MonsterGirl’s 150 Days of Classic Horror #13 Before I Hang (1940) / The Man They Could Not Hang (1939)

MonsterGirl’s 150 Days of Classic Horror!

BEFORE I HANG 1940

This medical science gone wrong horror thriller directed by Nick Grinde stars the incomparable Boris Karloff, who plays the kindly and sympathetic character of Dr. John Garth, a physician seeking a serum that will fend off the aging process. Garth is placed on death row for conducting a mercy killing but is permitted to pursue his experiments with his serum on the other inmates’ blood while secretly testing it on himself. His colleague, Dr. Ralph Howard (Edward Van Sloan), helps with his research. Dracula, Frankenstein, The Mummy, Dracula’s Daughter 1936). They inject Garth with the experimental serum taken from one of the executed murderers, a man who was criminally insane. Though Garth murders his colleague and a prison trustee, he manages to fool them into giving him a pardon for his work as a humanitarian. Dr. Garth emerges as a Jekyll and Hyde personality, becoming a homicidal killer. One of the best early chillers utilizing the very morbid yet enthralling idea that blood has its own consciousness. This concept will be used in films later on down the road, acting on the same premise that the human body, blood tissue, and bone retain the memory of the criminal whose body they belonged to—pulsing with a life force unique to that singular identity.

B-movie queen Evelyn Keyes plays Garth’s daughter Martha. Don Beddoe is Capt. McGraw and Bruce Bennett (Mildred Pierce 1945 Dark Passage 1947) plays Dr. Paul Ames.

THE MAN THEY COULD NOT HANG 1939

Boris Karloff is Dr. Henryk Savaard, a scientist working in the field of medicine who is searching for a means to prolong life. His experiments employ a mechanical heart to revive his subjects after they’ve been pronounced technically dead. Medical student Bob Roberts (Stanley Brown) volunteers to be the first subject of Dr. Savaard’s experiment. Savaard’s nurse, Betty Crawford (Ann Doran) Penny Serenade 1941, The Strange Love of Martha Ivers 1946), is frantic about her boyfriend Bob submitting to this and calls the police. They arrest Dr. Savaard for killing his assistant, and he goes to trial.

Dr. Savaard tries desperately to explain his altruistic intentions to the jury, but he is found guilty and sentenced to hang. Savaard has instructed his assistant Lang (Byron Foulger) to bring him back from the dead using his methods with the mechanical heart. Soon after, mysteriously, six members of the jury who have convicted Dr. Savaard wind up committing suicide by hanging themselves. The other six jurors, the judge, prosecutor, police inspector, and nurse Crawford are invited to Savaard’s house so that he can exact his revenge!

Lorna Gray plays Savaard’s daughter, Janet; Charles Trowbridge plays Judge Bowman; and Don Beddoe plays Police Lt. Shane—one of Karloff’s great sympathetic scientist thrillers with wonderful atmospherics in this other Nick Grinde B-movie classic.

13 down, just 137 more to go!- You EverLovin Joey formally & affectionately known as MonsterGirl!

MonsterGirl’s 150 Days of Classic Horror #12 Bedlam (1946) & The Body Snatcher (1945)

MonsterGirl’s 150 Days of Classic Horror!

BEDLAM (1946)

A Symphony of Dark Patches- The Val Lewton Legacy 1943

bedlam

Bedlam 1946 is Val Lewton’s visually haunting condemnation of mental asylums. Mark Robson directs Boris Karloff in perhaps one of his most vicious roles as the sadistic Master George Sims. Challenged by Mistress Bowen (Anna Lee) for his cruelty and inhumane treatment of the inmates, Sims orchestrates her confinement to Bedlam as she tries to reform the horrible conditions of the place. Stunning and brutal, Bedlam is the most savage story in the Lewton canon. It is a wonderful appearance by character actor Ian Wolfe, who always brings a bit of perspicacity to any film.

Boris Karloff’s performance in Bedlam (1946) is a masterclass in chilling restraint and psychological menace. In my opinion, it is perhaps among his finest and most complex screen creations. As Master George Sims, Karloff trades the Gothic excesses of his more famous monsters for a quiet, brooding authority, a malevolent figure who rules the asylum with wit as sharp as his cruelty, a presence simultaneously polite and terrifying. This is highlighted in the infamous “gilded boy” dinner party, as he expresses glee and a vicious delight, striking not simply for its horror but for the way Karloff infuses Sims with chilling plausibility and hints of perverse enjoyment.

What’s mesmerizing is how Boris Karloff channels both icy calculation and flashes of wry, almost courtly charm, rendering Sims a portrait of domesticated evil by candlelight, an administrator whose sinister schemes and subtle tyranny keep the film taut with dread. Even in the climactic reversal, when the inmates turn on their tormentor, there’s an uneasy pathos to Karloff’s final moments: his gaze flickers between defiance and abject horror as retribution literally walls him in. Karloff’s turn in Bedlam is truly villainous, rather than merely misunderstood, where he transcends archetype to deliver a performance that feels eerily real, haunted, human, and disturbingly close to home. His performance feels uncomfortably familiar or relevant, resonating on a personal or societal level rather than as a distant, purely fictional level of horror. It’s not theatrics but the haunted precision of his gestures and long, deliberate silences that define the role, and elevate Bedlam itself above mere historical horror into something genuinely unsettling.

Bedlam (1946), as one of Val Lewton’s extraordinary visually poetic psychological horror films in his collection for RKO Pictures, is perhaps one of his darkest poems. Val Lewton, known for his stylish horror B-films, co-wrote the screenplay under the pseudonym Carlos Keith, maintaining his approach to horror with a focus on psychological tension and suggestive shadows rather than overt supernatural elements.

The film, which would be the last collaboration with Boris Karloff and his final film for RKO, with the great actor commanding the screen with a deranged subtlety as Master George Sims, the cruel apothecary general of St. Mary’s of Bethlehem Asylum, and Anna Lee as Nell Bowen, a spirited reformer who seeks to improve the conditions for the asylum’s inmates, and the mistreatment of mental health patients in the 18th century.

Set in 1761 London, the film was inspired by William Hogarth’s painting series “A Rake’s Progress,” with Hogarth receiving a writing credit. The story follows Nell Bowen’s efforts to reform the notorious asylum, leading to her own commitment by the sadistic Sims.

Bedlam features several dramatic scenes that highlight the cruelty of the asylum and the tension between Nell Bowen and Master Sims. One of the most shocking scenes involves the “gilded boy,” where a young inmate painted in toxic gold performs for Lord Mortimer’s (Billy House) party, only to collapse and die from the poisonous paint while the callous partygoers and wealthy patrons revel in the spectacle of the poor boy’s suffering. This scene vividly illustrates the callousness of Sims and wealthy patrons toward the inmates’ dire struggles.

The cinematography by Nicholas Musuraca contributes significantly to the film’s atmospheric quality, employing chiaroscuro lighting techniques typical of Lewton productions. The set design, utilizing the church set from The Bells of St. Mary’s (1945), adds to the film’s gothic ambiance.

THE BODY SNATCHER 1945

The Body Snatcher (1945) is a chilling horror film directed by Robert Wise and produced by Val Lewton, set in 1831 Edinburgh. Karloff gives a tour de force, nuanced performance as John Gray, a sinister cabman who moonlights as a grave robber and murderer.

The film also features the sophisticated Henry Daniell with his concrete, chiseled, austere face as Dr. MacFarlane, a physician tormented by his past and Gray’s machinations to make money any way he can. Beloved Bela Lugosi appears in the film as Joseph, a blackmailing servant, and has a notably small role, marking the last on-screen collaboration between the two horror legends.

The story, based on Robert Louis Stevenson’s work, follows Gray’s increasingly disturbing methods of procuring cadavers for Dr. MacFarlane’s medical school, leading to a psychological battle between the two men that culminates in a haunting climax.

Boris Karloff’s performance as John Gray in The Body Snatcher (1945) is a haunting embodiment of malevolent cunning and psychological depth. Karloff crafts Gray not as a mere villain but as a complex figure: a grave robber and occasional murderer who carries himself with a sinister charm that both fascinates and unsettles us to the core. His portrayal balances menace with a sly, almost sardonic humor, making Karloff’s Gray a character whose presence dominates every scene he inhabits without ever falling into caricature.

Karloff masterfully reveals the creeping rot of guilt and amorality beneath Gray’s calculated exterior. His physicality, the gaunt makeup paired with his piercing, icy stare, heightens the sense of impending doom that accompanies his every stalking move. Much like Bedlam, it’s a blend of cruelty and charisma, underscored by sudden bursts of violence that shock precisely because they feel disturbingly real and not exaggerated.

The performance benefits from Karloff’s ability to convey layered motivations; Gray oscillates between ruthless pragmatism and an eerie, almost perverse delight in his grim trade. Karloff’s Gray is not just a dark presence but a pivotal force that personifies the film’s exploration of moral decay and desperation amid the grim conditions of early 19th-century Edinburgh.

Ultimately, it’s not hard to see that Karloff’s Gray is a magnificent study in villainy, one that is chilling because it feels organic, something that Boris Karloff is a master at cultivating, crafted with a precision that transforms a simple tale of grave robbing into a psychological thriller with a lingering emotional punch. It’s a performance that showcases Karloff’s range beyond his iconic monsters, marking The Body Snatcher as one of the dark gems in his storied career.

Some key scenes include the murder of the young street singer, which highlights Gray’s ruthlessness. Gray’s tormenting of Dr. MacFarlane in the pub, revealing their complex history, and the chilling carriage ride finale, where MacFarlane hallucinates Gray’s corpse coming to life. Robert Wise’s direction and Lewton’s emphasis on the pyshcological terror rather than explicit horror fix this in his legacy as a stunning masterpiece, a film that explores the ethical dilemma faced by medical schools in the 1830s when legal cadavers were scarce. This shortage led to a grim trade in illegally obtained bodies by graverobbing, blurring the lines between scientific progress and criminal activity. The story draws inspiration from the real-life Burke and Hare murders of 1828, which also adds a layer of authenticity to the narrative.

#12 down, only 138 to go! Your EverLovin’ Joey, formally & affectionately known as MonsterGirl!

A Trailer a Day Keeps the Boogeyman Away! Halloween A-Z

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The Raven 1935

Dr. Vollin ‘Your monstrous ugliness breeds monstrous hatred. Good! I can use your hate.'

The Raven is a 1935 classical American horror film directed by Lew Landers, and it features two iconic horror actors, Bela Lugosi and Boris Karloff, in starring roles. This would be the second film that featured the pairing of both great horror stars after the success of The Black Cat. Along with its Gothic atmosphere and Poe-inspired storyline, it is a memorable entry in their respective filmographies. Read my feature on The Black Cat HERE:

Vollin ”Death is my talisman!

Dr. Richard Vollin (Bela Lugosi) is a brilliant but eccentric surgeon with a morbid fascination for Edgar Allan Poe’s works, particularly “The Raven.” Vollin is also known for his expertise in plastic surgery and a questionable reputation for performing radical procedures.

Judge Thatcher “I’ll pay you any amount of money, Dr. Vollin'’
Dr Vollin “Money means nothing to me."
Judge Thatcher “But someone is dying! Your obligation as a member of the medical profession"
Vollin “I respect no such obligation. I am a law unto myself!'’
Thatcher “But you have no human feeling? My daughter is dying!'’
Vollin “Death hasn’t the same significance for me as it has for you.”

Lugosi as Dr. Richard Vollin is a complex character who is both brilliant and deeply disturbed. Lugosi’s portrayal captures the character’s descent into madness and obsession. Vollin’s fascination with Poe’s works is conveyed through Lugosi’s mesmerizing, sinister, and theatrical performance.

When a young woman named Jean Thatcher (Irene Ware) is critically injured in a car accident, her desperate father seeks out Dr. Vollin’s assistance to save her life. Vollin agrees to perform intricate neurosurgery, but his growing obsession with Jean veers off into a deadly obsession. As Vollin’s obsession with Jean Thatcher grows, Lugosi skillfully portrays the doctor’s psychological unraveling. His fixation on Jean is palpable, and Lugosi’s performance is marked by dramatic facial expressions and body language that highlight Vollin’s increasing mania. This doesn’t bode well for her father, Judge Thatcher {Samuel S. Hinds}, and her fiancé, Dr. Jerry Holden (Lester Matthews).

Meanwhile, Edmond Bateman (Boris Karloff), a criminal mastermind who seeks to change his appearance to evade the authorities, approaches Vollin for his surgical skills. Vollin agrees but insists that Bateman becomes his loyal servant in return. Edmond Bateman is a criminal mastermind who seeks to change his appearance through plastic surgery. Batman becomes a  victim of Dr. Vollin’s monstrous cruelty and becomes a sympathetic character despite his criminal past. Throughout the film, Bateman’s loyalty to Dr. Vollin is only through necessity, even as he undergoes a shocking transformation, horribly disfigured at the hands of Vollin’s knife, and depends on Vollin to restore his face.

A standout moment in the picture is when Lugosi peers through the door and watches Karloff with sadistic orgasmic glee as the poor man discovers the horrors that Vollin has inflicted on him,  as the image of his face in a myriad of mirrors stares back in fright. During the gallery of mirrors reveals, when Bateman yells “NO!” that is not Boris Karloff's voice but a post-production dub-over.

Bateman ‘‘I’m saying, Doc, maybe because I look ugly… maybe if a man looks ugly, he does ugly things.'’
Vollin ‘‘You are saying something profound.”

As Vollin’s infatuation with Jean deepens and his madness takes a darker turn, he uses his surgical talents to transform Bateman into a grotesque visage resembling a raven, reminiscent of Poe’s poem. The doctor’s sinister plans culminate in a chilling and macabre climax, with Poe’s themes of obsession, madness, and revenge at the forefront as Lugosi employs his Poe recreations of the instruments of torture.

In the film’s denouement – it all gets wrapped up with Karloff’s twisted visage & sympathetic grotesqueness as he endeavors to end the deadly pendulum that comes a whisker away from Irene’s father getting sliced in half, as he shuts off the mechanism and saves his life. Lugosi shoots Karloff for rebelling and proceeds to trap his prisoners in a claustrophobic chamber with its walls triggered to close in and crush them. At this point, he is stark raving mad – as his maniacal amusement fills his gallery of torture. Yet Karloff takes his last breath and frees the prisoners, instead leaving Lugosi in the chamber to be milled instead.

Belu Lugosi and Boris Karloff’s performances in “The Raven” showcase their abilities to bring nuance and depth to their characters in the horror genre. Lugosi’s theatricality and intensity complement Karloff’s subtler and more sympathetic portrayal, resulting in a memorable and chilling cinematic experience. Their on-screen chemistry adds to the film’s enduring status as a classic of 1930s horror cinema.

For the B.B.F.C, The Raven was the final straw. The British film censors decided to withdraw any further horror movies from being shown in the U.K.

Return of the Vampire 1943

Return of the Vampire is a 1944 American horror film directed by Lew Landers. The movie features Bela Lugosi in a role reminiscent of his iconic portrayal of Dracula.

Set in London during World War II, the story revolves around the resurrection of a malevolent vampire named Armand Tesla (Bela Lugosi). Tesla had been destroyed by Professor Walter Saunders (Gilbert Emery) years earlier, but a bomb during an air raid accidentally uncovers his tomb, allowing him to return to life.

With the help of his loyal werewolf servant Andreas Obry (Matt Willis), Tesla resumes his reign of terror. He seeks revenge against those who thwarted him in the past and sets his sights on a young girl named Nicki Saunders (Nina Foch), the granddaughter of Professor Saunders.

Determined to stop Tesla once and for all, Professor Saunders enlists the assistance of a fellow scientist, Lady Jane Ainsley (Frieda Inescort), and a vampire expert, Sir Frederick Fleet (Miles Mander). Together, they confront the resurrected vampire and his supernatural powers in a battle between good and evil.

Rodan 1956

Rodan, also known as “Sora no DaikaijÅ« Radon” in Japan, is a 1956 Japanese science fiction kaiju film directed by Ishirō Honda. The movie features one of Toho Studios’ iconic giant monsters and is a classic of the kaiju genre.

Synopsis: The story is set in the mining town of Kitamatsu, Japan, where a series of mysterious and deadly events begin to unfold. Miners are disappearing deep underground, and strange fossils are discovered in the depths of the mine.

As the investigation into these anomalies deepens, it becomes evident that a prehistoric creature, a monstrous pterosaur known as Rodan, has been awakened from its long slumber by underground nuclear testing. Rodan, with its supersonic flying ability and deadly strength, emerges as a catastrophic threat. As the military and scientists race to confront the colossal menace, Rodan’s destructive power becomes apparent. The creature’s rampage and aerial attacks on cities lead to widespread devastation and loss of life.

