count in his day, and many want to see if it is true (though he rather bring a man to justice than shoot him). Mr. Kurt Durling (Preston Foster) lost his hand in a gun battle with Frame and wants no part of this man in his town, which he practically runs. The judge wants Frame to be sheriff and Frame is quite reluctant, so Lute Johnson (Alex Nicol), Frame's brother, becomes sheriff. And all hell breaks loose in typical Technicolor western fashion, replete with exciting shoot-outs and very well-choreographed fistfights.

Reagan has a tough sincerity that is refreshing for this Wyatt Earp revision, and he has the dynamite presence of those red-blushed cheeks of Dorothy Malone to smile at often. The Durlings (including a young Dennis Weaver) are properly villainous to the nth degree, and the settings and locales are authentic. In short, "Law and Order" is not a great movie nor is it among the twenty-five best films the western genre has to offer. But as a Saturday matinee on a rainy day, it will do just fine.

Preacher, gunslinger, classic Glenn Ford

HEAVEN WITH A GUN (1969)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

Gunslinger: 'I am burying a man.'

Cowpoke:    'That's a sheepherder.'

Gunslinger: 'I know.'

This small dialogue exchange is the opening sequence of "Heaven With a Gun," a strange western that somehow manages to work even if it shouldn't. The parts of the film do not make a cohesive whole but they do make a watchable film, if nothing else.

"Heaven With a Gun" stars Glenn Ford as the gunslinger in that sequence, a man named Jim Killian who certainly doesn't like to see sheepherders, particularly Hopi Indian sheepherders, hanged. Nonetheless, after burying the man and forcing two cattle cowpokes to make wave, Jim arrives in the town Vinegaroon, populated by the usual kinds of characters such as drunk cowboys, genial storekeepers, loose prostitutes who demand prompt payment for their duties, and so on. And, as always, there is a poker game involving high stakes with the former cowpokes Jim had confronted earlier. One of them is Coke (David Carradine), "the wild mustang," who is ready to kill Jim. And we get the obligatory scene of an impending act of violence at a poker table interrupted by the owner of the saloon/bar (known as the "Road to Ruin"). In this case, it is a breath of fresh air named Madge (the fabulous Carolyn Jones), who knows Jim from the past.

Jim's intention is to start a church in town called "The Mission Church of the Good Shepherd." That's right, he is not only a gunslinger, he is a preacher! He is heaven with a gun, similar to the character Eastwood would later play in "Pale Rider." He hopes to bring faith and communion into the town, and also hopes that the sheepherders and the cattle herders will agree that both animals can graze on the same range. Naturally, Jim's plan is met with plenty of disapproval from the cattle herders, including the grizzly Asa Peck (John Anderson). And there are also other obstacles, such as a Hopi woman named Leloopa (an unrecognizable Barbara Hershey), who wants to cook and clean for Jim since he buried her father. And perhaps Madge is a little jealous of this woman, considering that she thinks Jim is the man for her.

"Heaven With a Gun" does have its flaws. The introduction of a man named Mace (J.D. Cannon) who served prison time with Jim simply marks time - the character is evil yet has charisma and yet you wish there was more of him. Also there is a rape scene in the film that also feels extraneous, not to mention a near scalping of another character. The violence is so heavy and the sheepherders are so clearly without redeeming value that you wish there was something more than the ending that is given. It all feels anticlimactic but I will say this - it is a rare kind of ending for a western and must have been placed there because of the pacifist times in which it was made.

On the plus side, Glenn Ford is in fine form, exuding toughness, sweetness and a tinge of humor - he also makes the character of Jim soulful and forgiving. Ford's scenes with the lovely Carolyn Jones are wonderful if short-lived. I also like Barbara Hershey, despite the fact she looks too pristine to be a Hopi Indian (check out those sparkling white teeth!) Scenes of a barn being turned into a church and a nude woman sitting outside a house are rarities in this genre, not to mention the ending. "Heaven With a Gun" is fine, two-fisted entertainment but it does ring a little hollow. Nonetheless, the cast makes it as close to heaven as a western could ever be.

Kubrickian Path to War

PATHS OF GLORY (1957)

Reviewed by Jerry Saravia

"Paths of Glory" is one of the greatest war films ever made, an indictment on war and the complex morality behind the decisions made in trench warfare. What helps make it so complex and involving in every scene is the direction by Stanley Kubrick and the exquisitely precise and multilayered screenplay by Kubrick, Calder Willingham and Jim Thompson.

Set in France in 1916, the film begins with the arrival of General Broulard (Adolphe Menjou) at a French chateau where he meets with General Mireau (George Macready) to discuss the golden opportunity of taking the "Ant Hill," a no man's land held by the Germans. The notion is that if Mireau takes the command, he may be promoted and it is also an event for the media to focus on. Mireau, the determined optimist, immediately tells Colonel Dax (Kirk Douglas) of the news, much to Dax's dismay. Dax defends his position by quoting from Samuel Johnson ("patriotism is the last refuge of a scoundrel") and feeling his men are not up to the task so soon. Accompanying Broulard is Major Saint-Auban (Richard Anderson, best known for his role in "The Six Million Dollar Man" TV show) who refers to the soldiers as having a herd instinct, or stated as "an animal sort of thing." Dax corrects the major, reminding him they are human after all. Nevertheless, Dax is convinced of taking the "Ant Hill," perhaps in fear he will be rep laced by someone who will not take proper care of his men. Thus the colonel tells his men that they must be prepared to attack, though the fact that the weather will be clear and sunny as opposed to foggy and cloudy establishes this battle as a losing proposition.

