The first generation to discover Karloff in the decades
following his big splash as the Frankenstein monster in 1931, include directors
Roger Corman and Peter Bogdanovich.Both
men would have the opportunity and honor to work with the actor in his twilight
years.The second generation of admirers
were those introduced to Karloff via neighborhood cinema screenings or through
television broadcasts of Shock Theater
in the late 1950s/early 1960s.
These filmmakers, profoundly influenced by Karloff’s art,
would go on to create a few cinematic gems of their own:John Landis, Joe Dante, and Guillermo Del
Toro, to name a few.The latter
gentleman is particularly effusive in his praise, describing Karloff’s
performance as the vampiric Wurdalak
in Mario Bava’s Black Sabbath as a
“tremendous†example of the great actor’s “physical presence, his majesty, his
demonic power.â€
If the documentary is chock-full of talented filmmakers offering
tributes, the film is also supported by the erudite commentaries of film
scholars David J. Skal (The Monster Show:
a Cultural History of Horror), Gregory W. Mank (Bela Lugosi and Boris Karloff: the Expanded Story of a Haunting
Collaboration), Donald F. Glut (The
Frankenstein Legend: a tribute to Mary Shelley and Boris Karloff), Sir
Christopher Frayling (Frankenstein: the
first Two Hundred Years), and critic Leonard Maltin.
There are also short tributes and reminisces by several
actors – three now gone - who had worked with Karloff at some point in their
career: Dick Miller (The Terror),
Christopher Plummer (The Lark, Even the Weariest River), Ian Ogilvy (The Sorcerers), and Orson Bean (Arsenic and Old Lace).Karloff’s tells part of his own story through
audio recordings made available to the filmmakers courtesy of the British cinema
historian/author Kevin Brownlow (The
Parades Gone By…) and the Pacifica Radio Archive.
It has long annoyed me that when one searches out the
term “Boris Karloff†in the ever-expanding IMDB, the resulting prompt
identifies the actor’s signature film as The
Grinch that Stole Christmas (1966).My daughters would remind me that my personal agitation of this result is,
by definition, a “first world†problem, one hardly worthy of condemnation.But as cinema’s preeminent boogeyman for four
decades, seeing Karloff’s storied career reduced to a role featuring only his
disembodied voice as the Grinch… Well, let’s just say that I still find it somewhat
misleading and inappropriate.
Be that as it may, Hamilton’s film reminds Karloff
himself might disagree with my wariness of the Grinch being bandied as the
cinematic crown jewel of the actor’s legacy.Sara Karloff recalls receiving a phone call from her father immediately
following his recording of the narration for that beloved Dr. Seuss vehicle.The actor we learn was profoundly happy with
his work on the now-famous animated holiday classic, telling his daughter
proudly, “I’ve done something which I think is pretty good.â€
Karloff would pass away a couple of years following the
first broadcast of The Grinch that Stole
Christmas, but he worked to the very end of his days, appearing in a number
of memorable – and a few less-than-memorable – films, several of which would see
release in years following his passing.His last films were little more than cameo-length appearances shot on a
Hollywood sound stage.It was director
Jack Hill’s idea to take the Karloff footage from these shoots and blend the
results into a series of Mexican horror films. Karloff, rightly and proudly, would choose to refer
to his spell-binding turn as the semi-autobiographical aging horror film actor Byron
Orlok in Bogdanovich’s Targets (1968)
as his feature film swan song.Technically,
it wasn’t.But the brief appearances in that
post- Target series of Hollywood-Mexico
co-production mash-ups were mostly an excuse for an old pro to continue to ply
his trade and keep busy.But working
oxygen-tank dependent and wheelchair bound on the Jack Hill-directed sequences,
Karloff was prevented from doing much of anything with the already somewhat
cut-and-paste material given to him.
Karloff, of course, was not the only “horror film†star
of the genre’s celebrated Golden Age of the 1930s and 40s. Karloff, we learn, was actually not happy with
the designation “horror movieâ€, much preferring his films to be termed as
“thrillers.†His contemporary competitor as grand ghoul of the horror film - one
whose own legacy would burn bright into the next century - was Bela Lugosi.Although Lugosi had too often played
second-fiddle to Karloff in matters of employment and billing, the Hungarian’s
post-mortem fame may have eclipsed his friend’s over the last several decades.
For starters, Lugosi’s sad and lurid dependency on morphine
and alcohol in his final years made him the subject of tabloid fodder, and
gossip then – and now – still rules.Lugosi’s
slow demise coupled with his appearances in several of Edward J. Wood’s revered
cult films brought him a big degree of post-mortem fame.A brand new generation would discover the
actor through Martin Landau’s Oscar-winning turn as Lugosi in Tim Burton’s
semi-biographical drama Ed Wood.
To be fair, Lugosi’s string of mad performances in Wood’s
Plan 9 from Outer Space (1957), Bride of the Monster (1955), and Glen or Glenda (1953) are, in many ways,
were no less better or worse or more undistinguished than Karloff’s walk-ons in
the creaky Jack Hill/Mexi-horror films of spring 1968. Though both sets of films are passably
entertaining in their own uneven, cult-ish ways, both actor’s cinematic exits
were ignoble ends to these two great men who famously made audiences shiver in
1931.
James Whale’s Frankenstein
would ultimately transform Karloff into a full-fledged movie star, but it had
been a long road to achieving such fame.The actor had been working on various Hollywood backlots since the
silent era.In the course of his
earliest silent film efforts – beginning with such titles as The Lightning Raider (1919) and His Majesty, the American (1919) – he
worked as little more than an extra.His
subsequent fame would cause a score of budding film historians to carefully
survey battered old prints of Karloff’s earliest filmography in the often
futile hope of catching a glimpse as he passed by the camera.
