THE MOST DANGEROUS GAME (1932)

Day #I've stopped counting to be honest.

Whilst whistling a jaunty yet unfamiliar tune as I shaved myself in the igloo mirror this morning, I couldn't help feeling a sense of foreboding, a sense that something just... wasn't quite right. I looked at my reflection peering out at me through the grubby glass and noticed a small cut on my upper lip. Carefully, I dabbed it with my handkerchief. My reflection didn't, and continued to whistle that unfamiliar tune. Then I realised why the tune was so unfamiliar and I had that sense of foreboding - I can't whistle!

I was given no opportunity to ponder this fact however, as my reflection stuck a fist out of the mirror and punched me square in the face, round about where my nose used to be. "Here's something that doesn't happen every day." I remember thinking to myself as I collapsed unconscious on the floor.

When I came to I was strapped to my bed with my assailant standing over me.

"Dammit, he's good looking!" I thought to myself as I asked him "Who the hell are you?"

"You really don't remember, Basil?" replied my attractive attacker. "What on earth have they done to you? I'm Sean Berman. Your twin brother."

This place gets more like a far-fetched pulp horror novel every day...

And... Basil? What kind of name is that?

"Hey, this TV actually works!" I heard my stunningly handsome twin say as I slipped back into sweet unconsciousness...

THE MOST DANGEROUS GAME (1932)






The Most Dangerous Game is the first ever celluloid example of one of my favourite horror sub-genres - humans hunting humans!

However, I don't think that the title is particularly apt when you consider that:

A) Humans aren't as dangerous as leopards or tigers really, are they? Oh, I know that humans have greater intelligence and have done more damage to the planet than any other living creature, but If I was walking through the jungle with a hunting rifle I'd rather come face-to-face with, say, Billy Ray Cyrus than a pissed off panther. But that's probably just me...

and

B) Is hunting humans really 'The Most Dangerous Game'? What about Snakes & Ladders with real snakes and rickety ladders that have random rungs missing? What about Hungry Hippos with real Hippos? I'm sure there are many other examples.

But I digress. We're in a small passenger ship traversing through dangerous waters as we meet our hero Bob Rainsford, a hunter by trade. One of Bob's chums engages him in a philosophical discussion along the lines of, "Who is the real savage, man who hunts for pleasure or the beast who hunts for necessity? What would you do if the roles were reversed?"

Bob laughs this off with a "Ha, that'll never happen to me! Never happen! Why, what possible set of circumstances could ever..." CRASH!!!! "What was that noise?"

It was the ship crashing. It sinks.

Bob and the captain are the only survivors!

A shark eats the captain.

Bob is the only survivor!

Somehow he manages to swim ashore unharmed. After wandering around for a bit he spots civilisation in the shape of a large, forbidding looking mansion.

The door creaks open and Bob steps inside. A hairy, scary man appears from behind the door. Bob tries to engage him in polite conversation but gets blanked, much to his annoyance. It never seems to register with Bob that this guy might not actually speak English, so thank goodness for the appearance of Count Zaroff to explain that Bob is speaking to Ivan who not only can't speak English but can't speak, being as he is that classic horror film staple, a mute man-servant.



Ivan is actually played by the African-American actor Noble Johnson - making this the earliest known example of a black actor play a Caucasian character.

Count Zaroff cuts a fine figure, I must say. Perfectly groomed facial hair, elegantly tailored suit and with a cigarette holder held just so.



He's foppish and he's fey and has impeccable manners, as he cordially welcomes Bob to his humble abode and has Ivan show him to a room, explaining that he has other guests who have also been shipwrecked. It would appear that Bob has had a stroke of luck finding the mansion. Count Zaroff seems like a really nice guy.



He's quite insane, of course.

Bob freshens himself up (luckily this was the 1930s, in the days before people got traumatised by being in disasters and getting chased by sharks) and meets his fellow shipwreckees; an annoying drunk called Martin Towbridge and his distinctly unannoying sister Eve Towbridge, played by the stunning Fay Wray.




Naturally, Bob makes a beeline for Eve.

Eve seems somewhat unhappy with the situation, and we see Bob surreptitiously sniff his armpit. But it turns out that it's Count Zaroff that is worrying Eve. "Two of our party have gone missing! They were last seen entering Count Zaroff's trophy room!"

"Hic! I'm going with Count Zaroff to his trophy room!" shouts her drunken brother, cheerily.

"Stop bothering me Martin, I'm trying to explain to Bob about people going missing!" she replies.

Anyway, Martin is never seen again. Bob and Eve search for him later that night, and creep into the trophy room. It's full of heads. Human heads!

"Something's not quite right here..." thinks Bob, but he has no time to piece the clues together as Zaroff and Ivan burst in and tie Bob and Eve up.

Zaroff helpfully explains the situation which we knew anyway - Zaroff likes hunting humans. But he recognises Bob as a fellow hunter and asks him if he'd like to join him in his horrifying human hunting hobby. Bob says no, one thing leads to another and before you know it Bob and Eve are running for their lives through the jungle (which you'll recognise as being the same jungle used in King Kong. You may also have recognised the screams of the shipwrecked sailors being the same as the screams of the equally unlucky sailors shaken off a log by Kong).

