BY HANK REINEKE
OK, let’s start this review by stating an obvious and
oft-repeated criticism. The actress
Maria Montez was a skillful, if somewhat shameless, self-promoter; her primary asset
wasn’t talent but beauty. In her desperate
search for stardom, Montez arrived in New York City from the Dominican
Republic, leaving behind an otherwise uncelebrated life as wife of a bank
manager. Montez did a bit of modeling at
first - even appearing in such widely-distributed magazines as LIFE - but a Hollywood
career remained her primary target. She managed
to secure a screen-test for RKO pictures, but was quickly scooped up by
Universal in 1940 who thought her “exotic†features might prove useful to them.
She mostly appeared as a supporting
player in the years 1940-1941, but emerged in 1942 as a full-fledged star. She became, for a time, the “Queen of
Technicolor,†an honor bestowed on her due to her appearances in a string of sumptuously
photographed, escapist B-movie adventure entertainments.
Her first big taste of success followed her appearance in
Arabian Nights (1942), but while she achieved
top-bill status on the marquee, her on-screen time was unusually brief for a featured
player. There was a reason for this, of
course. The memories of many of the
actors and filmmakers who worked with her would share similar reminiscences. Though they all agreed she photographed
wonderfully, most conceded Montez simply couldn’t act or sing or dance. Her male admirers sitting in darkened
theaters often felt cheated by the brevity of her screen time. But the softball roles assigned to her, to
say it most politely, were purposefully undemanding
as a matter of practicality. What Montez
did possess, aside from her God-given beauty, was a combination of ego-centrism
and moxey that was uncommon… even when measured against the copious self-regard
exemplified by most of Hollywood’s most famous Divas.
With the provocative title of Cobra Woman, aficionados of Golden Age Horror might be seduced into
thinking the flick is a borderline genre film. It most certainly is not,
the film having more in common with the chapter-serials of the 1940s than with
the barrage of 65-minute second-feature chillers and mysteries that Universal would
churn out with regularity. The presence of Lon Chaney Jr. in the cast,
not top-billed but still featured prominently in all of the film’s advertising,
might also lead one into thinking this is a minor – if mostly forgotten -
horror classic. As the mysterious servant Hava, Chaney actually enjoys very
little screen time and is given almost nothing to do aside from appearing menacing
whenever on screen.
Though Chaney flits in and out of the film, it is likely not
a part he was particularly enamored of having been gifted; his character is little
more than a hulking mute here, described as a “giant†by Sabu (Sabu Dastagir). Since he’s mute throughout Chaney is tasked
to gesticulate to convey emotion and intention: it’s fair to say the actor is
unable to convincingly pantomime in the style of his silent film star father,
Lon Sr. This is not Lon Jr.’s fault, really, as his character is strictly
one-dimensional. The actor may have been wasted in this role, but Chaney could
hardly complain. He would appear in no fewer than eight films release by
Universal in 1944… with this one, arguably, being the least.
Though the dashing and handsome Jon Hall is at best dimly
remembered by few others than fans of cult films of the 1940s and 1950s, his
most famous roles were the ones in which he was paired (or, perhaps, saddled)
with co-star Montez. A former free-agent actor contracted by Universal,
Hall was groomed to play the heroic leading man in such films as Invisible Agent (1942) and The Invisible Man’s Revenge (1944).
But his most memorable roles were played out here in the studio’s splashy
Technicolor - but budget-strapped - adventure films. He would eventually
be paired with Montez in no fewer than six films.
The storyline of Cobra
Woman is unpretentious jungle-adventure fare in its construction. Hall (as Ramu) is living on an island
paradise, where he is soon be betrothed to the lovely Tollea (Montez). On the day of the wedding, Tollea disappears,
all signs pointing toward an abduction and transfer to nearby “Cobra Island.†Determined to reunite with his bride-to-be, Ramu
sails off to the island with Kado (Sabu) as stowaway. Though both men have been warned that no one
who has sailed off to visit Cobra Island has ever returned, the pair take their
chances in her rescue. Ramu chances to
meet the High Priestess of the island, Naja (also portrayed by Montez) during
her afternoon swim in a local lagoon. He
actually believes the Priestess is his beloved Tollea as they are identical
twins. He soon learns otherwise.
No matter how beautiful on the outside, the Priestess Naja
is actually a sadistic, unfeeling tyrant who, with an assist from the evil Martok
(Edgar Barrier), rules with an iron-fist over the island and its inhabitants. The two especially enjoy sacrificing local girls
– usually the prettiest ones - to the angry gods of the “Fire Mountain.†We
learn that Tollea has been brought to the island not under the orders of Naja,
but through the secret machinations of the island’s elderly Queen mother. The Queen has brought the good-hearted Tollea
to Cobra Island in an attempt to depose her evil sister and once again bring
harmony and tranquility to this tropical paradise.
A popular pin-up girl of U.S. GI’s bravely fighting the
fascists during WWII, Montez’s talents are, as recounted earlier, somewhat fragile. Her acting is less than enchanting though her
infamous “Cobra Dance†- dressed in full iconographic Cobra regalia and
headdress - certainly provides cinemagoers with a genuine experience… of a
sort. It is, without doubt, an
entertaining exercise in choreography, but it’s a laughable sequence recalled
and cherished for all the wrong reasons. One can only offer Julia Louis-Dreyfus’ “Elaine Benes†stilted dance
moves from Seinfeld as comparison,
perhaps minus the short kicks.
Montez’s only real asset, again, is her natural
beauty. Director Robert Siodmak and
cinematographers W. Howard Greene and George Robinson were obviously aware of
Montez’s limited range as an actress. To
compensate, their film provides no shortage of portrait-photography-style close-ups
of the actress, their cameras lingering long and lovingly on her exquisite
face. And since she appears here in dual
roles, there are a lot of opportunities for such wistful close-ups, tiring as they
soon become.
The dialogue of screenwriters Gene Lewis and Richard
Brooks is unremarkable as well, though one should keep in mind this sort of
film was likely designed for a matinee juvenile audience. To be sure, the resulting product shows more
in common with period serials than with a more sophisticated feature film. I suppose an argument can be made that evil-sister
Naja is a more interesting character than the virginal Tollea. But if that’s so, it’s due only to the
former’s more generous allotment of screen-time – even if that time is spent barking
out nefarious commands in stilted English. That’s not to say that there aren’t a few scripting jewels scattered
about here and there. When Ramu dramatically
declares to a spurned Naja that he’s in love with Tollea and “I won’t leave
without her!†the High Priestess scolds in cold response, “You won’t leave at
all!†A fun movie, yes. A great movie, no.
This Kino Lorber Studio Classics Blu-ray of Cobra Woman features a gorgeous, nearly
pristine 1920x1080p 1:37:1 transfer and DTS audio with removable English-subs. The set also features eight chapter
selections, as well as an audio commentary by Phillipa Berry. Also included
with the set is the film’s original theatrical trailer, as well as an
assortment of five additional trailers, all available from Kino Lorber: (Dr. Cyclops, The Land Unknown, The Spiral
Staircase and Cry of the City).
CLICK HERE TO ORDER FROM AMAZON