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Glossy Grand Guignol, Universal horror in MGM guise. Le Théâtre des Horreurs is a hot Parisian spot, its leading lady (Frances Drake) endures unspeakable punishments for love on stage. A faithful fan drinks in the spectacle every night from the balcony box, the morbid surgeon named after the author of "Viy" and "A Terrible Vengeance," one of Peter Lorre's most unforgettable crazies. "Did you ever hear of Galatea?" He must do with a wax effigy of his beloved until her husband (Colin Clive) is caught in a train accident, replacing the composer's mangled hands becomes the doctor's obsessive project. (As the knife-throwing murderer donating the appendages, Edward Brophy has a moving bit contemplating the guillotine on his final minute: "Boy. Ain't that something.") Hopelessly clumsy on the piano, the new mitts prove alarmingly adroit with blades. "They want to kill." The greatest Tod Browning film not directed by Tod Browning, Karl Freund does the honors in a hallucinatory follow-up to The Mummy. Wiene's previous version is streamlined for sheer perversity, from the fist that smashes the glassy opening titles to the climactic intercutting between the heroine getting strangled and the police riding to the rescue ("Don't drive so fast, there's no hurry"). Gogol the egghead, stirred equally by Elizabeth Barrett Browning verses and by Napoleon's refusal of the word "impossible." (Pushing his rival into madness, he dons metallic limbs, neck brace, goggles and rasp and in the process invents Dr. Strangelove.) The tippling servant (May Beatty) staggers in the wings with cockatoo on shoulder, the American journo (Ted Healy) is at hand to provide undue sensationalism. "Power of suggestion!" Godard in Détective reworks the image of hands on the keyboard. With Sara Haden, Henry Kolker, Keye Luke, and Billy Gilbert. In black and white.
--- Fernando F. Croce |