I almost forgot the rules - If Bob and Eve last until dawn, they're free to go. And Bob's been given a knife. That's all.

"Oh I'm slowing you up I shouldn't have came!" shouts Eve as they come to the edge of a cliff. You can see that Bob is thinking that she's right and he'd have been better off without her, but being a gentleman he keeps quiet about it.

Bob sets a couple of clever traps but Zaroff equally cleverly evades them, the clever count!



He's right behind Bob and Eve now and sets his dogs on Bob! Bob manages to fight one off, but here comes another one! And it's a big bitch!

The remaining few minutes of the film are pretty damn exciting and full of incident. Perhaps I'm being over-cautious in not wishing to give away spoilers for a film that's over 80-years old, but look, it's only an hour long. You should really watch it. And because it's Public Domain I can post a link to the full version here (I think) for your viewing pleasure. So here it is. Enjoy:


Watch The Most Dangerous Game

MYSTERY OF THE WAX MUSEUM (1933)

Day #26

On my daily trek I notice a polar bear and a penguin sitting together – surely they’re from completely different continents?

In my excitement I forgot about the fact that a polar bear would probably tear me limb for limb, and rush to meet them.

The mystery is solved. The Polar Bear and penguin are but mere drawings on a large white canvas. On the back is written these cryptic words, “On the outside grows the furside, on the inside grows the skinside.”

Someone is toying with me. Someone is watching me. In the name of God, what can it all mean???

MYSTERY OF THE WAX MUSEUM (1933)


Mystery of the Wax Museum was remade in 1953 with exactly the same story but a different title, ‘House of Wax’.
‘House of Wax’ was remade in 2005 with exactly the same title but a completely different story.

Go figure… can a film be a remake if it’s a completely different story? And if it has Paris Hilton in it? Answers on a postcard to the usual address please…

In the meantime we’re in London, where Lionel Atwill is a wonderful sculptor of wax figures. When his employer sets fire to his museum for the insurance money, he’s understandably a bit miffed. The two have a fight amongst the flames. It’s a rather wonderful fight - real knockabout stuff as the wax figures melt and the sculptor and his dreams disappear…

A few short years later and we’re in modern day 1930’s Noo Yoik! A brand new Wax Museum is being opened by Lionel Atwill, now in a wheelchair with horribly burned and useless hands. The waxworks look as good as ever though. Maybe too good, as some of them are uncannily similar to the visages of recently dead people. Recently dead people whose bodies have been stolen from the City Morgue (or ‘Da City Moig’ as they say in the film).

I’ve read praise being heaped on Atwill’s subtle and nuanced performance in this movie but I’m afraid I much prefer Mr Vincent Price's later portrayal in House of Wax. Atwill is so subtle that he doesn’t actually do much until the gripping finale when he kicks off big time. Vinny is much more memorable. More theatrical and dynamic. I like my bad guys theatrical and dynamic.

And Fay Wray is gorgeous, but not an especially amazing actress on this showing - although she gives good scream as ever, especially when she cracks the mask of Atwill (I should probably try and remember his charcter's name)and discovers the horrifying sight that lurks underneath!

Thank God for Glenda Farrell then, playing feisty blonde bombshell reporter Florence Dempsey.

She MAKES the movie she does, playing her part with such joyous energy that she almost single-handedly gives the movie its sense of drama, urgency and fun. If the scene's got her in it, then we're instantly caught up in the story. Without her, we're suddenly reminded that we're watching a very old movie...

She can talk. Boy, the girl can talk! It’s one of those 100 mile per hour voices that they just don’t do any more. Apparently she was renowned for it, and could speak 400 words a minute. It’s a joy to watch. The scenes with her and her editor Joe, an almost-but-not-quite-as fast-talking Noo Yoiker are great, as they both prattle on to each other about… well about stuff that makes no apparent sense:

Florence: As I live and breathe and wear spats - the prince!
Jim: You been doing experiments with scotch and soda again?
Florence: Where'd you get that news item, from a little bird?
Jim: Yeah, have a pleasant vacation?
Florence: Charming, more delightful people crippled.

I mean, like huh???

Here’s another wonderful Florence quote that had me scratching my head:

Florence: [describing the disfigured man’s appearance] And that face , it was like an African war mask.
Detective: You mean he was coloured?
Florence: I don't know what he was , but he made Frankenstein look like a lily.

Bearing in mind that Mystery of the Wax Museum came out only a couple of short years after Frankenstein, I suppose this line may have been received as a topical, witty gag by audiences. If you can remember, drop me a line...

Mystery of the Wax Museum is definitely a classic, and it was considered lost until the 1960’s, we should be extremely grateful for the chance to watch it.

You’ll find Mystery of the Wax Museum as an extremely generous extra on the House of Wax (1953) DVD. You’ll enjoy both. Add ‘Carry on Screaming’ for a triple bill and you'll be 'frying tonight'!