In truth, his decade-long career as a silent film actor
was mostly non consequential.He would
appear in approximately sixty or so silent films between 1919 and 1929.He would, on occasion, be gifted a role of
some heft, most notably as that of “The Mesmerist†in The Bells (1926) opposite Lionel Barrymore, but he was most often
cast in adventure-orientated serials as a heavy, or as a Hindu, Mexican or an Arab,
a mystic or a general ne’er-do-well.
It was his casting as the sadistic “Galloway†in Howard
Hawk’s sound prison drama The Criminal
Code (1930) that brought him to the attention of Universal executives
looking to cast a suitably cadaverous-appearing actor as the Frankenstein
monster.Following Lugosi’s rejection of
the part due to the absence of dialogue afforded, Bela’s pass on the role was
fortuitous for Karloff.He was still hungry
and looking for that big break.Although
the role of the monster would forever typecast him, the actor remained forever
grateful for having taking the role in Frankenstein,
once describing the career door-opening creature as “the best friend I ever
had.â€
It’s not hard to see why Karloff’s portrayal of the
monster remains the preeminent of the Universal series.He was, after all, the only actor to have been
given the opportunity to actually act and emote, to bring a sense of pathos to
the role.He was abetted, of course, by
Jack Pierce’s iconic make-up which, rather than masking, cannily sculpted and
made highlight of Karloff’s facial features and sunken cheeks.This gave the monster, according to one of
the participants in the documentary, a “full expression range.â€The trio of actors who would subsequently
portray the monster in the Universal series simply weren’t given the opportunity
to apply any emotive effect of their own.Even by Son of Frankenstein (1939),
the third film in the series, the screenwriters had already reduced the monster
into little more than a hulking, lumbering menace and henchman.
It is discouraging to learn that when Frankenstein had its gala premiere in
the autumn of 1931, Karloff was not even invited to attend.He was already forty-four years of age when
he assumed the role, a no-name celebrity and hardly a handsome matinee idol of
any recognition. The unexpected
phenomenal success of Frankenstein
would change all that, and Universal was quick to capitalize on the actor’s
sudden notoriety as Hollywood’s most beloved boogeyman.Karloff’s natural proclivity for taking on
roles of menacing villainous characters with icy stares would allow his casting
into a string of Golden Age horror classics – not only for Universal but for
other studios as well, including memorable turn in MGM’s The Mask of Fu Manchu.The
latter remains a great, entertaining film… if undeniably one of the most
politically-incorrect lavish big studio productions of the 1930s.
When the market for horror films softened in the
mid-1940s – thanks, in part, due to the horror genre’s continuing perceived transgressions
of the Hays Code - Karloff easily transitioned to character roles, where,
according to his daughter, her father’s natural “dark coloring,†permitted him
to slip easily into “ethnic roles.â€As
one of the founders of the Screen Actors Guild, he was able to exercise his
freelance status by working for, amongst others, RKO, Columbia, Monogram, and
Warner Bros.
Another avenue of opportunity had presented itself around
this same time.In 1941 Karloff was
lured, against his better judgement according to this film, to take on the Broadway
role of the villainous Jonathan Brewster in Joseph L. Kesselring’s stage play Arsenic and Old Lace.It was to his life-long disappointment that a
clause in his theatrical stage contract prevented his returning to Hollywood –
as did several fellow members of the original Broadway cast – to reprise the
role for the much beloved Frank Capra film adaptation of 1944.
Though initially frightened to work in theatre before a
live audience, the success of Arsenic
emboldened Karloff to accept several other roles in such Broadway productions as
The Lark (with Julie Harris), The Linden Tree, The Shop at Sly Corner, and even in a memorable turn as Captain
Hook in a 1950 production of Peter Pan.Fortunately, we of a certain age who missed
out still can get a small taste of what we missed since kinescopes survive from
early Hallmark Hall of Fame
broadcasts of the original production of The
Lark and a 1961 re-staging of Arsenic
and Old Lace.
Though Karloff’s work in radio is mostly ignored in this
documentary, the film does take pains to point out that he was among the first
movie stars of his generation to fully embrace television.Though he would often appear in serious
television dramas for such programs as Texaco
Star Theater or Playhouse 90, he
was not above spoofing his own curious fame as Hollywood’s grandest ghoul on
any number of variety programs hosted by the likes of Red Skelton or Dinah
Shore.
In the 1960s, he would famously host (and occasionally
act) in episodes of the television program Thriller,
or appear in drag as “Mother Muffin†in an episode of The Girl from U.N.C.L.E – or with former U.N.C.L.E. agent Robert
Vaughn in the spy-film The Venetian
Affair (1966).Joe Dante also
references the series of wonderful long-playing albums Karloff would record
over the years, his unmistakable, lisping voice introducing children to a wonderful
selection of folk tales, ghost stories, Washington Irving classics, and
time-worn fables.
Karloff's late career guest star appearance in "The Girl from U.N.C.L.E." as Mother Muffin, opposite Stefanie Powers and Robert Vaughn.
Boris
Karloff: the Man behind the Monster reminds us that the actor (1887-1969)
accomplished a lot in his eighty-one-years, a large percentage of which would
encompass appearances on screen, on stage, on air, on record, and on
television.To their credit, the
filmmakers share what they can in the constraint of the film’ ninety-nine
minute running time, and the film certainly succeeds as an excellent
primer.Karloff wonks like myself might
hold out hope that a multi-part, Ken Burns-style series might someday be put
into the works, but I imagine that’s unlikely.One hundred and thirty four years have passed since Karloff’s birth.The fact that contemporary audiences remain completely
entranced by his filmography in 2021 is testament enough to the worthiness of
this loving tribute painting him as one of Hollywood’s greatest.
For details about how to view the film, click here.