The Reptile 1966

The Reptile is a 1966 British horror film produced by Hammer Film Productions, with a folklorist and Gothic flair. The movie combines elements of Gothic horror and mystery directed by John Gilling and written by Anthony Hinds.

The story is set in the remote village of Clagmoor Heath in Cornwall, England. Newlyweds Harry Spalding (Ray Barrett) and his wife Valerie (Jennifer Daniel) move into a cottage previously owned by Harry’s late brother, Charles.

Strange and unsettling events begin to occur in the village, including a series of mysterious deaths. The local doctor, Dr. Franklyn (Noel Willman), is secretive about the cause of these deaths, and the villagers are filled with fear and suspicion.

As Harry and Valerie investigate the sinister occurrences, they discover that a deadly and supernatural secret haunts the village. A curse transforms one of the villagers into a reptilian creature, a half-human, half-snake entity, and this monstrous creature is responsible for the deaths.

The Spaldings must uncover the truth behind the curse and confront the malevolent force behind it before they too become victims of the reptilian terror that stalks Clagmoor Heath.

This is you EverLovin’ Joey Sayin’ Rrrrrrrgghhh!!! don’t look behind you, I think it’s the letter Ssssss!

A Trailer a Day Keeps the Boogeyman Away! Halloween A-Z

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The Ghoul 1933

The Ghoul is a 1933 British horror film directed by T. Hayes Hunter and starring Boris Karloff who appears in the first and the last two reels, along with co-stars Sir Cedric Hardwicke, Ralph Richardson, Ernest Thesiger and Dorothy Hyson as Morlant’s niece Betty. The picture is considered one of the most ‘elusive’ of the lost horror films because it had not been seen until 1969 since its original release in 1933. There now exists a ‘tattered’ yet welcomed print (the negative had decomposed) owned by the Rank Organization, discovered in an East European archive and sent to The Theodore Huff Memorial Film Society. Karloff considered this film to be worthy of remembrance and had been heard saying that he hoped it would stay lost. (source: William K. Everson)

The film follows the story of Professor Henry Morlant (a very grotesque role for Boris Karloff), a rich eccentric and an Egyptologist who dabbles in the occult and is obsessed with the idea of immortality. Before his death, Morlant arranges for his body to be buried with a valuable ancient Egyptian jewel known as “The Eternal Light”, that will bring about his resurrection and be granted eternal life by the Egyptian God Anubis.

Upon Morlant’s death, a group of individuals, including his lawyer, a relative, and other acquaintances, gather at his estate to attend his funeral. Morlant is interred in low light given off by the glowing torches during a dreary, morbid ceremony. It is after this that the vultures swoop down for the reading of his will which includes the rightful heirs to his estate, a greedy lawyer, and a sinister collection of Oxford-educated Egyptians who seek to repossess the jewel. There are enough suspicious characters and villains to go around.

However, they soon discover that Morlant’s body has mysteriously disappeared, and they become embroiled in a series of eerie and supernatural events. As they search for the missing jewel, they are haunted by Morlant’s restless spirit, a ‘ghoulish’ version of the man who has returned from the dead, stalking his old house in search of the Eternal Light to achieve immortality. Driven by his unholy desires, unhinged by the end of his life, now a monstrous evil spirit he nearly strangles his niece Betty whom he adored in life.

In a grim ending, Morlant reclaims his jewel and offers himself to the God Anubis, carving sacrificial sacred symbols into his chest, and now can find his final rest after he has had his wishes fulfilled when the statue comes to life and accepts his gift.

The Ghost Breakers 1940

The Ghost Breakers is a 1940 comedy-horror film directed by George Marshall and starring Bob Hope and Paulette Goddard in the lead roles. The film combines elements of comedy, mystery, and the supernatural to create an entertaining and light-hearted story about a radio broadcaster, his trembling butler, and an heiress investigating the mystery of a haunted castle in Cuba.

The film follows the adventures of Larry Lawrence (played by Bob Hope), a radio personality and skeptic, who finds himself embroiled in a series of comedic and spooky events. After mistakenly believing he’s committed a murder, Larry flees to Cuba with his loyal butler, Alex (played by Willie Best), to escape the authorities.

In Cuba, Larry and Alex end up staying at a seemingly haunted mansion owned by Mary Carter (played by Paulette Goddard). Mary believes her family’s ancestral home is cursed and haunted by ghosts. Larry, always the skeptic, begins to investigate and uncover the secrets of the mansion, leading to a series of comedic encounters with supernatural phenomena.

As the plot unfolds, Larry and Mary join forces to unravel the mysteries surrounding the haunted mansion, including hidden treasure and a ghostly pirate curse. The Ghost Breakers is known for its witty humor, playful banter between Bob Hope and Paulette Goddard, and its blend of comedy and spooky elements, making it one of the most enjoyable classics in the comedy-horror genre.

The Giant Claw 1957

The Giant Claw shot over the course of two weeks is a 1957 science fiction film directed by Fred F. Sears (who also has 77 acting roles to his credits – was responsible for other cheapies including exploitation and westerns  – The Night the World Explodes 1957, the very sublime The Werewolf 1956, and the fabulous Earth vs. the Flying Saucers 1956 that featured the work of Ray Harryhausen.) The film revolves around the appearance of a gigantic and mysterious flying creature that threatens the world. Samuel Newman and Paul Gangelin’s script adhered to the classic and well-established narrative of the ‘giant creature-on-the-loose.’ Both Morrow and Corday wind up investigating a series of strange phenomena, including the destruction of military aircraft. As they dig deeper into the mystery, they discover that a massive bird-like creature, resembling a giant prehistoric vulture, is responsible for the destruction.

See Keep Watching the Skies featuring Earth vs. the Flying Saucers Here:

Jeff Morrow plays Radar test pilot Mitch Macafee whose discovery of an unidentified flying object (UFO) initially met with widespread skepticism. Most people doubted his account, dismissing it as a mere fantasy. However, doubt turned to alarm when a fighter jet mysteriously disappeared without a trace. The authorities and officials could no longer afford to disregard Macafee’s story as mere conjecture, especially as other planes and boats fell victim to unexplained attacks.

Of course, he has a hard time convincing anyone that he saw what he saw.MacAfee’s love interest is 1950’s scream queen heroine Mara Corday as Sally Caldwell. Mitch and Sally, along with the military, must find a way to stop this colossal menace before it can cause more destruction and chaos. Along for the ride is science fiction’s stalwart military/police/scientist-actor Morris Ankrum as Lt. Gen. Edward Considine.

See my tribute to Queen B’s of 1950s sci-fi & horror: Mara Corday Here:

Eventually, its existence can’t be denied when it flies off with a train filled with passengers dangling from its beak. The authorities warn everyone to stay indoors, but a carload of rebellious teenagers don’t listen and get eaten in their car like a can of unopened sardines. The problem is, that the giant claw is undetectable by radar because somehow, The enormous bird, defies the laws of physics. This monstrous bird possesses its own antimatter shied which also makes it indestructible. And its goal is to lay its eggs here on earth. So one could say that this creature is both an ancient god and extraterrestrial? When Morrow shoots up the Claw’s eggs there begins a personal grudge against him, who then must work around the clock to find a way to pierce the thing’s antimatter shield. Once the Giant Claw is shot down it disappears into the ocean and that’s the last we see of it.

The Giant Claw is known for its campy special effects, including the rather comical appearance of the titular creature, and has gained a cult following among fans of classic B-movies.

It has been reported that the marionette of the “Giant Claw” monster, made by a model-maker in Mexico City, cost producer Sam Katzman a mere $50./blockquote>

The lead actor, Jeff Morrow, confessed in an interview that no one who had worked on the film knew what the giant bird creature actually looked like until the premiere.

He watched the film in its entirety for the first time in his hometown."ƒHearing the audience laugh each time the monster appeared on-screen caused him to slip out early, embarrassed anyone might recognize him.

The Gorgon 1964

She Turns Screaming Flesh Into Silent Stone!

Read Brides of Horror 1960s tribute to Barbara Shelley Here:

The Gorgon is a 1964 British horror film produced by Hammer Film Productions, known for its classic horror productions. Directed by Terence Fisher (Curse of Frankenstein, Horror of Dracula, and The Mummy), and a story by writer J. Llewellyn Devine and screenplay by John Gilling (Plague of the Zombies 1966 and Blood Beast from Outer Space 1955) the film blends elements of mythology, suspense, and gothic horror that features gorgeous strokes of a lush color palate with art direction by Don Mingaye and cinematography by Michael Reed.

Co-writer Gillina told Little Shop of Horrors magazine, “was a writing assignment from Hammer that I considered one of my best screenplays…” but according to him, Anthony Hinds ”re-wrote the opening and changed much of the dialogue.” Ultimately this damaged the script and the film.

Set in a remote German village in the 19th century, the story revolves around a series of gruesome murders that have plagued the community. Each victim has been turned to stone, and the villagers are living in fear of a mysterious and deadly creature.

Local physician Dr. Namaroff (played by Peter Cushing), the local physician employs Carla Hoffman (one of Hammer’s finest scream queens/heroine Barbara Shelley) to work as his assistant. Carla just happens to be possessed by the spirit of Megera -the ancient mythological creature -The Gorgon. Richard Pasco plays Paul Heitz the hero hopelessly in love with Carla, who is blinded by the possibility that she may be responsible for the uncanny killings that have beset the village.

"You'll perform an autopsy?" the inspector asks. "On a body that's turned to stone?" Namaroff

When Professor Karl Meister (played by Christopher Lee) arrives in the village to investigate the murders, he is joined by Dr. Namaroff to begin to uncover the chilling truth behind the deaths. They soon learn that the Gorgon, a creature from Greek mythology, is responsible for the killings. The Gorgon has the power to turn anyone who gazes upon her face into stone.

In The Films of Christopher Lee, the actor called The Gorgon a ”beautiful-looking picture, but the whole thing fell apart because the effect of the snakes on Megera’s head was not sufficiently well done for the climax of the film. Not a memorable picture, but it ouls have been terrific.”

Syd Pearson Hammer artist did the makeup for The Gorgon.

Grave of the Vampire 1972

"Cake is so delicious. I can't believe dead people haven't found a way to eat it."

Director John Hayes–specialized in trashy exploitation & horror including Dream No Evil 1970 (Read my post about the film HERE:), Garden of the Dead 1972 (which was part of the double bill with Grave of the Vampire), The Cut-Throats 1971 and Jailbait Babysitter 1977— was in a good position to explore the evocative study of the modern-day vampire. Following the Yorga mythos, Hayes also made a smart move in casting Michael Pataki as Caleb Croft. Hayes manages to effectively include brutal deaths and a climactic confrontation between father and son.

Michael Pataki’s portrayal of Caleb Croft/Professor Lockwood is not bad as a malevolent, hostile, and snarling 70s-style vampire. William Smith -prolific in exploitation, thrillers, and favorite television series like Kolchak, Columbo, and The Rockford Files is known for his hyper-H Man persona and is an interesting decision to be cast as the tragic product of Croft’s angy loins.

Back in the early 1970s Grave of the Vampire featured one of the most cringe-worthy scenes in a horror movie. Today it wouldn’t arouse a slight wince, but for that time period seeing a mother feeding a newborn infant a baby bottle filled with blood was quite a bold move on the part of filmmaker John Hayes. In 2009 Paul Solet directed Jordan Ladd in Grace, the story of a mother Madeline Matheson who loses her unborn child but insists on carrying the baby to term. When she delivers the infant it miraculously returns to life but with a thirst for human blood…

Leslie begins drawing her own blood into syringes and filling bottles to feed the baby, whom she names James. Thirty years later, Leslie dies, leaving her son to blame his father for her suffering, James spends his life hunting down his evil father.

All within the first fifteen minutes of the film, in a mist-shrouded graveyard, the camera gracefully circles around a tomb bearing the Croft family name. Jaime Mendoza-Nave’s ( The Town That Dreaded Sundown 1976, The Evictors 1979) soundtrack resonates with the rhythmic thud of a heartbeat, hinting at a secret lifeforce lingering within the tomb.

This reveal is suspended as the film cuts to a college fraternity house, where a  ritual is being held, "Lola Blossom's gonna do her dance," says a fraternity brother. "And we've got all the freshmen dressed up like dogs so they can crawl on their knees and bark at her."

One of the college students – Paul, leaves the party with his girlfriend Leslie, driving off in an automobile from the 1930s.

Somewhere in New England on a moon-soaked night in 1940, the young couple Paul (Jay Scott) and Leslie (Kitty Villacher, The Deathmaster) go to a cemetery to make woopie in the nighttime hours. Sporting an argyle sweater and bow tie, Paul plans on taking the opportunity to propose to his sweetheart. When Paul proposes to Leslie, her response is classic: “Yes, Paul, anytime you want me to.”

The lovers immediately become amorous on a tombstone. Leslie says, "I don't think I'll ever be frightened of graveyards. It's special for us."

At the same time, a coffin lid in the Croft tomb opens to expose busy character actor Michael Pataki whose dessicated face appears with decrepit green/gray pancake makeup. (Tino Zachhia Psychic Killer 1975, Death Game 1977, and The Manhandlers 1974 was responsible for Pataki’s vampire makeup) The living dead Croft is crawling with tarantulas and toads. (think Barbara Steele in Black Sunday).

This is the grave of Caleb Croft (Michael Pataki  178 television & movie credits- from exploitation/thriller/dramas and a slew of horror films-) a known murderer who was accidentally electrocuted to death "” now rising from his tomb in search of fresh blood.

Paul and Leslie don’t have time to celebrate as they climb into the back seat of his car to consummate their engagement when Croft ascends from his coffin and makes his way to the couple's car ripping the car door off its hinges, pulling Paul out, lifting him over his head, and slamming him down onto a massive tombstone, breaking his back. Leslie then witnesses Croft sucking blood from her fiancé's neck. And when she tries to escape, he drags her into a nearby freshly dug grave.

During the gruesome attack, a worse fate is in store for Leslie, as she is dragged into the empty grave and assaulted by the undead fiend who flees before sunrise to find shelter and commit further bloodshed.

Leslie ends up in a hospital. This is where John Hayes begins to disrupt the traditional vampire narrative. Two years before in 1970, Robert Quarry emerged on screen as Count Yorga who terrorized a group of 70s hipsters, and the same year as Grave of the Vampire, Dan Curtis introduced Kolchak: The Night Stalker which also subverted the conventional Gothic vampire tale as a modern-day exploration of the urban threat of vampirism, its historic mythos and its insidious ability to adapt to contemporary rituals. Now the vampire hunting Van Helsing became a shabby reporter in a Searsucker suit and $2 hat, chasing down a twentieth-century boogeyman, and in this film, Caleb Croft is actually a professor at the community college.

Lieutenant Panzer (Ernesto Macias) already suspects that Paul has been slaughtered by a vampire. When he questions Leslie at the hospital, he shows her a series of photographs and when she sets her eyes on the picture of Croft she has a violent reaction. Croft eventually kills Lieutenant Panzer (Ernesto Macias Kiss of the Tarantula 1976), by smashing his head with the lid of the crypt.

The doctor breaks the news to Leslie that she is pregnant. At first, she is happy thinking that she’ll give birth to Paul's baby, but he immediately strongly urges her to have an abortion as what's growing inside her is an otherworldly parasite. "What's growing inside of you isn't alive,"

Though he doesn’t explain his findings. Olga (Lieux Dressler), Leslie’s roommate in the hospital reveals why she doesn’t trust doctors, "My husband died from pills, man! Leslie is confused by her doctor's ambiguous warning. Though he has been her doctor since she was a child she defies his logic. "All those old people in the waiting room, none of them ever got better." Leslie turns her back on conventional medical science. When Leslie refuses his medical advice to abort her pregnancy, she leaves the hospital.

Leslie winds up in an old summer home that belonged to her parents and with Olga’s (Lieux Dressler, Kingdom of the Spiders) help who acts as a midwife, She delivers her baby at home in her bedroom. However, the baby, whom she names James (full name James Eastman), has a sinister secret. He requires human blood for sustenance, and Leslie resorts to drawing her own blood to feed him.

When Leslie quickly realizes "Why is he so gray?" Olga begs Leslie to take him back to the doctor. Leslie refuses and insists on trying to breastfeed the newborn one last time.

In a prophetic moment, as Leslie begins to bring her baby to her breast to feed, reaching toward a bowl of fruit that holds a knife, the blade cuts her finger and the little beads of crimson begin to drop onto the infant’s mouth. It’s at this moment that she realizes the true identity of her son, and who his father is.