SON OF FRANKENSTEIN (1939)

I recommend watching this as a double bill with 'Young Frankenstein'. Son of Frankenstein MUST SURELY have been the one Mel Brooks had in mind most when creating his hilarious horror homage - so there are lots of lovely matching moments to look out for; secret compartments, mad assistants, portraits of dead dads, locals with pitchforks, a wooden-armed policeman... to name but a few.

Not to mention some huge, impressive knockers!

Rathbone's turn as Wolf Frankenstein is terrific. Manic, over the top and bloody funny. Watch it and you'll begin to realise that Gene Wilder's performance in Young Frankenstein wasn't all that far-fetched.

And then there's Karloff and Lugosi...

Horror Tip #753: Never hire an assistant called Ygor, Igor or a derivative thereof. It'll end in trouble.

Lugosi has rarely been better in this role as Ygor, the devious, cunning, horrible, smelly (probably) assistant that has an uncanny hold over the monster. It's all in the pipes, you see.



Son of Frankenstein may not top the original 'Frankenstein' or 'Bride', but throw me into a pit of sulphur and call me Ygor if it isn't still great fun. Rathbone is a joy to watch as his deperation takes hold and things descend to something resembling high farce, what with him bolting around his castle with a one-armed policeman hot on his trail. Terrific stuff. Added to the sense of farce is the fact that when Wolf's wife is shouting his name, it sounds like she's shouting "Woof!". Well, it made me laugh anyway...

And it's done in a wonderful setting. The castle looks stunning, all deep shadows and crazy angles. Why, there's not a straight line in the place! Enough to drive anyone mad.

Finally, there's a cheering crowd at the train station, and a happy ending to enjoy - until the train pulls out the station and you think, "Hang on, why aren't they arresting him?". Best not to worry too much about it though. Just sit back enjoy Son of Frankenstein - and those impressive knockers!

THE BLACK CAT (1934)

Some Americans travelling in Europe are forced to spend the night with some locals. This results in them being drugged, assaulted and kidnapped for the benefit of an elite club. The movie ends with someone being skinned alive for our viewing pleasure.

Yes, that’s right gentle reader – more than 80 years before ‘Hostel’ appeared, ‘The Black Cat’ was titillating and horrifying audiences with what can only be described as Torture Porn. So it turns that Eli Roth may not be responsible for the decay of western civilisation’s morals after all – who would have thunk it?



The Black Cat is a horrifying, terrificaly twisted little Poe tale where we’re treated to Karloff and Lugosi squaring off against each other, without monster make-up for a change(although Karloff does appear to have been a bit heavy handed with the mascara brush).

Lugosi brings real depth to a complex character bent on revenge, struggling to maintain his sanity, but also fundamentally a good man. Karloff’s character, on the other had, is a complete bastard.



The scene where they play chess for the right of the innocent heroine, as her newly-wed hubby watches blissfully unaware, is loaded with tension. The dynamite hidden under the foundations of the house is loaded with tension too…

We then proceed to some devil-worshipping shenanigans, where Karloff gets all diabolical on an altar in front of a crowd of ardent followers (where did they come from?)...

At the risk of spoiling the ending, I'll just say that the hero and heroine manage to escape certain doom and are last seen on a train, speeding to safety (another similarity with 'Hostel', of course). And in case you hadn't guessed, the reference to loads of dynamite being buried under the house has an impact.

Horror Rule #465: All great Horror movies end with an exploding or burning house.

THE MUMMY (1932)

The Mummy is like the White Album. As a youngster, I found it too old, too strange and out of touch with MY world (The Omen, Lost Boys, American Werewolf, Phantasm, Grifter Bikes, Jet Set Willy) to really get into it, to really understand it's beauty. But over time, as I became more mature (maybe not mature - older then) I learned to truly love and appreciate it. I still wish they hadn't let Ringo sing that song about being in a car crash and losing all his hair though. That last sentence applies to The White Album only.

The Mummy is a haunting, romantic classic from a bygone world that we can only catch glimpses of through monochromatic ghosts - feel the breath of the dying silent-movie era on its shoulder as it weaves its hypnotic spell.

Not sure where that last sentence came from. Anyway, The Mummy, as I've said, is a romantic story - with many, many plot similarities to Universal's Dracula movie of the previous year. In both, we have a romantic undead anti-hero trying to get his undead hands on a beautiful heroine. The beautiful heroine's proper human beau (not undead) pursues his undead love rival with help of a talisman, and a wise old expert. In Dracula, it's Van Helsing, in The Mummy, it's Dr. Muller. In both, it's the legendary actor Edward Van Sloan playing the part.

Karloff dominates. His make-up (courtesy of Jack Pierce of course) is magnificent, both as 'The Mummy', and minus the bandages as the sinister but apparently human Ardath Bey. The make-up on the latter is beautifully understated, subtle and spot-on. Somehow he looks like a guy who's been stuck in the sand for thousands of years. And he's bloody scary looking. The POV shot of him 'working his mojo'(or the Ancient Egyptian equivalent) is an iconic image...



... and you won't find many of them in the 1999 'version'.

What more is there to be said? If your last memory of 'The Mummy' involves Brendan Fraser battling 'The Rock' then you know what you need to do. Relax, sit yourself down and take a step back in time... to one of those that they just don't make any more.