"Paths of Glory" has two scenes of battle, one quiet and serene and the other noisy and confusing. The first scene is of a patrol organized to navigate no man's land. They include the alcoholic Lieutenant Roget (Wayne Morris), Corporal Paris (Ralph Meeker) and Private Lejeune (Ken Dibbs). The area is already littered with shell holes, corpses, lots of wire and rubble. Lejeune is inadvertently killed by Lieutenant Roget, the first accused of "cowardice in the face of the enemy" by Corporal Paris.

The other battle is of course the taking of Ant Hill, which becomes a haelstorm of explosions and bullets in and around the trenches. The men fear getting too close to the German wire because of the intensity of the explosions, and are almost killed by General Mireau who is infuriated that they would stay in the trenches to avoid enemy fire. Three soldiers under Dax's command are arbitrarily chosen to be court-martialed and face execution for "cowardice in the face of the enemy." One of them is Corporal Paris, who is ironically picked by Lieutenant Roget.

"Paths of Glory" follows the trial leading to the execution, seen as justice for men who refused to fight, and Kubrick and the writers Willingham and Thompson ask tough questions with little in the way of a clear-cut resolution. Should these men be executed for acting cowardly and not advancing in no man's land? Is General Mireau any less guilty for almost having his men killed by their own troops for not advancing? At one point, Colonel Dax even asks to be set as an example for his men by being executed, but is instead left as a defense lawyer for the three charged men in the court martial proceedings. What Kubrick shows, and what has become a staple of his later work, is that the powerful men at the top, namely General Broulard and General Mireau, see these soldiers as nothing more than animals and treat them as such, stating that if the enemy fire was so intense, the result would have been corpses littered around the trenches, not cowards. Ironically, during the penultimate final scene in the chateau, General Mireau reminds Broulard that the man he stabs in the back is a soldier. The inhumanity and lack of sympathy is powerfully shown in Kubrick's treatise on war, and lead the way to many more ambiguous moral lessons in human behavior in films such as "Dr. Strangelove" and especially "A Clockwork Orange."

Based on the 1935 World War I novel by Humphrey Cobb, "Paths of Glory" is emotionally wrenching and thrillingly realized. Every sequence is masterfully composed and framed, including the dolly shots through the trenches where Dax and General Broulard frequently travel while explosions are heard in the background. The court martial sequence in the chateau is as tense and nail-biting as the execution itself.

The dialogue is also crisp and direct. I loved the conversations between Broulard, Mireau and Dax in the chateau, a setting for a different kind of battleground where words and strategies are exchanged in reference to the lives of the soldiers. Backstabbing and political ambition are primary goals, though Dax is an idealist - he cares for his men and says or does nothing as a means of promotion from his rank. The higher-ups are of different mindsets, and it is extraordinary to watch Kirk Douglas's blunt, sympathetic Dax, Adolphe Menjou's arrogant, pitiless General Broulard, and the cold, remorseless General Mireau brilliantly portrayed by George Macready commingle and argue over the reality of war's traumas and heartaches.

"Paths of Glory" is a tough, demanding work that generated a lot of controversy over its cynical presentation of how men of power handle their own men in the face of war. But there is beauty too, as evidently shown in the final shot where a German farm girl (Suzanne Christian, who became Mrs. Kubrick at that time) sings a sentimental song from the "Musical Memories of Germany" and causes the audience of soldiers to weep when they were initially jeering her. I also like what could be a throwaway moment where Private Arnaud (Joseph Turkel, who later appeared in "The Shining") describes how being shot down and killed instantly is preferable to being wounded. There is humanity in these men, these soldiers who fight in the trenches for the benefit of pleasing some higher-ranking officials and, of course, to win the war. Here is an anti-war film that sticks to its guns and shows, in the words of Ernest Hemingway, that war is a crime no matter how justified.

Matt Helm entry needs a wrecking ball

THE WRECKING CREW (1968)

Reviewed By Jerry Saravia

The Wrenchingly Awful Crew. This last Matt Helm entry is such a stilted, forced, bland and stupendously awful film that I am surprised it was even released in theatres. Dean Martin is the superspy but he seems so indifferent to the chaos of the story (something to do with the movement of gold bars) that, well, you kinda wish Dino would've passed on this and sang more songs with the Rat Pack at the Stardust.

The whole movie is meant to be a joke, a parody of James Bond, if only the cast was in on the joke. The late Sharon Tate is one of many women that bed Matt Helm, though she seems uncomfortable playing a supposed klutz of a spy. Nigel Green is the bad guy, though he seems almost as indifferent as everyone else in the movie. The fight scenes are idiotic (sorry Mr. Bruce Lee but the staging is flat), the sophisticated weapons include nothing more than a black sock that is hurled at Green's minions, a film camera that emits green fog (!), a briefcase that contains the parts to assemble a helicopter, and so on. To top it off, some of Dino's songs are heard at the oddest moments, ostensibly more of an intrusion than a helping hand to advance the nonexistent plot.

One curious note: I know this movie is a joke but I am curious about Green's sophisticated surveillance. He is in a control room in his house where he has a camera in every part of his estate, including areas where cameras couldn't possibly exist. For example, he keeps an eye on a train that contains the gold and can view it through his various monitors from many different angles, including several aerial shots, medium shots on the sides of the trains, etc. How does he get the aerial shots if he has no helicopters keeping track of the train? How come the boxcars don't seem to have any cameras attached to them? That's about the only humorous gag I can think of for this sad piece of horse dung known as "The Wrecking Crew."