Her ashen little boy can only find nourishment through human blood. Its anxious new pink lips suckle, the blood like red milk nourishes its unholy thirst. What upends this scene is the way it subverts the rule of law of motherhood – heightening the disturbing aspect of the thing, blending the grotesqueness of an infant drinking blood, and the simultaneous use of a traditional lullaby. “All the pretty little horses…” Leslie sings to James. I remember this scene vividly.

Some thirty years later, at the time of Leslie’d death, James has grown up to be the brawny James Eastman (William Smith,), who is presumably half vampire and half human enough to exist out in the sunlight but still depends on eating bloody raw steaks. James sits beside his mother’s coffin, he explains to us in voice-over:

James Eastman voiceover] ”My mother found it difficult to tell me that I wasn’t like other children; I could never share a life with whole human beings. I slowly learned that the thing that raped my mother and fathered me was no living feeling man, but a malignant force of cancer that refused to be destroyed. It wasn’t only her blood my mother gave to keep me alive, her youth and her own life was sucked up into the syringe that fed me.

I came to hate Caleb Croft for creating me in his image, and for using my mother as a spawning ground for his evil. I’m determined to destroy him.”

James is tormented having spent his life tracking down his monstrous father. It's been James Eastman's lifelong mission to finally confront his murderous old man, who constantly moves from place to place and has managed to elude him over the years. Caleb Croft who is believed to have been born centuries earlier as Charles Croyden is now calling himself Professor Lockwood, teaching a night class on the occult. James enrolls in one of his classes, being vocal about his suspicions about Lockwood – calling out the subject of vampires. And now father and son’s lives will finally converge

In class, Croft/Lockwood makes a racist remark about a voodoo spell that can kill its victims. Here he demonstrates a bit of ironic misdirection – drawing away his student’s attention from the fact that he is proof that these things are possible in a cruel and supernatural world "Can it really kill? No. Not here with automobiles and electric lights. We could never believe such a thing. But strip away the lights, the automobiles, the antibiotics that keep us one step ahead of death, and we are left with pathetic, frightened little creatures wandering in a cruel and hostile world."

After Prof. Lockwood theorizes that death is ‘beautiful’, James presses him on the subject of vampires, and the legend of Charles Croydon, a 17th-century Englishman who, with his wife, practiced vampirism. James and fellow student Anita (Diane Holden) have read that Charles Croydon and Caleb Croft murderer and rapist, are in fact, the same person. But the bell rings, and it cuts Lockwood off before he can address the question.

In the meantime, Lockwood/Croft has already murdered a prostitute drinking her blood after he slashes her neck with a broken bottle. Next, he seduces one of his female students, "At first you reminded me of my dead wife Sara, but then I went beyond that… Forgive me if I seem to be compelling. That quality is inspired by you." She answers him, "I feel very helpless at this moment."Â "You are free to leave, No tricks. no…’ (re-referencing the racial slur.)

Later that night, Lockwood is in the library searching for a book on Charles Croydon. When the library closes, the librarian unloosens her hair letting it fall on her shoulders, and begins to try and seduce him. She entices him with the knowledge that she was once a photographer’s model. But, when she refuses to let him take the book on Croydon from the library, he becomes enraged, "You were using me!" He grabs her by the throat and kills her.

Later, James and Anita attend a party, where she remarks to him ‘‘I'd swear you were a vampire if I hadn't seen you walking around in the sunlight. You're unobtainable."

By the night’s end, James winds up back at his apartment with another student, Anne (Lynn Peters) who seduces him. After they make love,  he can hardly keep from biting her neck, but he stops himself.

James becomes romantically involved with Anne who happens to remind Croft of his former vampire bride, but it is Anne's flirtatious roommate Anita (Diane Holden) who offers herself up to Croft in exchange for vampirism, but she just ends up another one of his many victims.

When Lockwood comes looking for Anne and wanders into Anita’s apartment, she knows his true identity and asks him to make her one of the undead. "I want you to make me a vampire. Slowly mix my blood with yours until one night while I'm bathing in the light of the full moon, the black magic will take place, and I will come to you as your bride, and serve you for all eternity."

But he denies her hunger for immortality, "The relationship would become a bit stale, don't you think."Â  Then he takes a kitchen knife and slashes her throat. Anne comes home from her night of lovemaking and finds Anita’s body in the shower.

After Anita is found murdered, Anne’s friend notices that she is very calm for someone who found her best friend slaughtered, "God if I found Anita like that, I'd be in a strait-jacket. But here you sit, sweet as cream, ready for tonight's seance."

Anne and James attend a séance hosted by Lockwood who shows up for the séance channeling a bit of Robert Quarry’s Count Yorga, another modern vampire flick that features a groovy séance. Carol Moskowitz (Abbie Henderson) remarks, "You make a groovy medium” and tells Lockwood ”I’m not afraid… I even left my crucifix upstairs!”

Lockwood chooses Anne to be his conduit to the spirit world. He tells everyone to "relax," and begins invoking his dead wife Sara: "Anne is here with us all. Take her, Sara. Your mind in her body, with me through all eternity."

James seizes the moment to summon the recently deceased Anita, channeling her presence into Anne’s body. James seeks to compel Anita to reveal the truth about the way she died at the hands of Croydon/Croft/Lockwood.

Through Anne, Anita speaks, "Professor Lockwood is the vampire," and then Anne faints.

James carries Anne upstairs, and the two make love again. Lockwood faces his students with one of them saying "I think either you're a vampire, or Anne is a marvelous actress and voice impressionist."

Lockwood breaks their neck, while another macho séance guest (Carmen Argenziano) stands bewildered as the bullets from his gun pass right through Lockwood’s body. As he bares his sharp teeth, he slaughters the rest of them, and then finally goes on to confront his son.

It is then that James reveals his true identity – that he's the vampire’s long-lost illegitimate offspring. James and Lockwood begin to have a violent exchange. They follow each other upstairs where Anne passes out again. "Who are you?" Lockwood asks and is destined to find out."I'm your son!… Your son, conceived in a grave!"

When James puts a stake through Lockwood’s heart, he returns to the decrepit fiend that rose up from the grave. "James, what's the matter?" Anne asks. "Get away from me, Anne," he growls in agony. The twist ending… James now has fangs.

In 1972 the gloomy and modern Gothic work was a far cry from the usual Hollywood vampire movie. The whole idea of a vampire knocking up a young woman in a dreadful empty grave, and later giving birth to his waxen offspring with a thirst for blood, is quite unsettling, and this blesses the film with the shocking scenes that would lead to some controversy by way of the critics and audiences alike – that of the mother cutting her own breast or sticking a needle in her arm like a heroin addict, to fill the baby’s bottle with the blood needed to feed her baby boy. Included in this cinematic sacrilege, are the droplets of blood sprinkling onto the infant's lips in close-up.

The low-budget film reportedly made for $50,000 in 11 days. Grave of the Vampire was obviously influenced by the box office success of Count Yorga, Vampire 1970, possessing some of the same still effective crudeness, gritty creepy offbeat realism of many of the early 1970s and the funky California Gothic-dreary atmosphere associated with Yorga and its sequel in 1971.

One of the things that has given Grave of the Vampire some notoriety over the years is that its screenplay was written by a young David Chase, some years before he would become story editor on the classic Kolchak: The Night Stalker series of which he wrote eight episodes for. Chase would go on to become the creator of the iconic culture phenomenon mob drama The Sopranos.

This is your EverLovin’ Joey sayin’ G! It’s been ghastly! Stay tuned for the Horror of letter H!!!!

Happy Creeping Leaping Halloween! –

Here’s a little treat for your Halloween goodie bag! And check out my interview with Sara, daughter of horror legend Boris Karloff!

Sure as his name is Boris Karloff… the legend endures: My Chat with Sara Karloff

 

This is your EverLovin’ Joey here at The Last Drive In saying have a safe and Happy Halloween!

Sure as his name is Boris Karloff… the legend endures: My Chat with Sara Karloff

Last October I had the incredible opportunity to reconnect with Sara Karloff at the Chiller Theater Convention here in New Jersey. It's really hard to put into words the feeling you get when you're actually talking to a gracious, elegant, kind, regal, and lovely woman who happens to be the daughter of the man you've worshiped since a young child.

I met Sara the year before at the same nostalgic celebration of classic, cult film, and retro television royalty (The Chiller Theatre Convention) and she invited me to sit with her and talk for a while. At the time, fans were buzzing around trying to get autographs and buying memorabilia with images of her father's influential work in horror pictures, or should I say "˜terror' pictures, as Boris would refer to those kinds of narratives in film.

Boris Karloff will forever be remembered for bringing Mary Shelley's existential monster to life, embodied with pathos and empathy. Karloff is the infinite soul of the monster. His character was my introduction to horror films and to a whole new world where I experienced a sense of belonging. Meeting Sara was the closest I could ever get to my hero Boris Karloff. I truly never imagined I would have the honor of connecting in this way, with the great man who changed my perceptions by opening up my heart to love the mysteries of life and the thrill of being both scared and delighted.

So there I sat with this striking, dignified woman who shared and shares her life with my idol, Boris Karloff, who appear in over 200 films and television programs during his legendary career. He will always be the never-ending expression of a genre that refuses– like Frankenstein’s monster– to die. Part of Karloff’s great legacy is how he brought us all together and gave horror fans a hero.

During the reign of Universal’s claim to what would become the most famous monsters in cinematic history, Karloff elevated the studio’s output with his limitless beauty by interpreting the genre through great instinct and intellect, not just in James Whale’s tragic monster in Frankenstein 1931 but as Imhotep in The Mummy 1932.

A few of my favorite Boris Karloff films are three of Val Lewton’s psychological metaphors of fear where he showed the range of his acting skills. The masterpieces Bedlam, Isle of the Dead, and The Body Snatcher were sparked ‘alive’ by his gentle soul and his ability to dive into authentically sinister roles manifesting truly dark, menacing fiends and yet it was the exact opposite of who he was in real life, a fine English gentleman who possessed grace and kindness.

Boris as Cabman John Gray in Val Lewton’s The Body Snatcher (1945) directed by Robert Wise.

Boris as General Nikolas Pherides in Val Lewton/Mark Robson’s Isle of the Dead (1945)

Some of my favorite performances are the set of three films, The Black Cat 1934, The Raven 1935, and The Invisible Ray 1936, all co-starring Bela Lugosi. These pictures too, showcased Karloff’s ability to elicit chills on a wholly deeper level possessing a true passion and understanding for creating thoughtful scary stories. He could be imposing as the crazed Morgan in The Old Dark House 1932, playing twin brothers Good & Evil in The Black Room 1935, and the tragic pianist framed for murder in The Walking Dead 1936. And I adore his more sympathetic and benevolent characters as well — Before I Hang 1940, The Devil Commands 1941, Corridors of Blood 1958, and The Haunted Strangler 1958.

Boris in James Whale’s The Old Dark House (1932).

Boris and Bela in Ulmer’s The Black Cat (1934).

Boris and Bela in The Raven (1935).

Boris Karloff as John Ellman in Michael Curtiz’s The Walking Dead (1936).

Boris as Dr. Janos Rukh in Lambert Hillyer’s The Invisible Ray (1946).

Boris as Dr. Julian Blair in The Devil Commands (1945) directed by Edward Dmytryk.

Boris as Dr. Bolton in Corridors of Blood (1958).

I've enjoyed his films since I was a girl, and I continually watch everything in his long body of work, as I never tire of seeing his incredible talent, his serious portrayals, and the wonderful light that shines through every performance. He has many layers to his persona, but his class, kindness, and thoughtful embrace of the work that is ever-present. Boris has the unparalleled ability to Immortalize the sinister only to be counterbalanced by his divine power in other roles, to draw out our sympathy. He will always be the eternal paradoxical face of terror and gentility.

Sara and I had the most warm and welcoming conversation over the course of that day, and I had the chance to tell her about my deep and abiding affection for her dad. I was in a sparkling daze, because I felt like I was talking to her father as well, and I believe she enjoyed spending time with me too. Sara Karloff is so gracious and delightful about her devotion to her father’s fans.

One little part of our exchange at Chiller"¦

I told her, “He elevated each film to a higher level because of the quality of his acting, the dimension to his emotional output, his body language and that exquisite voice. A soft and dream like tone that is both calming and poetic.

His legacy is that he brought honor to the genre of horror. He contributed to the world an incredible body of work, and he will be remembered so dearly by so many of his. I wasn't exaggerating when I said I wished he had been my grandfather." She replied, “He would have like that, he would have been my grandfather.” The words shot through me with warmth and the joy of awaking from a wonderful dream. Because she meant it.

I told her, “He exuded such a gentility, that even with his most brutal characterizations in film, you always knew it was the actor of the man. And quite the grand actor he was. I wanted to mention, how much his voice is so unique. He has a depth, and a pathos that no other actor possesses.”

She replied, “You are correct about his voice. It was remarkable. It not only was his British accent, but the way he could soothe you or scare you with his voice. He was indeed a fine actor and a wonderful human being.”

We had a long conversation that day, laughing and talking about contributions he made to dramatic television performances aside from the collection of well-remembered films, from silents to drama, his films were not exclusive to the horror genre. Talking about Boris makes me dewy and teary-eyed, explaining what I think about his great body of work and the legacy he left us as one of the most memorable cultural icons.

Even though he is the recognized face of "˜horror', early on Boris Karloff acted in many different films with varying scenarios and narratives that weren't connected to the classical horror genre. James Whale's Frankenstein for Universal was Boris Karloff's 81st picture. He had done theatre and dramatic films, like Howard Hawks’ The Criminal Code 1930 where his brilliant performance as Galloway had a particularly restrained hostility. As neither a monster nor a bad guy, he created a figure of dark and shadowy apprehension.

He also appeared in the ultra-violent Scarface 1932  for Howard Hawks. Aside from being the host of CBS's Thriller anthology series, where he opened up each episode with his own ominous epilogues for Thriller with his cheeky sense of humor, "Sure as my name is Boris Karloff — this is a thriller!"

Boris’ droll epilogue to Thriller episode Roses Last Summer starring Mary Astor

My favorite performances were his collaborations with Val Lewton. They are psychological in tone and gave Karloff the highly layered characterizations that allowed him to reveal his dynamic versatility surpassing his monster image in the Universal cycle of horror films. Lewton gave Karloff a place to flex his subtlety of the human psyche and how we all struggle with the light and darkness of the soul and he captured that nuance brilliantly. While Universal excelled by manifesting corporeal monsters, Val Lewton played on the monsters of the mind. Here Boris was able to convey these darker complex personalities with depth. Lewton used elements of dark and light within us all, and Boris Karloff was a master at dancing between the shadows of Val Lewton's complex vision.

And that is what he managed to portray within Jack Pierce's makeup for Frankenstein's monster. Beneath the fierce snarling innocent that rose from death and was born into a cruel world, judged by his ugliness and his otherness, Karloff imbued the monster with a sadness that evoked pity. He could transmit that to us, through his eyes and his thoughtful movements.

Since the last time we spoke, Sara and I have maintained a connection and I had the great privilege of continuing our conversation where I got to discuss her iconic father a bit more. If COVID-19 hadn't thrown the world into chaos and changed how we now interact with each other, this month would have been another wonderful celebration- spending the day together regaling Boris Karloff's career and the man himself.

Sara: Hello

Jo: Hello, Sara?

Sara: Uh-huh

Jo: Hi, it's Jo Gabriel. How are you feeling?

Sara: I'm better, thank you. I'm still recovering but I'm better.

Jo: Yes, you sound a little bit better.

Sara: Yes, I am. I'm listening to your CD.

Jo: You are! And?

Sara: I am enjoying it immensely!

Jo: Oh, that's good! I wanted you to like it.

Sara: Oh, it's marvelous.

Jo: Oh, good!

Sara: It's so relaxing and it's so autumnal (I never can say that word). And it's just like walking through the woods and it's like listening to a brook babble. It's just wonderful.

Jo: Are you feeling up to doing a little talking about your Dad?

Sara: Sure, I'd be glad to.

Jo: Ok, wonderful, because as I said, I'm going to start delving into his career and really doing a very extensive feature on him on my website. And in order to do that it's going to take some time and some research and I really want to do a good job.

Sara: Oh, I'm sure you will.

Jo: Thank you. It's a labor of love and I think it's about time that I do it. And now that we have this connection I thought it would be good to include a little conversation with you about a few things I am curious about.

Sara: Ok, that's fine.

Jo: So, you know, you and I when we were sitting and talking at Chiller, we talked a little bit about how your father loved working with Val Lewton.

Sara: Yes, indeed, he did.

Jo: Yes, Lewton's work is very visual like poetry and I think a lot of the films showcase the depth of your dad's versatility as an actor. His performances in those particular films were extraordinary. Do you want to tell me a little bit again about how he felt working with Lewton?

Sara: Well, I think I can only say what I've read and heard but my father said that working with Val Lewton and his films saved his soul. You know, he had made so many "“ well he made 3 Frankenstein films and then by the time he made the Val Lewton films the quality of the films being offered had really diminished. And he said that working with Val Lewton was such a joy. It was such a pleasure and such a joy because he and Lewton got along so beautifully. They were both well-educated and well-read men. And they enjoyed one another's company. And those scripts were well written and well directed and well shot and well lit. And they were in black and white and they were suspenseful. And he and Val became good friends and my father really enjoyed doing those high-quality films after some of the ones he'd been doing. And they were well-received by the public. They've stood the test of time. My father got to certainly prove his acting skills. He enjoyed working with the other actors, working with good scripts. It just was a joy for my father to make those 3 films.

Jo: Yes I was going to ask about that. I know director Mark Robson and director Robert Wise were both really accomplished directors, but is there one particular film out of the three? I mean, I love Bedlam and thought that was extraordinary. But is there one that he talked about more?

Sara: You know my father didn't talk about his work and he didn't bring it home. But I do know that he was really very very pleased to have that opportunity. But I never heard him state a preference amongst those 3 films.

Jo: Well that's interesting and I'm not surprised that Val Lewton was one of his favorites, favorite body of work to put his stamp on. So the other thing I was wondering "“ I have something written here. It says "Boris Karloff's gentility and grace show through the monster, the Frankenstein's monster. Which is partly why he's so transcendent in that role, because of his embodiment of the monster. And I really think he, the monster, was beloved by your father and beloved by the fans. And he knew when to leave that character with dignity. Can you tell me a bit about his feeling about that role?

Sara: Well, you know, that role made such a pivotal difference in his life both personally and professionally. And he was forever grateful for that difference. And he felt a certain debt of gratitude to that role. He often would in tongue-and-cheek refer to the monster as his best friend. He did say the monster was the best friend any actor could ever have because it made such a huge difference in his life. But, it was his decision to stop playing that role after those 3 films because he felt that the storyline had been developed as far as it could or should be before it fell apart and before the creature became the brunt of bad scripts and bad jokes, as it did. And he just didn't want to be a part of that because he did feel a debt of gratitude. My father was a very gracious human being. A very gentlemanly human being. He was an English gentleman with a very self-effacing sense of humor. He understood and portrayed the creature with a sense of pathos and elicited empathetic reactions from those viewers at that time. And he said that children got it. They understood the creature was the victim and not the perpetrator, and any acts of violence were reactions more than proactive. So, that's the way he played it and that's the way the audience perceived it.

Jo: Yes, and that was my introduction into horror films was feeling that sympathy towards his characterization and feeling empathy and feeling like I was on his side. And he was provoked and he didn't do anything wrong, he didn't even ask to be here. And just feeling that kind of camaraderie with the "other." He evoked that in children and I think we're all grateful to him for that.

Sara: Well, I think that is the reaction that his roles elicited and that was how he intended to play it. And I think that there were times when James Whale wanted a bit harsher performance and my father stuck to his guns.

Jo: Good, good! And he was right. It was good instincts.

Sara: I think it is proven to be so in cinema history.

Jo: Absolutely. He's one of the most iconic figures. I think that's why it's so eternal and it's because he was definitely right. And I think that anybody else who might've played Frankenstein's monster, it would have been a who different ballgame.

Sara: Well, it would've been a different portrayal. And who knows if it would've been better. It would have been different. That's all one can say.

Jo: Ehhh, I don't know if it would've been better but I'm partial [laughs].

Sara: Well, you know it would've been different. [laughs] That's all we can bet on.

Jo: [laughs] Yes, that's for sure. Another thing that we talked about was his involvement with the television anthology show Thriller that he hosted and starred in 6 episodes. And he seemed to love his work on that. And his little introductions like little soliloquies, were so wonderful. Can we talk a little about that?

Sara: Oh, sure! He loved doing that show and he was proud of it. And again they were some of the best writers and actors and directors of the time involved with that show. And it was a fine, fine production. I mean, people like Ida Lupino, I mean you can look at the jackets for each show and recognize the names today"¦

Jo: Yes, John Brahm. They had a host of good writers and actors, and the character actors were wonderful.

Sara: They were indeed. And then as you said, my father's introduction to each was a bit, not really tongue-in-cheek, but he had a good time doing them.

Jo: And you could see that he really did. And you could see in the beginning they were trying to figure out where they wanted the show to go. Whether it was going to be more crime thriller like Alfred Hitchcock or if it should be more supernatural. And I think once your father took over and started doing the hosting I think it really went in the right direction.

Sara: Well it did indeed. And it captured a large piece of the audience, the viewing audience. And gave Hitch a run for his money.

Jo: Oh yes, I know. I had heard there was something where Hitchcock extended his show to an hour to try to compete with Thriller because it was doing these 50 minute episodes that were like little movies. So I heard there was some kind of, I guess, competition between the two. But I thought Thriller was very unique and very self contained and had it's own thing going for it. You know I was reading that Boris worked on something like 80 pictures and stage performances before he landed the role of Frankenstein's monster.

Sara: It was his 81st film.

Jo: Yes, it was his 81st film. That's incredible. And I was reading in particular that he did a lot of work with director Howard Hawks where he worked on The Criminal Code and Scarface. I know he didn't bring home his work or talk about it, but it is fascinating that there's this whole other aspect of him before he played the monster.

Sara: He did a lot of silents, and a lot of serials. He referred to himself as having been an extra 3rd from the left in the 4th row. He was in the business 10 years and nobody knew it. And 20 years, 10 years in British Columbia in theatre and then 10 years in Hollywood. And as he said Frankenstein was his 81st film and nobody saw the first 80.

Jo: [laughs] Right, right. But now they do. Now they go and they revisit a lot of his work, I know I do.

Sara: And they're trying to redo some of his silents and put them back together.

Jo: Oh, that's wonderful.

Sara: Yes, that'll be fun if they're able to do that.

Jo: Yes, that would be wonderful. Last year, the year before this one, when we first met, we had a good laugh about the picture The Raven which your father costarred in with Vincent Price and Basil Rathbone and how they used to play practical jokes on one another. Do you remember the story you told? They were playing tricks on the set and I just don't remember quite all of it"¦

Sara: Well one of the"¦ I can't remember which of the two films it was, Basil was put in a vat and they thrown all sorts of awful things into that vat of water like cigarette butts and I don't remember what else. And then they sat one it when he was in there and wouldn't let him out.

Jo: [laughs] Oh my goodness! So were they always doing things like that?

Sara: Well that's one example, I don't know all of them. A lot of them are lost to history. And I know that Peter Lorre had a tendency to not learn his lines and adlibbed which drove my father crazy.

Jo: Oh, really? Oh that's interesting [laughs].

Sara: And Vincent was much better at handling that than my father. My father was a stickler for himself learning lines and speaking on cue. And Peter, I guess, drove everybody crazy, including Roger Corman, because he didn't learn his lines and he adlibbed a lot.

Jo: Wow, right. You'd think that Roger Corman would encourage adlibbing because he would just go for broke. He'd do anything on the set. And I could see Vincent Price being"¦ he was a bit of a jokester too, so"¦

Sara: Oh yes, all of them where. All of them had a wonderful sense of humor.
Jo: Yeah, they must've had a fantastic time together as an ensemble of actors with each bringing their own thing to the table.

Sara: Oh, indeed and they had such a good time working together because they'd know each other all for years and respected one another professionally, and liked each other personally. And having a chance to spoof their own boogeyman images in these films was a great treat.

Jo: Yes, definitely. Well I have just one more question for you. Beyond being one of the most beloved icons, he's definitely the finest caliber of actor. And I think he transcends the ideology of the horror genre.

Sara: Oh yeah, he did some comedy and he guest stared on an enormous number of television shows of the day. He did some drama. He did a Joseph Conrad with Roddy McDowell and he did all sorts of things.

Jo: Oh yes, I've seen that performance and it was actually an extraordinary performance. Well, one of the things that strikes me about him is that he gives a very emotional and thoughtful contemplation on the human condition. He seems to tap into"”in the most subtle ways"”people's personalities and the inner machinations of people in his performances. And that's probably why the Val Lewton films were so important to him because they were very psychological and suggestive. But this is the question, and I don't know if you can answer it. What do you think your father would want his greatest legacy to be?

Sara: Oh, I can't really answer that. I think that he was a man of integrity and kindness.

Jo: And that's it. That's his legacy. Because that's what seems to remain. I always hear how gentle he was and how gracious he was with the people he worked with. Well, then, putting it this way his legacy definitely lives on through that and through his timeless work. And you travel all over as a curator of his memory. Are there things you hear quite often or most commonly about your father's legacy? Is there one common thing that comes up when you speak to his fans about him?

Sara: Ah, that he was so different than the roles he played. That he was a man of great kindness and gentleness. And how different that was from his roles. And that he had a sense of humor.

Jo: Well, that's what strikes me about him. And I say this to you honestly that when I see him, whenever he comes on the screen, I cry because I feel his gentleness coming through. No matter what he's playing. He could be playing the most nefarious sinister character and yet I know that he's Boris Karloff and I know he's acting and I get into the film. But it makes me cry because I feel like there is such a greatness there. And it comes through. And I mean it that I really wished he was my grandfather [laughs].

Sara: [laughs] Well, he was a lovely man, he really was. He was a lovely human being.

Jo: I wish I could have met him. I mean I feel close to him in a way because we're talking and I see his legacy lives through you. And you keep that alive"¦

Sara: Well, his fans keep it alive. His fans keep his legacy alive. For which I am extremely grateful.,

Jo: Yes, but you keep it alive too. You do a great job of reminding us that he gave us you and"¦

Sara: And he gave us his body of work.

Jo: Yes, he did that too. And I will always love him"¦

Sara: Well, that's wonderful to hear certainly as his daughter.

Jo: I really want to thank you for spending this time talking with me about him. And I think that the fans are absolutely going to love it. And you have my music to keep you company.

Sara: I do indeed. Thank you so much. It's just beautiful, I'm enjoying it immensely.

Jo: Thank you, I love playing piano. That's one of my great passions.

Sara: Well, you can tell from your music.

Jo: Thank you.

Sara: How long have you been playing?

Jo: Since I was 8 years old. For many years I taught myself how to play.

Sara: Did you really?

Jo: Yes, I was going to be trained as a classical pianist and I did have recommendations to Juilliard. But I chose to play my own music and not go the classical route. And I'm happy for that because I play my own work. And I don't think not training hurt me any"¦

Sara: Oh heavens, no. It's beautiful.

Jo: Yes, I wanted to find my own way. And I'm very proud of it.

Sara: Well, I can see why, thank you for sharing it with me.

Jo: Thanks for letting me share it with you. Use it for your healing and I'll be in touch with you. I'll send you the finished piece but we'll speak before that.

Sara: That's great, thank you so very very much.

Jo: You're welcome and thank you for spending time.

This is your EverLovin’ Joey saying Grandpa Boris’ Feature tribute is coming your way!

Postcards from Shadowland Halloween Edition 2020 –

The Unknown Terror (1957)

The Golem (1920)

The Man from Planet X (1951)

Woman in the Moon (1931)

Four Sided Triangle (1953)

Doctor X (1932)

Häxan (1922)

City of the Dead aka Horror Hotel (1960)

The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari (1920)

Murders in the Rue Morgue (1932)

Invasion of the Saucer Men (1957)

It Came from Outer Space (1953)

The Brain from Planet Arous (1957)

Not of this Earth (1957)

Terror is a Man (1959)

The Giant Claw (1957)

Nosferatu (1922)

Dracula 1931

Dracula (1931)

Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde (1931)

Frankenstein Meets the Wolfman (1943)

Left to right: Bud Abbott, Lou Costello, Evelyn Ankers, Joan Davis and Richard Carlson in HOLD THAT GHOST (1941), directed by Arthur Lubin.

The Thing from Another World (1951)

The Most Dangerous Game (1932)

Son of Frankenstein (1939)

Corridors of Blood (1958)

The Seventh Victim (1943)

The Queen of Spades (1949)

It Conquered the World (1956)

The Invisible Man Returns (1940)

The Raven (1932)

House of Dracula (1945)

Isle of the Dead (1945)

The Bad Seed (1956)

13 Ghosts (1960)

Horror Island (1941)

The Last Man on Earth (1964)

 

Chapter 4 – Queers and Dykes in the Dark: Classic, Noir & Horror Cinema’s Coded Gay Characters:

CODED CLASSIC HORROR THEORY “The Uncanny & The Other”

“Scenes of excessive brutality and gruesomeness must be cut to an absolute minimum.”

“As a cultural index, the pre-Code horror film gave a freer rein to psychic turmoil and social disorientation because it possessed a unique freedom from censorship… the Hays Office admits that under the Code it is powerless to take a stand on the subject of ‘gruesomeness.‘(Thomas Doherty)

Horror films in particular have made for a fascinating case study in the evolving perceptions of queer presence; queer-horror filmmakers and actors were often forced to lean into the trope of the “predatory queer” or the “monstrous queer” to claim some sense of power through visibility and blatant expressions of sexuality.- Essential Queer Horror Films by Jordan Crucciola-2018

Though Hollywood execs refused to show explicit queerness, they were willing to pay for scripts that dealt with characters who were social outcasts and sexually non-normative. The horror genre is perhaps the most iconic coded queer playground, which seems to have an affinity with homosexuality because of its apparatus of ‘otherizing’ and the inherent representation of difference. The horror genre crosses over boundaries that include transgressions between heterosexuality and queerness. The villain, fiend, or monster plays around with a variety of elements that, while usually separate, might merge male and female gender traits.

The horror film, in particular, found its place asserting a queer presence on screen. The narratives often embraced tropes of the “˜predatory queer’ or the “˜monstrous queer’ in order to declare themselves visible while cinematic queers were elbowed out of the way. Filmmakers had to maneuver their vision in imaginative ways to subvert the structure laid out for them by the Code.

As Harry M. Benshoff explains in his book Monsters in the Closet: Homosexuality in the Horror Film, “Immediately before and during the years of World War II, Universal Studio’s horror films began to employ a more humanistic depiction of their monsters,” and the films of Val Lewton, like Cat People, reflected “a growing awareness of homosexuality, homosexual communities, and the dynamics of homosexual oppression as it was played out in society and the military.” So even though Hollywood execs refused to show explicit queerness, during the first true horror boom in American cinema, they were willing to pay for stories about social outcasts and sexually nonnormative figures. Horror fans thus found themselves awash in some of the genre’s most iconic queer-coded characters of all time.

On a Greek Island, Boris Karloff plays Gen. Nikolas Pherides in Val Lewton/Mark Robson’s Isle of the Dead, 1945. Driven insane by the belief that Thea (Ellen Drew), who suffers from catalepsy, is the embodiment of an evil vampiric force, is a demon called a vorvolaka. Lewton drew on collective fears, and all his work had an undercurrent of queer panic and a decipherable sign of homophobia.

The Vorvolaka has beset the island with plague. Thea- “Laws can be wrong, and laws can be cruel, and the people who live only by the law are both wrong and cruel.”

The Pre-Code era was exploding with American horror films that reflected the angst, social unrest, and emotional distress that audiences were feeling. Personified in films that used graphic metaphors to act as catharsis, the images were often filled with rage, as Thomas Doherty calls it ‘the quality of gruesomeness, cruelty and vengefulness’. Think of the angry mobs with their flaming torches who hunt down Frankenstein’s monster, eventually crucifying him like a sacrificial embodiment of their fury. James Whale’s adaptation of Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein 1931 was a smash hit for Universal. Other studios were trying to ride the wave of the awakening genre of the horror picture. Paramount released director Rouben Mamoulian’s adaptation of the novella The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, by Scottish writer Robert Louis Stevenson, published in 1886. The film Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, which was released in 1931, stars Fredric March and Miriam Hopkins. During the Pre-Code period, many horror films proposed grisly subject matter that would shock and mesmerize the audience. For example, actor/director Irving Pichel’s The Most Dangerous Game (1932) starring Joel McCrea, Leslie Banks, and Fay Wray.

In 1932 Michael Curtiz directed Doctor X starring Lionel Atwill who would become one of the leading mad scientists of the genre.

Michael Curtiz’s macabre horror/fantasy experiment of homosocial ‘men doing science’, crossing over into profane territories and embracing dreadful taboos!

All scenes below are from Dr. X (1932).

Fay Wray is Atwill’s daughter who is the only woman surrounded by a group of scientific nonconformists.

The adaptation of Bram Stoker’s story of the Eastern European incubus was interpreted by Tod Browning in Dracula 1931, immortalized by Hungarian stage actor Bela Lugosi with his iconic cape and mesmerizing stare. While his nightly visitations were blood-driven and cinematically sexual in nature, there is a very homoerotic element to his influence over Renfield (Dwight Frye) and his gaze of gorgeous David Manners as John Harker.

Bela Lugosi looks down upon David Manners in a scene from the film ‘Dracula’, 1931. (Photo by Universal/Getty Images)

Robert Florey directed the macabre Murders in the Rue Morgue (1932) based on a story by Edgar Allan Poe. And a film that has no connection to Poe’s story but in the name is one of the most transgressive, disturbing horror films, rampant with vile taboos, such as necrophilia, incest, sadism, satanism, and flaying a man alive, is the unorthodox The Black Cat (1934). The film stars Boris Karloff and Bela Lugosi, one of four pictures they would do together. A pair of enemies who have a score to settle, ghosts of a past war, and stolen love all take place against the backdrop of a stylish Bauhaus set design and high-contrast lighting.

Paramount released Murders in the Zoo (1933) with Lionel Atwill, a sadistic owner of a zoo who uses wild animals to ravage and kill off any of his wife’s (Kathleen Burke) suitors. Kathleen Burke is well known as the panther girl in Erle C. Kenton’s horrifically disturbing Island of Lost Souls 1932, an adaptation of master fantasy writer H.G. Wells’ The Island of Dr. Moreau. Incidentally, Welles, Laughton, and his wife, Elsa Lanchester, had been good friends earlier on, before the filming of Lost Souls. The film stars Charles Laughton as the unorthodox, depraved scientist who meddles with genetics and nature. He creates gruesome human/animals, torturing them with vivisection in his ‘house of pain.’ The film also stars Richard Arlen, Leila Hyams, and Bela Lugosi as The Sayer of the Law.

In 1933, King Kong showed a giant ape grasping the half-naked object of his affection, with unmentionable connotations of bestiality between the ape and Fay Wray. With scenes of Wray writhing in his gigantic paws, he lusts after her until his desire kills him. It’s almost like fantasy noir: the object of your desire will ultimately kill you!

The 1930s and 1940s Fear the Queer Monsters:

Re-assessing the Hitchcock Touch; by Wieland Schwanebeck -As Rhona Berenstein asserts, the horror genre “provides a primary arena for sexualities and practices that fall outside the purview of patriarchal culture, and the subgeneric tropes of the unseen, the host and the haunted house.”

By the same token, Kendra Bean concludes that Mrs. Danvers is portrayed as “a wraith; a sexual predator who is out to make Mrs. de Winter her next victim.”

Queer characters in horror films during the early period, reveal similarities between Mrs. Danvers and the staging of earlier sapphic characters, such as Gloria Holdens’s well-known portrayal of Countess Marya Zaleska in Dracula’s Daughter 1936. Yet, similar to the self-discipline of Mrs. Danvers, Dracula’s Daughter remains a figure of primacy and pity Ellis Hanson argues Dracula’s Daughter presents “the possibilities of a queer Gothic” early on in Hollywood history, “rich in all the paradox and sexual indeterminacy the word queer and the word Gothic imply.

There was a revival of the horror craze during the period of WWII. The Hollywood studios, both major and ‘Poverty Row” like Monogram and Republic, realized that horror movies were a lucrative business. The studios began to revisit the genre, looking for not only fresh formulas but they resurrected the classic monsters, dropping them into new plots. They also envisioned uniting gangster films with horror films, and this homogenizing led to a ‘queering’ of the two styles that demonstrated phallocentric ( guns, scientific penetration) and homoerotic themes and images into a sub-genre.

Public awareness of homosexuality reached a new height during these years, primarily due to the new set of social conditions wrought by war. Slowly , the love that dare not speak its name was being spoken, albeit in ways almost always obscurantist, punitive and homophobic. The linkage of homosexuality with violence and disease remained strong. Monsters in the Closet -Harry Benshoff

Rhona Berenstein, in her insightful book Attack of the Leading Ladies points out that films featuring the mad scientist trope operate with the homosocial principle, which speaks of the homoeroticism of males working together in consort subverting science together as a group of men who hide behind their objectification -the female object of their gaze, are in fact, figures of objectification themselves. They are simultaneously homosocial, homoerotic, and homophobic in aspect; … potentially possessing an extra-normative commitment between the two men.

Mad Doctor movies are homosocial in nature. The Mad Doctor movie is a subgenre that, below the surface, glorifies intimate male camaraderie and male homosexuality, and by the close of the picture, society, the prevailing culture, must, in turn, annihilate that which is repressed. However, it is not exclusively a vehicle to express homosexuality through homosocial interactions. There is a component not only of male bonding, but also a world without women; the thrust is a synthesis of misogyny and patriarchal tyranny and oppression of women. Homosocial relationships between men in these science horrors show the man’s desire for connection to other men, even one created by his own hand.

According to Twitchell in his Dreadful Pleasures and Attack of the Leading Ladies, Rona Berenstein, Colin Clive as Dr. Frankenstein in all three Universal pictures, was at least performing bisexuality. Whale’s 1933 Frankenstein might give way to the homosocial realm of the mad scientist trope of ‘homoerotic indulgence’ as these men exclude women from the pursuit of their fulfillment. Twitchell views the scientist’s fluid sexuality in order to examine the concept of a man controlling women’s primacy of giving birth. This might explain Dr. Frankenstein’s venture into unnatural reproduction—a process he wants to divert to himself without women’s exclusive right to motherhood. In the scene where he is as close to giving birth to a full-grown man, he seems to display sexual arousal when his creation comes to life. Henry Frankenstein provokes nature and defies his heterosexuality. As Whale was an openly gay director in Hollywood, it can be pondered whether he knew exactly what he was suggesting. Thesiger’s sexually ambiguous, or okay, not so ambiguous Dr. Pretorius, the mad scientist who pressures Henry Frankenstein to revitalize his experiments and create a mate for the monster. Pretorius is the scientist who insists that Henry continue his creative efforts in Bride of Frankenstein. Vitto Russo called Thesiger, a “man who played the effete sissy”¦ with much verve and wit.”

George Zucco, like Lionel Atwill, often portrayed the unorthodox scientist who flirted with taboos. He plays mad scientist Dr. Alfred Morris in The Mad Ghoul (1943) As a university chemistry professor, he exploits medical student Ted Allison (David Bruce) with his experimental gas that transforms Ted into a malleable, yielding macabre ghoul, whom Morris directs to kill and remove the victim’s hearts using the serum to temporarily bring Ted back from his trance like death state. David Bruce’s character is represented as a ‘queer’ sort of young man. He is not quite masculine and is unable to get his girlfriend, Evelyn Ankers, to fall in love with him. As the Mad Ghoul, he becomes a monstrous queer.

In 1932, director Tod Browning’s Dracula was based on Bram Stoker’s story of a fiendish vampire who, in a sexually implicit way, violates his victims by penetrating them with his fangs. The story pushed the boundaries of storytelling, and there was an inherent subtext of ‘queer’ ravishment when he sucks the blood of Dwight Frye to make him his loyal servant.

In Jonathan Harker’s Journal, the protagonist recounts his impressions of his interaction with the vampire, Dracula “As the Count leaned over me and his hands touched me I could not repress a shudder. It may have been that his breath was rank, but a horrible feeling of nausea came over me, which do what I would, I could not conceal.” For (Noël Carroll) the entry in his diary conveys revulsion by the Count’s closeness and offensive presence, which causes him to become sickened.

But it also could be read that Harker’s ‘shudder’ is not about his revulsion, but rather, an uncontrolled sexual response to the vampire’s looming over him, which could be interpreted not just as hunger for his ‘blood’ but an expression of repressed sexual desire and the fear it causes.

Horror movies have always pushed the boundaries of normalcy, by virtue of the fact that these films are inhabited by ‘monsters’, something ‘queerly’ different. And it is natural to observe two diverging responses to the impact of the horror genre and often, its persecution of what is ‘different’ and the source of what causes our anxiety.

Dracula may appear as the image of a man, but the count is far from human. While monsters in classical horror films are based on systems of maleness, they are split from being actual men. Although there are physical interactions and suggestive contact with the heroine, there isn’t the foundation of heterosexuality, but something quite deviant within their aggressively erotic encounters and/or assaults. The understanding of sexuality and the most narrow identifications that are assigned to varying orientations in a large sense is not translatable for the deeper layers of the monster and their relationship to their victims. In Hollywood, horror films can be seen as heterosexuality being invaded by an abhorrent outside force; inherent in the underlying message could be racism, classism, sexism, and gay panic. Though it can be interpreted as a landscape of heterosexuality that is in the full power of its universal presence, horror films are perfect platforms that can illustrate the collapse of heterosexuality and the subversion of sexuality.

The horror genre is a breeding ground for portrayals of the shattering of heterosexual power. This can be seen in Lambert Hillyer’s Dracula’s Daughter (1936) starring Gloria Holden as the sapphic vampire who lives in a New Village-type artist’s den, which signals her outsider status from domesticity and normalcy.

In White Zombie (1932), Bela Lugosi plays the eerily menacing Legendre. He turns men into lifeless workers who run the sugar mill. Legendre also begins to turn the plantation owner, Charles Beaumont (Robert Frazer), into one of his zombies. His motivation for his control over people is ambiguous, though there seems to be sexual reasoning for both the beautiful Madeline (Madge Bellamy) and Beaumont. In the scene where Beaumont is nearly paralyzed, Legendre’s control over his male victim parallels the sexual entrapment of the movie’s heroine.

MAD LOVE (1935) I have conquered science! Why can’t I conquer love?

Karl Freund’s Grand Guignol Mad Love (1935) shifts from gazing at the female to gazing at the male. Here, the focus is on Peter Lorre in his American screen debut as Dr. Gogol, who has an obsession with Frances Drake as Yvonne Orlac, an actress who works at the Grand Guignol Theatre. To Gogol, she is the typified defenseless heroine whom he tries to lure away from her husband, Stephen (Colin Clive), using his knowledge of scientific alchemy.

Though Gogol tries to become Yvonne’s master, his Galatea, there are critics who read the struggle between the two men as not just a rivalry for Yvonne’s love but Gogol’s desire for Stephen as well. Gogol is responsible for grafting new hands onto Stephen’s mangled body after a train crash. Mad Love could fit the criteria for the subgenre of science/horror films where the male gaze is diverted from the female object toward other men, in this case, what connected the two was the preservation of Stephen’s hands. Why, then, is it not possible that the focus could shift from Gogol’s attraction to Yvonne to the homosocial dynamics between Gogol as a doctor and his subject, Stephen?

Mad Love possesses some of the horror genre’s most tenacious performances of gender play. (Carol Clover) asks us to take a closer look at Freund’s film. It is less about the “suffering experienced by women, but at a deeper, more sustained level, it is dedicated to the unspeakable terrors endured by men.”

In a similar fashion to Waldo Lydecker’s (Laura) and Hardy Cathcart’s (The Dark Corner) pathology of objectifying Laura and Mari, Gogol worships Yvonne – his Galatea, with a measure of scopophilia that lies within his gaze upon the perfection of female beauty. To control and possess it. The pleasure is aroused by the mere indulgence of looking at her.

Gogol pays 75 francs to purchase the wax statue of Galatea. The seller remarks, “There’s queer people on the streets of Montmartre tonight.”

Gogol’s maid, Francoise, talks to the statue, “Whatever made him bring you here. There’s never been any woman in this house except maybe me… “I prefer live ones to dead ones.”

A Time Magazine review of Mad Love in 1933 notes this queer appeal directly, even comparing Lorre’s acting skills to those of another homosexual coded actor: I find the comment about their faces rude and insulting to both Lorre and Laughton, both of whom I am a tremendous fan.

Mad Love’s insane doctor is feminized throughout the film… In fact, the same reporter who noted Gogol’s sadism argues for his feminine demeanor: “Lorre, perfectly cast, uses the technique popularized by Charles Laughton of suggesting the most unspeakable obsessions by the roll of a protuberant eyeball, an almost feminine mildness of tone, an occasional quiver of thick lips set flat in his cretinous ellipsoidal face. This reviewer came closer than any other to articulate the subtext of mad doctor movies. He seems on the verge of noting that Lorre, Like Laughton is an effeminate madman obsessed by unspeakable homosocial desire. Attack of the Leading Ladies: Gender Sexuality and Spectatorship in Classic Horror Cinema by Rhona Berenstein.

Frances Drake’s heroine masquerades as a wife who deludes herself into believing that her husband is more masculine than he really is. Gogol has a curious empathy with Stephen, whom he touches frequently and prolonged. Although Gogol pursues the heroine, Yvonne, at the theater, forcing a kiss on her, his focus is primarily manipulating Stephen’s body, rejoining his hands and massaging them to stimulate life back into them. When he realizes that Stephen’s hands cannot be grafted back successfully to his wrists, he turns to another man, the hands of a knife thrower who was executed as a notorious murderer. Once Stephen recovers from the surgery, he can no longer continue as a concert pianist, but does develop the desire to throw sharp knives.

On the surface, the plot of Mad Love appears to be a heterosexual obsession; the most unspoken context is the connection between Gogol and Stephen. As is true of Frankenstein’s labor of love in Whale’s first film, Gogol sews men’s body parts together, and the result is a monster of sorts. (Berenstein)

In the film’s climax, Yvonne hides in Gogol’s bedroom and pretends to be the wax statue of Galatea. When Gogol touches the statue, she lets out a scream. In a euphoric daze (as in the original story), he believes that he has the power to bring Galatea’s statue to life. Yvonne begs him to let her go as he tries to strangle her.

Stephen then rushes to his wife and holds her in his arms. With his eyes fixed on the offscreen space in which Gogol’s body lies, he croons: “My darling.” The homosocial desire is destroyed when Stephen murders Gogol who intones, “Each man kills the thing he loves”“” echoing on the soundtrack.

In the film’s closing moments, the secret desire is finally spoken out loud…Has Stephen killed the man he loves? Given that the phrase that Gogol mutters was written originally by Oscar Wilde, whose homosexuality scandalized the British social and legal system in 1895, reading the homosocial desire into Mad Love within the very last moments, we are left to decipher the suspended cues. We are left with Stephen’s gazing at Gogol’s face and his knifed body as he lay dying, he speaks the words, “˜My darling” while the camera frames the two men sharing that moment in the closing scene.

The mad doctor narrative is particularly predisposed to homosocial impulses. “intense male homosocial desire as at once the most compulsory and the most prohibited of social bonds” – Epistemology of the Closet (Sedgwick)

Sedgwick investigated early fantasy/horror novels, Shelley’s Frankenstein 1818, Stevenson’s The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde 1886, and Wells’ The Island of Dr. Moreau 1895. At the beginning of the 1930s, these stories centered around mad doctors who delved into unorthodox, profane explorations and were all adapted to the screen. All of these nefarious or scientific, inquisitive men cultivated secret experiments, challenging the laws of nature. What Sedgwick found was that the Gothic literary representations of men performing homosocial collaborations were ‘not socially sanctioned and shunned.’

It was considered a necessary narrative element as well as a monstrous possibility that threatened to subvert the status quo. The combination of these two attitudes is expressed in homosocial narratives- male bonding is both horrifying and guaranteed, entailing the simultaneous introjection and expulsion of femininity. (Sedgwick)

“My darling”…

James Whale was a gay auteur who often imbued his work intentionally or with the ‘intentional fallacy’ of a ‘queer’ sense of dark humor. This comical, campy absurdity was always on the edge of his vision of horror and subtle profanity. His picture, The Invisible Man (1933), adapted from H.G. Wells’s story and starring Claude Rains, was classified as a horror film by the Code.

Dr. Jack Griffin (Rains), the antihero, is a frenzied scientist addicted to his formula as he seeks the ability to make himself invisible. His sanity begins to ‘vanish’ as his hunger for power, delusions of grandeur, and bursts of megalomania grow out of control. He plans on assassinating government officials, and he becomes more belligerent the longer he turns invisible. The idea that he displays radical ideas and runs around in the nude didn’t seem to arouse the censors; in 1933, a letter from James Wingate to Hays states, “highly fantastic and exotic [sic] vein, and presents no particular censorship difficulties.”

What’s interesting about the presentation of the story is that the coded gay leitmotifs were paraded out, right under the Code’s noses, and didn’t stir any indignation for its ‘queer’ humor.

Gloria Stuart and Claude Rains in James Whale’s The Invisible Man 1933

The Invisible Man perpetrates campy assaults on all the ‘normal’ people in his way, with intervals of sardonic cackles and golden wit and, at the same time, a menacing reflection of light and shadow. Claude Rains is a concealed jester who makes folly of his victims.

“An invisible man can rule the world. Nobody will see him come, nobody will see him go. He can hear every secret. He can rob, and wreck, and kill.” –Dr. Jack Griffin (The Invisible Man)

Claude Rains plays Dr. Jack Griffin, an outsider (a favorite of James Whale’s characters) who discovers the secret of invisibility, which changes him from a mild yet arrogant scientist into a maniacal killer. The film bears much of Whale’s campy sense of humor, with Griffin’s comic shenanigans abound until things turn dark and he becomes uncontrollably violent. “We’ll begin with a reign of terror, a few murders here and there, Murders of great men, Murders of little men, just to show we make no distinction. I might even wreck a train or two… just these fingers around a signalman’s throat, that’s all.”

According to Gary Morris (Bright Lights Film Journal), ‘The film demands crypto-faggot reading in poignant scenes such as the one where he reassures his ex-girlfriend, who begs him to hide from the authorities: “the whole world’s my hiding place. I can stand out there amongst them in the day or night and laugh at them.”

Though Griffin’s (Claude Rains) character is unseen at times, there are potent moments when he is animated as he skips to the tune, “Here we go gathering nuts in May,” flitting around like a fairy.

It is suggested that The Invisible Man is a metaphor for the way homosexuals are seen/not seen by society – as “effeminate, dangerous when naked, seeking a male partner in “crime,” tending to idolize his fiance rather than love her, and becoming ‘visible’ only when shot by the police…monitored by doctors, and heard regretting his sin against God (i.e., made into a statistic by the three primary forces oppressing queers: the law, the medical establishment, and religious orthodoxy” (Sedgwick)

The Invisble Man [undressing] “They’ve asked for it, the country bumpkins. This will give them a bit of a shock, something to write home about. A nice bedtime story for the kids, too, if they want it”

Continue reading “Chapter 4 – Queers and Dykes in the Dark: Classic, Noir & Horror Cinema’s Coded Gay Characters:”

Chapter 2 – Queers and Dykes in the Dark: Classic, Noir & Horror Cinema’s Coded Gay Characters:

THE LAND OF MORAL AMBIGUITY: HOLLYWOOD & THE HAYS CODE

"Pictures shall not infer that low forms of sex Relationships are the accepted or common thing…"

Prior to the Production Code, LGBT characters were somewhat prevalent, if heavily stereotyped and exploited, in a number of major films. The 1920s especially were a time of shifting societal norms and expanding artistic experimentation. As women rode the first wave of feminism and prohibition was increasingly challenged, filmmakers began to expand their boundaries and feature more controversial plotlines. – Sophie Cleghorn

Pre-Code was a brief period in the American film industry between the dawn of talking pictures in 1929 and the formal enforcement in 1934 of the Motion Picture Production Code (MPPC) familiarly known as the Hays Code. Pre-Code was a glorious time in the history of cinema. It was during the Depression Era before the cultural politics of Clergy and reformer organizations came in and initiated the need for moral governance over the film industry. Their interference evolved into the Hays Code created to oversee silent and talking pictures.

In the late 1920s before the Hays Code, films began to speak becoming audible and more realistic as Hollywood recognized that many Americans knew all about sex. In the early era of talkies during the gutsy cinema of the Depression era, there was nothing stopping the studios from producing daring films. Hollywood movies weren’t afraid to show gay characters or reference their experiences. Ironically, queers were pretty visible onscreen at this time in American cinema. These characters left an impression on trade papers like Variety which called this phenomenon – “queer flashes.”

Also in the early twenties, there were notorious scandals on and off-screen. Hollywood’s moral ambiguity was literally in the clutches of the Hays Code which the MPPDA used to wage a moral battle against Hollywood that they perceived would eventually lead to cultural ruination. The priggish William Hays was a deacon in the Presbyterian church, a former chair of the Republican party, and postmaster general before he was picked to lead the war on decadence in the movie industry. William Hays was appointed chairman of the Motion Pictures Producers and Distributors Association (MPPDA) from the year it was established in 1922 to 1945, but the Hays Code was not overturned until 1968. Hays and his code regulated film content for nearly forty years. The little worm.

W.C.Fields and Franklin Pangborn- Never Give a Sucker an Even Break (1941)

The Hays Code became a series of self-imposed, perceived-to-be-moral guidelines that told filmmakers and the major studios what was permissible to do in their movies. The Code was established in 1930, and the MPPC set forth censorship guidelines that weren’t yet strictly enforced. And states had their own censorship boards and so their individual standards varied. Hays tried to contain his guidelines without the intrusion of government censorship, so he created his own Production Code that was for all intents and purposes optional for studios.

They felt that the liberal themes of films in the 1920s were contributing to the supposed debauchery infiltrating society. They championed government censorship as the solution to return society to its traditional moral standards (Mondello).

In June 1927, Hays publicized a list of cautionary rules. A construct of ‘Don'ts and Be Carefuls'. The document and empowering legislation spelled out guidelines for propriety on screen in classic Hollywood that became known as the Production Code. It was co-authored in 1929 by Martin J. Quigley, a prominent Catholic layman, editor of the journal Motion Picture Herald, and Reverend Daniel A. Lord, a Jesuit Priest. Their collaboration reflected a ‘Victorianism’ that would tint the freedom of Hollywood’s creative license. “The Production Code was a template for a theological takeover of American cinema.” “No picture should lower the moral standards of those who see it.”

“Just Ten of the Thous Shalt Nots”

Homosexuality

While the Code did not explicitly state that depictions of homosexuality were against the Code, the Code barred the depiction of any kind of sexual perversion or deviance, which homosexuality fell under at the time. -Wikipedia

The convict

"The courts of the land should not be presented as unjust"¦"

Prostitution and fallen women

"Brothels and houses of ill-fame are not proper locations for drama. They suggest to the average person at once sex sin, or they excite an unwholesome and morbid curiosity in the minds of youth"¦"

Bad girls

"Pictures shall not infer that low forms of sex relationship are the accepted or common thing"¦"

Musicals

"Dancing costumes cut to permit indecent actions or movements are wrong"¦ Dances suggesting or representing sexual actions or indecent passion are forbidden"¦"

Adultery and the sanctity of marriage

"Adultery as a subject should be avoided"¦ It is never a fit subject for comedy. Thru comedy of this sort, ridicule is thrown on the essential relationships of home and family and marriage, and illicit relationships are made to seem permissible, and either delightful or daring."

NOT TO MENTION: GOD COMPLEXES-

Boris Karloff is Dr. Henry Frankenstein’s creation. Make-up by Jack Pierce.

By the time the sequel Bride of Frankenstein was released in 1935, enforcement of the code was in full effect and Dr. Henry Frankenstein’s overt God complex was forbidden. In the first picture, however, when the creature was born, his mad scientist creator was free to proclaim “Now I know what it feels like to be a God.”

‘Don’ts’ included “profanity,” “sex hygiene,” “miscegenation,” and "ridicule of the clergy." There was a much longer list of "˜Be carefuls' which indicated it was offensive to “show sympathy for criminals,” “arson,” “surgical operations,” "excessive or lustful kissing” and of course “HOMOSEXUALITY.”

Hays appointed Colonel Jason S. Joy to be in charge of the supervisory agency, the Studio Relations Committee. Once the first talky The Jazz Singer (1927) starring Al Jolson was released a newly fired-up rebel cry was heard from the hoity-toity do-gooders who raised objections against Hollywood’s immorality. What was once suggestive in silent pictures was now committed to sound, with all its risque humor and wicked context.

In 1934 censorship was tightening its stranglehold. Under pressure from the Catholic Church and other religious groups, the Motion Picture Production Code made it so that any marginal gay characters became masked in innuendo, relying on queer symbolism instead. Several grassroots organizations were founded in order to pressure the film industry, the most influential of all was the Catholic Legion of Decency.

So, between the Code and state censorship boards, one might expect that films produced after 1930 would be exemplars of wholesomeness and purity. In practice, the men who enforced the Code on behalf of the MPPDA (Jason Joy and James Wingate) were wholly ineffectual, primarily due to the very small staffs they were allotted to keep up with the work of reviewing scripts, treatments and finished films while battling studios that weren't especially thrilled by the bottleneck caused by the whole operation. The combination of bureaucratic sclerosis and the economic, political and cultural crisis brought about by the Great Depression ushered in a vibrant era of filmmaking and the introduction of many stars whose personas would forever be rooted in their pre-Code films.- Mike Mashon

The Code set in place in 1930 was a turning point in the history of self-regulation. With the strict enforcement of the Production Code, they attempted to influence the discourse in American film without coming out and definitively stating which contexts were strictly forbidden. Instead, they issued phrases like "should be avoided" and "should not suggest." Though a variety of controversial topics weren’t vigorously banned by the Production Code, gay characters WERE strictly prohibited. 

The Man Who Knew Too Much (1934) directed by Alfred Hitchcock- Peter Lorre

When the Hays Code was adopted in 1930, they articulated that, “though regarding motion pictures primarily as entertainment without any explicit purpose of teaching or propaganda, they know that the motion picture within its own field of entertainment may be directly responsible for spiritual or moral progress, for higher types of social life, and for much correct thinking.”

When the MPPDA formally ratified The Code, they demanded that it be followed to the letter but it “lacked an effective enforcement mechanism” – and the studio heads openly defied its frame of mind and its puritanical spirit.

The movie studios had other pressing issues of concern. It was the Great Depression, and studios were barely making it, on the brink of ruin due to low ticket sales. They were quite ready to fight with states over censorship because sex and violence sell. They wanted to draw in audiences that would be titillated by gangsters, vamps, and racy subject matter. Popular musicals could entertain with disparaging racial clichés and glamorous, intoxicating imagery, with hints of queerness. You could also watch languid prostitutes on screen — everyone seems to long for Shanghai Lil, in the film that has it all, Footlight Parade (1933)

Filmmakers tried to switch around controversial subject matter that would not only push the boundaries but would promote ticket sales, with films that would attract a more sophisticated audience. Breen perceived these films to be less ‘dangerous’ a word he often used. They focused on the ‘gangster’ film with its violent content, and when they put their foot on that genre’s neck, Hollywood rolled out the ‘fallen woman‘ films. They tried very hard to get around the scrutiny and so they delved into making horror pictures, and racy comedies. These fare better as they fell under the heading of being ‘unrealistic’ which rendered them as innocuous material to the censors.

During the Great Depression, movies were an escape for audiences in dire need of distraction. The morally-charged stranglehold that was beginning to challenge filmmakers forced them to experiment with movies that were audacious and candid in different ways. Pre-Code actually challenged audiences to watch real-life issues on screen. Pre-Code cinema offered some titillating truths coming out of the dream factory. Depression-era cinema exhibited gay characters, but generally in small parts and often used for comic purposes that managed to cue audiences in, with roles that were codified and readable as queer. ‘Queerness’ was railed against because it subverted traditional masculinity which was under attack by the new socioeconomic crisis in the country. Yet somehow, Hollywood found it to be a viable trigger for ideological gossip.

These films illustrated narratives that were thought-provoking, worldly, and subversive. Movies dealt frankly or were suggestive of sexual innuendo, sexual relationships between races, mild profanity, drug use, promiscuity, prostitution, infidelity, abortion, intense violence, and of course, homosexuality.

William Wellman’s Safe in Hell (1931) stars Dorothy Mackaill as a call girl in hiding. Prostitution is a no no!

Filmmakers took risks delivering a portrait of America with a punishing realism, and creative freedom to portray taboo themes like crime (gangs and guns, violence), and social dilemmas (drug abuse, poverty, and political unrest). And sexual relationships (adultery, promiscuity, deviance = homosexuality). In the 1930s filmmakers also sought to stir up controversy by screening queer characters, in order to shock audiences and drive up their ticket sales. As a result, movies became more lewd, ruthless, and vicious between 1930 and 1934. And Hollywood was its MOST queer from 1932-1934.

Yet during the silent era to the mid-thirties, gay characters were illustrated as stereotypes showcasing the popular tropes established by conventional hetero-normative gender bias. These archetypes were styled to be gender non-conformists. Queer men were fussy, effeminate, and flamboyant. With high-pitched voices, the air under their feet, and waving hands. Essentially, ‘fairies’ were deployed as comic relief on the periphery of the drama. Real-life queers of the Depression era and later periods were exposed to cinematic images, the vast majority being caricatured in which gays and lesbians were often presented as targets of ridicule and contempt for their divine decadence. ‘Entertainers play with gender ambiguity in Broadway thru a Keyhole (1933).‘ (Lugowski)

Lesbians were at the other end of the spectrum. They were ‘masculine,’ demonstrating deep voices, cross-dressing in male attire, and were installed in male-dominated professions. They were often invalidated by the straight male characters and were either played for the uncomfortable humor or shown as baffling to men. The PCA in its Hollywood’s Movie Commandments specified that there could be no comic characters “introduced into a screenplay pantomiming a pervert.” (Lugowski)

Gender Reversals, Queerness, and a Nation in Crisis.–

In Michael Curtiz’s The Strange Love of Molly Louvain (1932) Suddenly, queer imagery in film, typically in the form of comical representations of gay men, lesbians, and ambiguous sexuality, did not seem so funny any-more, least of all to those charged with applying Hollywood’s Production Code to film content. By “queer” imagery, I am focusing particularly on situations, lines of dialogue, and characters that represent behavior coded, according to widely accepted stereotypes, as cross-gendered in nature. As played by such prominent and well-established supporting comedy character actors as Franklin Pangborn, Edward Everett Horton, Grady Sutton, Erik Rhodes, Eric Blore, and Ernest Truex, queer men tended to appear as one of two types.

The queer in his more subdued form appears as the dithering, asexual “sissy,” sometimes befuddled, incompetent,and, if married, very henpecked (Horton), and sometimes fussy and officious (Pangborn). Pangborn, however, was one of the actors who (along with the unsung likes of Tyrell Davis and Tyler Brooke) also played or suggested the other type, the more outrageous “pansy,” an extremely effeminate boulevardier-type sporting lip-stick, rouge, a trim mustache and hairstyle, and an equally trim suit, incomplete without a boutonniere. Although a number of actors played or were even typecast in such roles, one generally doesn’t find a circle of prominent supporting actresses whose personas seemed designed to connote lesbianism (the closest, perhaps, is Cecil Cunningham) lesbian representation occurs frequently as well, and in perhaps a greater range of gradations. At her most overt, the lesbian was clad in a mannishly tailored suit (often a tuxedo), her hair slicked back or cut in a short bob. She sometimes sported a monocle and cigarette holder (or cigar!) and invariably possessed a deep alto voice and a haughty, aggressive attitude toward men, work, or any business at hand. Objections arose because she seemed to usurp male privilege; perhaps the pansy seemed to give it up. -David M.Lugowski: Queering the (New) Deal-Lesbian and Gay Representation and the Depression-Era Cultural Politics of Hollywood’s Production Code

Filmmakers were encouraged not to promote lifestyles of a ‘morally questionable’ nature, so queers remained as humorous detours away from the central story. It was a subtle defiance that filmmakers were determined to feature queer characters in their films in spite of the ban. Because of the threat of boycotts, this created some maneuvering around the scrutiny. Queer identities were not portrayed with depth or realism, this marginalized group was relegated to one-dimensional stereotypes. They were never shown to be in romantic relationships and filmmakers relied on visual cues to signal the character’s identity.

Censors at the PCA, for example, were very worried about the three female characters in William Dieterle’s Dr. Monica (1934) starring Kay Francis. The film is the story of three women, an alcoholic, a nymphomaniac, and a lesbian. In October 1935, Joseph Breen wrote a letter to RKO’s head B.B. Kahane concerned about Follow the Fleet (1936) starring Fred Astaire who gives a dance lesson to all male sailors. “We are assuming of course that you will exercise your usual good taste in this scene of the sailors learning to dance. There will be no attempt to inject any ‘pansy’ humor into the scene.”

Due to a new, stricter Motion Picture Production Code, gays were being swept under the rug in movies. In the late 1930s and 1940s the only way to circumvent the Code was by painting homosexuals as cold-hearted villains (The Celluloid Closet). Now it appeared that gays were committing terrible crimes because of their sexual orientation, implying that homosexuality leads to insanity. In a society where being homosexual was synonymous with being sinful, it is no surprise that Hollywood made the leap to correlating a homosexual orientation with malicious crimes and wicked urges (Weir).

Alfred Hitchcock is a visual magician who rolls out the answers gradually while deconstructing what is explicit in the narrative. He is one of the most measured auteurs, whose eye for detail links each scene together like a skillful puzzle. He has been studied, tributed, and –in my opinion–unsuccessfully imitated. Rigid to conform, he danced around the Hays Code like a cunning acrobat indulging his vision while deflecting the lax regulations. There are arguments that Hitchcock insinuated homophobic messages in some of his films. The queer characters were all deviants and psychopathic predators, who were the ones responsible for some of the most heinous murders on screen. For example, in his film Rope (1948) the two Nietzschian murderers are intellectual companions who get off on trying to perpetrate the perfect murder. They exhibit a romantic friendship with no sexual contact on the screen. Yet there are cues that they are sexually aroused by each other’s mutual pleasure at killing a young boy. The Hays Code inhibited the depiction of a queer couple so Hitchcock had to subtly suggest their sexual relationship by dropping metaphors and visual clues. Though, it might be interpreted through a homophobic lens, and their homosexuality might be at the core of their cruel and immoral nature.

According to David Greven, Hitchcock’s homophelia ‘was through a larger conflict that Hitchcock’s cinema that filmmakers conducted their investigation of American masculinity, one that focused on fissures and failures. Homosexuality emerged as representative of these and also as potential new direction for American masculinity to take, not without serious risk but also treated with surprising, fascinated interest… Hitchcock’s radical de-centering of heterosexual male dominance, devising contemporary narratives of heterosexual male ambivalence that allowed for, at times depended on, an investment in same-sex desire as well as an awareness of its dangerous, pernicious seductions. Homophobia in both Hitchcock and the New Hollywood’s informed by an attendant fascination with the homoerotic that emerges from scenes of gender crisis and disorganization that are rife in both the Cold War and New Hollywood eras. 

Any illicit sexual behavior on screen considered perverse would be demonized and exploited as immoral. Queers were shown as villainous, dangerous deviants who were fated for ruination and/or death.

There were several broad categories the Code was not vague about. Any movies depicting criminality had to essentially illustrate that there would be consequences. The message was clear, any flagrant criminal behavior is abhorrent and audiences should NOT feel sympathy, primarily through the implicit edict of “compensating moral values.”

Authority figures had to be treated with respect, and the clergy could not be portrayed as comic characters or villains. Under some circumstances, politicians, police officers, and judges could be villains, as long as it was clear that those individuals portrayed as villains were the exceptions to the rule.

Clearly, there were some productive strategies for circumventing the Motion Picture Production Code. They enabled characters that performed behind the veil, under the radar of social acceptability, while dancing a step closer to the fringe. It allowed for ‘queering the screen’. I find it feasible to consider how Alexander Doty points out that ‘queering’ something implies that you are taking a thing that is straight and doing something to it. Rather it should be considered that it’s less about co-opting or subverting films – making things queer, and more about how something might be understood as queer.

It might be easy to read Zasu Pitt’s and Thelma Todd’s relationship, the brilliantly paired comedy twosome, as lovers. While they perform humorous heterosexual man-hunting, they sure seem to be most interested in each other and sure look adorable in their pajamas! I wonder, as Big Daddy says if there’s ‘something missing here’. Below, they are in the film short directed by Hal Roach – On The Loose 1931, with bobbed hair, leaning into each other in bed together, looking awfully intimate.

To be ‘queer’ is also to deconstruct existing norms and ‘destabilize’ them, making it harder to define, so that it is a clear picture of non-normative straight masculinity/femininity.

What was perceptible to those ‘in the life’ were expressions, and gestures, of the term often used by the Hays Code, ‘deviancy.’ One of the things that the Code banned in Clause 6 Section 2 on "Sex" was that "sex perversion or any inference to it is forbidden."

Not that films during the reign of the Code were ripe with queer love stories, of course. There were none to be found beyond the foreign offerings of Oswald’s Different From the Others and Mädchen in Uniform. The most prevalent allusion to being gay was the flamboyant man who was the ambiguous bachelor or fussy asexual husband. If there was anything close to a butch woman, she could be an earthy farmer’s wife, a Marjorie Main or Patsy Kelly type (Both lesbians in real life). A tough-as-nails prison matron, a tyrannical madame, or a risque nightclub owner. Perhaps she’s an embittered heavy drinker or just one of the guys who is a faithful friend to the female lead. Maybe she never gets the guy or hasn’t met the right man. Perhaps she was married to a no-good bum and is off men for good!.. And just sometimes, sometimes it’s because… well some of us would know why!

Thelma Todd joined up with Patsy Kelly in comedy series. Here’s a lobby card for their Babes in the Goods. The two became very good friends during their collaboration.

Patsy Kelly had started in Vaudeville and appeared in Wonder Bar 1931 centered around a Parisian club. Kelly played Elektra Pivonaka and sang two lively songs.

She is known for her ballsy, straight-forward, no-nonsense persona, be it her tough-as-nails nurse Mac in Sam Fuller’s The Naked Kiss (1964) or as Laura-Louise, attending to Rosemary (Mia Farrow) in Roman Polanski’s Rosemary’s Baby (1968). Kelly played very non-feminine roles, injecting a bit of her ‘in the life’ energy into the characters in every one of her roles. More often than not she had an unglamorous reputation as a funny spunky, brassy, wise-cracking gal who played a lot of maids. She was outspoken about being an uncloseted lesbian, which hurt her movie career in the 1940s. But she had been a very successful actress on Broadway, returning to the stage in 1971 winning a Tony Award for No, No Nanette and Irene.

In director/screenwriter Sam Fuller’s sensationalist The Naked Kiss (1964), Patsy Kelly plays Mac the nurse, a hard-edged pussy cat. A no-nonsense nurse who lives for helping children with disabilities, but there is no visible sign that she has the slightest interest in men, aside from a smart-alecky comment about Grant bringing her back a man from Europe. Kelly might have wanted her role as an independent woman with a more offbeat way of stating that she is a tough dyke and expected Fuller to write her into the script that way. Knowing Kelly that’s a good assumption. The film is audacious in its scope for dealing with more than one theme, as taboo as prostitution, abortion, and pedophilia.

The Catholic Legion of Decency used their influence to label gays as ‘sexual deviants’, not be depicted on screen. ‘Deviancy’ was used to refer to any behavior deviating from what was perceived to be normal in terms of romance, sex, and gender. Hays even ordered all ‘Nance’ characters to be removed from screenplays.

The Federation of Women’s Clubs and the Hays Code tried to make symbolic gestures to maintain decency in films. The Legion of Decency was getting pressure from the Catholic Church. So in 1934 came up with A-acceptable B-Morally Objectionable and C-Condemned. Hollywood promised to observe the rules. The various subject matter was restricted to screen-open mouth kissing, lustful embraces, sex perversion, seduction, rape, abortion, prostitution, white slavery, nudity, obscenity, and profanity.

But all this unsolicited attention caused the studios to be watchful of their off-screen personnel, and they also had to be certain that the Los Angeles Police Department received payoffs to keep their mouths shut. Though the lurid and shocking subject matter was no longer tolerated on screen, the studios tried to continue to release their films without the intrusion of the Hays Office, even though from a commercial standpoint, sex sells.

Warner Bros.’ lack of cooperation with the Code until the bitter end and how Paramount, which was cooperative under B. P. Schulberg, decided to be “as daring as possible” under Emmanuel Cohen in 1932 and 1933. At MGM, Irving Thalberg’s resistance only really ended with his heart attack and journey abroad to recover in 1933. As James Wingate, Breen’s SRC predecessor, put things that same year: (Lugowski)

In 1934 Jack Warner ignored Breen’s letter and phone calls about a scene in Wonder Bar (1934) that explicitly demonstrates homoerotic desire. In it, one man cuts in to dance with another man, interrupting a woman who is dancing with her male partner. “May I cut in?”  she responds, “Why certainly,” as the man’s suitor grabs her chaperone to dance instead. The film stars Al Jolson who exclaims, “Boys will be boys!” Breen would later write, “It is quite evident that the gentleman [Warner] is giving me the runaround. He evidently thinks that this is the smart thing to do.” Wonder Bar may have added a flash of queer diversion as part of the entertainment, but it is an incredibly offensive and racist film using a cast who are in Black face.

During the ongoing Depression era, sissy and lesbian characters of the period continued to be screened as effeminate and mannish with one change. They became progressively sexualized between 1933-34. As the Depression moved forward, the Code needed to establish a “suitable” masculinity in film that would satisfy the morality police. They wanted this accepted masculinity to mirror the public art imagery that was now being federally funded by the New Deal in the mid-and late 1930s.

Before 1934 the studios were able to ignore the Code’s denouncement and endeavor to censor the movie industry but Hollywood filmmakers could no longer disregard the regulations issued by the Hays Code. The Legion of Decency forced the MPPDA to assert itself with the Production Code and formed a new agency, the Production Code Administration (PCA). The Hays Code was formed in 1930 but it only began to have a profound impact on Hollywood when the Production Code Administration (PCA) began strictly enforcing it in 1934. The crusade to save America’s purity and squash the filth mongers began a cultural war.

It was a system of moral oversight, conservatives lobbied to enforce, using the PCA to compel the industry to drastically adhere to it. PCA is strongest in explaining how the Code tried to at once repress and enable discourse to appeal to the broadest possible spectrum of viewers and to offend the fewest. (Lugowski)

And in 1937, the Production Code Administration (PCA), handed down Hollywood’s Movie Commandments that decried “No hint of sex perversion may be introduced into a screen story. The characterization of a man as effeminate, or a woman as grossly masculine would be absolutely forbidden for screen portrayal.”

The Code was detailed in two parts that reflected the foundation of Catholic principles. The moral vision and "particular applications a precise listing of forbidden material.”

The code was divided into two parts. The first was a set of “general principles” which prohibited a picture from “lowering the moral standards of those who see it”, so as not to wrongly influence a specific audience of views including, women, children, lower-class, and those of "susceptible" minds, called for depictions of the “correct standards of life”, and lastly forbade a picture to show any sort of ridicule towards a law or “creating sympathy for its violation.

The second part of the Code was a set of “particular applications”, which was an exacting list of items that could not be depicted. Some restrictions, such as the ban on homosexuality or on the use of specific curse words, were never directly mentioned, but were assumed to be understood without clear demarcation. Homosexuals were de facto included under the proscription of sex perversion.” — Wikipedia

The second part of the Code was a ban on homosexuality. Though it was not specifically spelled out, queers were the subject under review of ‘sex perversion.’ Though the Hays office would not stand for "more than a dash of lavender" as long as the representation (especially a non-desirable depiction of homosexuality) was fleeting and incidental. Thus, “Pansy comedy" was tolerable in Pre-Code Hollywood. "Despite the watchful eyes of the Hays Office, the trade paper Variety remarked that Hollywood continued what was called "queer flashes" and “mauve characters" who sashayed through Cavalcade 1933, Our Betters 1932, and Sailor's Luck 1932.

The industry moguls and business offices finally had to follow the rules, clean up the ‘sinful’ screen and adopt a symbol of moral righteousness, that came along with a seal. The Code would be certified by a Code Seal printed on the lobby cards of each Hollywood film. And the seal would be an emblem that would appear on the motion pictures themselves. Any film without a Code Seal would be fined $25,000.

After some revisions, they agreed to the stipulations of the Code. … negotiated cuts from films and there were definite"”albeit loose"”constraints, a significant … against homosexuals, all in clear violation of the Hollywood Production Code.

Any sexual act considered perverted, including any suggestion of same sex relationships, sex, or romance, was ruled out.

Thus, during the Golden Age of Hollywood, the PCA scrutinized and censored, everything coming out of Hollywood and put its seal on each movie released. The Hollywood executives preferred to call it “self-regulation” and feared that censorship by the PCA would be even worse if they tampered with the creative ‘source’ of their product. Because of the studios’ defiance, Roman Catholics formed the National Legion of Decency, which became an influential group that would put Hollywood’s transgressions through the ordeal, of boycotts, picketing theaters, urging Catholics not to patronize these immoral movies or fall “under the pain of sin”, being met by hoards of angry protestors at the gates of the studio. Now religious groups and other moral traditionalists began a warlike campaign for the government to regulate what was shown on the screen.

Mae West: She Done Him Wrong 1933

Also, government officials were bent on making gay people invisible from cinematic narratives and the United States Supreme Court handed down the ruling that filmmakers were not protected by the First Amendment in the matter of free speech. They considered Hollywood to be a powerful mechanism that to exploit ‘sinful’ behavior on the screen and influence American audiences. This laid the groundwork for local governments that could weigh in and ban films from their theaters if they considered them immoral. Hollywood could not afford to lose money at the box office from governmental authorities, by negative publicity, or from the threatening boycotts by rabid church groups.

Motion pictures could be regulated and run out of town by cities, states, and by ominous extension, the federal government.

“After all, censorship had been a fact of creative and commercial life for motion picture producers from the very birth of the medium, when even the modest osculations of the middle-aged lovebirds in Thomas Edison's The Kiss (1896) scandalized cadres of (literally) Victorian ministers, matrons, and other variants of a sour-faced species known as the “bluenose.” By common consent, the artistically vital and culturally disruptive spectacle of the motion picture – an entertainment accessible to all levels of society and degrees of moral temperament, including unassimilated immigrants,impressionable juveniles, and other menacing types – required editorial supervision from more mature, pious, and usually Protestant sensibilities” -from Archives Unbound

Hollywood was in the grip of the Code that saw the ‘dream factory’ movie machine as a Hollywood Babylon. While the powers that be were busy policing the murmuration of taboos, Pre-Code was a brief moment in history, a fruitful period between 1929 to 1934. Hays then appointed someone who could intercede between studio moguls and anti-Hollywood groups, Joseph I. Breen. “The vulgar, the cheap, and the tawdry is out!”

The PCA had been known as the Hays Office but to those in Hollywood, once the oversight became an operation with teeth, it became known as the Breen Office. Breen came in to take over the weak Studio Relations Committee (SRC). The Code consisted of thirty-six rules that informed Hollywood filmmakers to limit the representation of or normalization of subject matter considered by religious groups to be “unsavory or morally corrupt.” The SRC and the PCA were the inner mechanisms within the film industry, shaping the content of the film and heading off any ethical problems the film might encounter before it reached the local censors.

Dorothy Mackaill’s Safe in Hell (1931)

Many scenarios disappeared from the movies by mid-1934: for example, audiences would no longer see women’s navels, couples laying in bed together, murderers going unpunished, an illustration of a bedroom that isn’t merely recognized as a bed chamber. The normalization of drug use, the glamourization of criminal behavior, or not following the law, and of course any overtly revealed gay or lesbian character. After 1934, women would not be sporting short haircuts and tailored suits, confidently smoking cigars. Men toned down the gushy gestures that would be interpreted as flamboyant. Gay men and women were transformed into dowdy spinsters and high-strung bachelors.

What we started to see was an ambiguity, a narrative uncertainty that took the burden of responsibility off of the filmmakers and dropped the perception of the content into the laps of the audience. Since the Code asserted that no picture should lower the moral standards of those who saw it, it was a law that bound Hollywood’s accountability for their plots. Ruth Vasey calls the antithesis of this “the principle of deniability” which refers to the ambiguity of the textual vaguery that shifted the message to the individual spectator. Lugowski cites Lea Jacobs, “Under the Code ‘offensive ideas could survive at the price of an instability of meaning… There was constant negotiation about how explicit films could be and by what means (through the image, sound, language) offensive ideas could find representation.” The studios would have to come up with a structure of ‘representational conventions’, that could be understood by a more sophisticated audience yet would fly over the heads of more inexperienced spectatorship. Though producers felt the sharp sting of the Code as a mechanism of restraint, in terms of ‘queerness’ on screen, film studios could use the leverage of deniability to argue about the interpretation of certain scenes.

Once the limits of explicit “sophistication” had been established, the production industry had to find ways of appealing to both “innocent” and “sophisticated” sensibilities in the same object without transgressing the boundaries of public acceptability. This involved devising systems and codes of representation in which “innocence” was inscribed into the text while “sophisticated” viewers were able to “read into” movies whatever meanings they were pleased to find, so long as producers could use the Production Code to deny that they had put them there. Much of the work of self-regulation lay in the maintenance of this system of conventions, and as such, it operated, however perversely, as an enabling mechanism at the same time that it was a repressive one.-(Documents from the Motion Picture Producers and Distributors of America, Inc., 1922 – 1939)

… by assuming that the social crisis over cinematic representation in the early 1930s was caused by the content of motion pictures. The institution of censorship in Hollywood was not primarily about controlling the content of movies at the level of forbidden words or actions or inhibiting the freedom of expression of individual producers. Rather, it was about the cultural function of entertainment and the possession of cultural power. (Tino Balio: Grand Design Hollywood as a Modern Business Enterprise 1930-1939)

Geoff Shurlock was appointed as acting director of the Production Code in the 1940s and as permanent director in 1954. Over the years, Shurlock would straddle the conflict, appeasing both movie producers, and morality mongers trying to persuade the Association Board that introducing more liberal thinking could protect the PCA from fading away. There were attempts to ease up on the Code, in 1954 he introduced an amendment that would eliminate various taboos, for instance, miscegenation, liquor, and some profane words, but producers felt that there weren’t enough considerations to the amendment and the Catholic Legion of Decency felt that even that much went too far. Shurlock had a tough time making everyone happy.

The 1950s witnessed a weakening of the Production Code to restrict specific representations such as adultery, prostitution, and miscegenation. By the beginning of the 1960s, the only specific restriction left was homosexuality = “sex perversion.”

In the 1960s, filmmakers pressured the Production Code Administration. In the fall of 1961, two films went into production that would deal with homosexual subject matter. William Wyler, who had initially directed Miriam Hopkins and Merle Oberon in These Three (1936), revealed that he was working on a more faithful treatment of Lillian Hellman’s play The Children’s Hour; that dealt overtly with the love that dare not speak it’s named. Around the same time director Otto Preminger began to adapt Allen Drury’s political novel Advise and Consent 1962, which delves into the lives of Senatorial candidates that uncovers controversial secrets, including Don Murray’s homosexual encounter.

Throughout Preminger’s career, he challenged the restrictions of the Code and eventually influenced their decision to allow homosexuality to be shown on screen. Also fighting to change the stifling rules was Arthur Krim, president of United Artists, who threatened to ignore the Code and release the film without the mandatory “seal of approval” forcing them to amend it’s ideological strangle hold.

On October 3, 1961, the Production Code Administration backed off: “In keeping with the culture, the mores and values of our time, homosexuality and other sexual aberrations may now be treated with care, discretion, and restraint.”

In order to maintain control of the Administration’s power at least in terms of how homosexuals were portrayed on film, they insisted that the subject be infused with medical overtones, to show it as an ‘illness’. Sympathy or illness in psychological terms, were two key factors. The Code’s changed the use of the word “sex perversion” and replaced it with “homosexuality.”

Don Murray –gay bar scene in Advise and Consent 1962

Another interesting shift was that they owned up to the fact that “mores and values of our time” were changing whether they liked it or not, people were becoming more in touch with the freedom to express their sexuality, society was becoming more permissive, the love generation was upon them and sexual representation was a fearless exploration reflected by a new generation of filmgoers.

Otto Preminger was the only major producer able to successfully release films without the Production Code’s Seal of Approval. He defied the Code (Hadleigh) with movies like Advise and Consent (1961) The Man with Golden Arm (1955) Anatomy of a Murder (1959) Wendell Mayes said “Look at the record–you’ll discover that many of the changes in the Code were a result of Otto Preminger breaking the rules”

Though the Code had been revised in 1961 to open up the door for portrayals of gays on screen, the sissy effete and predatory dyke took on a more sinister role. Because they had been hidden in plain sight using symbology that hinted at either failed masculinity or women performing masculinity. When the MPPA rating system was established in 1968 gays on screen were starting to kick the doors open but what was awaiting them was an even crueler denouement than during the reign of the Code. Queers were now portrayed as suicidal, predatory, or homicidal maniacs. And much like the coded gay characters under the Production Code, things moved very slowly in terms of progress for positive representations of being ‘queer.’

Dirk Bogarde and Dennis Price in Basil Dearden’s brave film Victim (1961)

Between January and June 1962, five films were released that dealt with homosexuality, almost as many as in the previous three decades. One did not receive a seal of approval from the Production Code Administration but was released nonetheless. Even without the seal of approval, British director, Basil Dearden’s Victim (1961) was reviewed in all the publications being considered. The liberal Catholic magazine Commonweal even disagreed with the Production Code Administration’s claim that the film made pleas ‘for social acceptance of the homosexual.’ “63 Still, the consensus among reviewers was that of the Production Code Administration and society at large: films should not and, for the most part, did not condone homosexuality. (Noriega)

This ban applied to all characters attracted to the same gender or characters who differed in their gender presentation or identity. While nudity and violence were quickly reintegrated into film canon following the abandonment of the Production Code, LGBT characters remained taboo. For decades after LGBT characters were allowed to appear in films, their sexuality and gender was shrouded in thinly-veiled innuendos and visual cues. If a character was to be openly same-gender attracted or transgender, they would be gruesomely killed or presented as morally corrupted. (Cleghorn)

Like the Code’s authors, film critics tend to examine the film itself, and not the discursive acts that surround a film and play a sometimes central role shaping its meaning(s). Contemporary gay and lesbian film criticism of Production Code era films operates on the same principle, with the added limitations that historical evidence and homosexual “images” censored. Thus, in order to ensure “the survival of subcultural identity within an oppressive society,” gay and lesbian film critics have employed a wide range of interpretive strategies to recuperate a history of homosexual images from the censored screen. The emphasis, therefore, has been on “subtexting” censored films from a singular presentist perspective. (Sophie Cleghorn)

Sources:

*Mike Mashon & James Bell for Pre-Code Hollywood Before the Censors-BFI  Sight & Sound Magazine (April 2019)

*Archives Unbound (1http://gdc.gale.com/archivesunbound/)

*Sophie Cleghorn: The Hollywood Production Code of 1930 and LGBT Characters.

*Wikipedia-Pre-Code

*David Lugowski-Queering the (New) Deal)

*Chon Noriega

During the period of Pre-Code, queer humor appeared in films such as Just Imagine (1930) and The Warrior’s Husband (1933). The male characters were feminized because of their affinity for writing poetry. This asserted that they must be queer.

The Warrior’s Husband directed by Walter Lang, is a film primarily cast with women. Yet the air of queerness permeates throughout because the women, featuring a butch Queen, are Amazons. Gender is inverted and several other female rulers cross-dress and exude a lesbian vibe. It is inhabited by independent women and swishy men who camped it up as ‘queens’ amusing themselves by flirting with all the good-looking men.

The Warrior’s Husband image courtesy Peplums Blogspot.com

Like so much self deemed culturally aberrant, the homosexual appears with greater frequency and readier acceptance in Pre-Code Hollywood cinema "The thirties was surprisingly full of fruity character comedians and gravel-voice bulldyke character comediennes" film critic Andrew Sarris observed in his touchstone study The American Cinema "but it was always played so straight that when ((character actors) Franklin Pangborn or Cecil Cunningham went into their routines, it was possible to laugh without being too sophisticated." Maybe in the later thirties the homosexual was played straight but in the Pre-Code era, he and she was playing queer. No sophistication was needed to read the same sex orientations as gender disorientations.- Pre-Code Hollywood; Sex, Immorality and Insurrection in American Cinema 1930-1934 by Thomas Doherty.

Miriam Hopkins got the part of free-spirited Gilda in Ernst Lubitsch’s Design for Living 1933. This original Noël Coward play actually featured a Ménage à Trois between the three Bohemian lovebirds in Paris in the decadent thirties. The film also starred Gary Cooper as artist George Cooper and Fredric March as playwright Tom Chambers. The liberated Gilda becomes the girl both men fall in love with. The three make a pact to keep their mutual attractions platonic, but that doesn’t last too long, and they each begin a sexual relationship. When George comes back from a trip to Nice, he finds that Tom has taken up with Gilda. “I can’t believe I loved you both.”

Ben Hecht's screenplay didn’t have a trace of any of Coward’s romantic relationship between George and Tom. Ernst Lubitsch, known for his sophisticated style, directed memorable witty interactions between all four players. Edward Everett Horton as Max Plunkett plays Miriam's bland suitor. Horton is, as usual, a whimsical idiosyncratic delight to watch. And Franklin Pangborn Mr. Douglas, Theatrical Producer is a perfect theatrical queen who is thoroughly annoyed when Gilda approaches him in the restaurant about Tom’s (Fredric March) play “Good Night Bassington”, as she leaves him with this thought, “There, read it, I’m sure you’ll adore it, it’s a woman’s play…”

Al Jolson “Boys will be boys” Wonder Bar (1934)

Any portrayal of on-screen “sex perversion” or homosexuality, even those connected with various tropes of ‘deviant’ sexual behavior were restricted after the enforcement of the Production Code in 1934.

Lending the Code moral authority even within the limits of pure love, asserted the Code delicately certain facts have been universally regarded by lawmakers as outside the limits of safe presentation Father Lord and Mr. Quigley saw no need to defile the document by typesetting long lists of "pointed profanity" or "vulgar expressions" Likewise, the prohibition against homosexuality dared not speak the name, but it didn't need to spell it out. "Impure Love" the love which society has always regarded as wrong and which has been named by divine law"¦ must not be presented as attractive or beautiful."-Pre-Code Hollywood; Sex, Immorality and Insurrection in American Cinema 1930-1934 by Thomas Doherty.

Different From the Others (1919) Conrad Veidt and Fritz Schulz two musicians in love — during the period of Pre-Code.

But, outside of the United States, films were a little more adventurous. Austrian director Richard Oswald’s film bravely shows two men in love. The “third sex” was eventually mocked. One of the earliest films to feature two men in love was the 1919 silent film from Germany,  Different From the Others. Director Richard Oswald's story of two male musicians in love had a typical unhappy ending, but it depicted gay people in a positive light. The film condemned the German law known as Paragraph 175, which outlawed gay behavior. Different Than the Others was censored soon after it was released. Starring Conrad Veidt it is considered the first pro-gay film.

Joseph Breen viewed any meaningful treatment of queer cinema as perverted. Conrad Veidt also gave an emotionally evocative role in The Man Who Laughs 1928, playing a violinist who falls for his student and is then blackmailed for it. The rising Nazi party in Germany attempted to erase these films from the screen, and this made Oswald flee to America.

But, the Hays Code made certain that no films of this type would be seen in the United States. Even books and plays with gay, lesbian, or bisexual narratives were reworked and any content related to the subject was erased in order to meet the social code of the time.

Other non-American films included Dreyer’s Michael (1924) and Mädchen in Uniform (1931) directed by Leontine Sagan and again in (1958) with Lilli Palmer as Fräulein Elisabeth von Bernburg and Romy Schneider as Manuela von Meinhardis. And Viktor Und Viktoria (1933) directed by Reinhold Schünzel.

Mädchen in Uniform (1931) was directed by Leotine Sagan, and starred Dorothea Wieck and Hertha Thiele.

William Dieterle’s Pre-Code German film Sex in Chains (1928) stars the director as Franz Sommer a man sent to prison for manslaughter who, though longing for his wife, develops a close relationship with his cellmate. A fellow inmate informs Franz that he’s “lived to see someone unman himself, just so he could finally sleep.”

In 1927, during the Pre-Code period, director William Wellman’s Wings won an Academy Award for Best Picture, and it also depicted the first gay kiss between two men in American cinema.

Wings follows two Air Force pilots in World War I, Jack (Charles ‘Buddy’ Rogers and Dave (Richard Arlen) who at first rivals for the affections of the beautiful Mary (Clara Bow) before they discover the underlying love they begin to feel for each other. During a boxing match at training camp gets too rough and Jack knocks Dave bloody and silly. Dave gazes up at Jack with an epiphany and the two walk off arm and arm as close ‘buddies’. The relationship is referred to as friendship, but the film paints a picture of two men falling in love.

Dave is mortally wounded in combat at the end of the picture, Jack embraces his dying ‘friend’ with a tender yet impassioned kiss while Mary looks on, framed with her on the outside looking in. Wellman humanizes the men's close relationship in this scene when Jack leans into Dave to embrace him as he dies. He lets him know that nothing has meant more to him than their relationship. The moment feels sympathetic instead of exploitative, yet he mourns Dave’s death. And though it is tinged with homoerotic elements, the case can always be made that it is a story about war, which brought two men closer together.

The Knocking Knees dance. Horton’s homosexuality – comedic, subtle, and acceptable in The Gay Divorcee (1934)

In The Gay Divorcee (1934) crossing the threshold is the archetypal ‘Sissy’, Edward Everett Horton. Marginalized audiences were looking to the movies for any indication of the familiar, any little crumbs left as a trail to be picked up. For instance, there is a moment in Johnny Guitar, the fiercely burning with sensual brawn, Joan Crawford. Bigger than life up on that screen, androgynous in her black cowboy shirt, strides down the stairs, gun in her holster waiting to confront coded dyke, Mercedes McCambridge. Many women’s chests, mine included, heaved a little with delight. That flutter of excitement hit us again when Doris Day sings the sentimental “Secret Love” in Calamity Jane (1953).

In Myrt and Marge (1934) Ray Hedges plays the flaming stagehand Clarence Tiffingtuffer he’s told “Here put this in the trunk and don’t wear it” speaking about one of the show girls costumes. In his boldly effete manner “If we got the runs on the show, the way the girls got in their stockings, I could put the 2nd down payment on my Kimono.”

Clara Bow, Willard Robertson, and Estelle Taylor in Call Her Savage (1932)

From Call Her Savage 1932 purportedly the first on-screen gay bar.

In director William Wyler’s These Three (1936) the relationship between Miriam Hopkin’s Martha and Merle Oberon’s Karen was delicately subtle and though to mainstream audiences might be seemingly obvious to interpret as two women attracted to the male lead, Joel McCrea. It revised Hellman’s play that centered around Martha’s love that dare not speak its name, for Karen. Sam Goldwyn bought the rights to Lillian Hellman’s play The Children’s Hour, a story depicting the supposed ‘carryings-on’ of two female teachers at a private school for girls. Though, These Three on its face is the story of a love triangle between two women and a man, it could read as Martha being more uncomfortable with the presence of Dr. Cardin (McCrea) because he is intruding on her closed relationship with Karen. The later screenplay adapted into the film, The Children’s Hour (1961) directed by William Wyler, was boldly more explicit and revealed the true nature of Martha’s predicament and her struggle with her love for Karen.

These Three (1936) Merle Oberon and Miriam Hopkins.

The Children’s Hour (1961) Shirley MacLaine and Audrey Hepburn.

Coded characters in the film were on the screen relaying messages and signaling to those of us who understand and who are “in the life: that movies can reflect the existence of a queer reality. These representations were not necessarily positive, but films showed evidence that we exist. You would see it in a revealing gesture, or an air of difference about them, though it would be inconspicuous to audiences that were unaware of the cues.

Continue reading “Chapter 2 – Queers and Dykes in the Dark: Classic, Noir & Horror Cinema’s Coded Gay Characters:”

Once Upon a Screen… A Hoot and a Holler: James Whale's THE OLD DARK HOUSE (1932) at 86

Aurora over at Once Upon a Screen… offers a wonderful & witty tribute to James Whale’s campy Old Dark House themed film The Old Dark House that set the trend for Old Dark House movies!

Last night Aurora, myself and my girl Wendy had the thrilling pleasure of sitting side by side, popcorn in hand and funny & intelligent yet respectfully quiet commentary in the darkness of a traditional cathedral of film (one of the 5 original movie palaces in the NYC area). A truly great theatre –The Landmark Jersey City Loews for a James Whale/Boris Karloff dynamic double feature. They showcased the 35mm prints of the sublimely brilliant Kenneth Strickfaden-filled laboratory designs, and Composer Franz Waxman’s exhilarating score for The Bride of Frankenstein 1935 and The Old Dark House 1932. Both with outstanding cast members and characters alike! Including the live pipe organist who is there for all of these wonderful events! So without any further hold up…

Head over to the most informative, funny and heartfelt blog and get yourself a Halloween slice of joy, and while you’re at it… “Have a potato!” haha Ernest Thesiger gets me every time he says those three little words as only he can deliver…

A Hoot and a Holler: James Whale's THE OLD DARK HOUSE (1932) at 86

Your EverLovin MonsterGirl sayin’ if you live in the Tri-State area please help keep this historic movie palace alive, they offer a wonderful night’s entertainment and thank you Aurora of Once Upon a Screen… for being the best movie pal!