“
BY HANK REINEKE
It
reaches from the grave to re-live the horror, the terror! More
destructive! More terrifying!” (1958 ad campaign for Frankenstein’s Daughter.)-
Promises, promises. Even the most forgiving fans of low-budget 1950s horror concede Richard E.
Cunha’s Frankenstein’s Daughter is a
mess. It’s the sort of film where
everything seems off-kilter: the script, the acting, the monster, the directing
and flat lighting… well, everything,
really. Ironically, this reality is also,
perversely, the film’s single saving grace. If you go into Frankenstein’s
Daughter with such knowledge aforethought and low-expectations, the resulting
film – brought in on a budget of $60,000 - is actually pretty entertaining, if
only in a manner of speaking.
In 1958 one New York tabloid chastised Manhattan’s
Mayfair Theater for plummeting “to an all-time low in booking not one, but two,
of the year’s worst films.” Describing the double-bill of Frankenstein’s Daughter and its co-bill Missile to the Moon as nothing less than “pathetic,” the critic
opined producer Marc Frederic and Cunha might have be better suited as
“shoemakers” than filmmakers. I would
say that assessment is an unfair one… with the caveat that my tolerance for bad
movies is pretty high.
Director Cunha’s previous double-bill of low budget
horrors Giant of the Unknown and She Demons had performed reasonably at
the box office. Well enough that in
April of 1958 the Hollywood Reporter
noted Fred Ballin, the President of Astor Pictures, had brokered a deal with
Marc Frederick’s [sic] Layton Productions to deliver no fewer than ten feature
films in a twenty-four month period. The first two films of this partnership
were to be Frankenstein’s Daughter
and a sci-fi epic provisionally titled Satellite
(later changed to Missile to the Moon). Cunha was tapped to direct both films, the
former title to begin shooting on April 30.
I would only catch Frankenstein’s
Daughter some fourteen years on. The
film was featured on New York City’s WPIX-TV’s Chiller Theatre in the early
winter of 1972. I can’t remember with any
accuracy now, but I’m sure I sort of enjoyed
the movie back then, at least in a more or less manner. The film’s primary monster (this film
generously sports two) was sort of cool looking: ping-pong ball sized eyes, a fright wig, acid
scarred skin and a set of eyebrows befitting Soviet leader Leonid Brezhnev. The face of the film’s secondary creature,
also a creation of the picture’s mad doctor, seems less Frankenstein’s monster
and more Mrs. Hyde in appearance, but that’s nit-picking. To Cunha’s credit there’s no suspenseful long
drag as we await the ghastly reveal of the first monster. “Trudy” (Sandra Knight), the film’s secondary
fiend, appears on screen within a minute or so into the movie during a
nightmare sequence.
Frankenstein’s Daughter
centers around the experimentations of Dr. Oliver Frank (Donald Murphy) whom,
we learn, is actually the grandson of the original Dr. Frankenstein. Frank, in
all truth, is a pretty awful guy, cynical, intense, lecherous and high-strung.
He’s working with the doddering Carter Morton (Felix Locher) who, quite
frankly, is no prize himself. Though dismissed from his former position at
Rockwell Laboratories, Morton occasionally manages to break into and steal from
the office of his former employer whenever he’s in need of additional materials.
Dr. Frank also has an assistant, Elsu (Wolfe Barzell), a
creepy old colleague of his grandfather’s. Interestingly, Elsu seems far less weird than the two egghead scientists
he assists in the secreted basement laboratory of the Frank home. But then again - and given his history - Elsu
has seen it all, I imagine. But even with the help of two his assistants,
Dr. Frank’s recent experiments have brought about a disappointing a combination
of mixed results and outright failures.
The mad doctor ascertains his two most recent misfires
were caused by his having created strong-willed male monsters. So he’s chosen to re-jigger his experiments by
turning female candidates into full-fledged monsters. This, he reasons, is sure to correct past
mistakes since a woman’s brain is more “responsive to command.” To this end he’s already turned Morton’s
lovely niece Trudy, into a drug-addled half-monster.
But his most frightening monster is his newest creation,
a huge, skulking and violent creature whose feminine features are all but
indiscernible. (It was only after reading Tom Weaver’s old interview with Cunha
that I discovered make-up artist Harry Thomas was simply unaware he was to
craft a female monster for the film. So,
due to time constraints, the filmmakers simply went with the androgynous
monster supplied).
Regardless, Trudy and boyfriend Johnny (John Ashley) eventually
come to suspect there’s something odd going on in the basement and decide to
have a look. When the two teens manage to thwart Dr. Frank’s evil
schemes, the mad doctor scornfully bellows, in classic Scooby Doo
fashion, “Are you satisfied now, you meddling kids?”
Yes, this is a bad movie, but not an unentertaining one. H.E.
Barrie’s (the nom de plume of a
writer who understandably asked for anonymity) script is chock full of
head-scratching improbable turns and purple prose passages. As low budget 1950s sci-fi goes, I guess some
of the dialogue and plot contrivances might have been tempered, if not
salvaged, by the delivery a more capable ensemble. But as so much of Barrie’s dialogue is
delivered in wooden fashion, many of the scripted exchanges invoke only laughter
and head shakes.
Moving the traditional Frankenstein setting from a gloomy
old European castle to a modern suburban American home (the establishing shot
is actually the home of producer Frederic), was one way for the production team
to shave a few dollars from the budget. It is also allowed for the
inevitable ‘50s teenage dance party to be dropped into the picture’s middle
without much fuss. One bit of curious casting is that of Harold Lloyd Jr.
as “Don.” Lloyd, the son of the
legendary silent film actor-comedian, had also tried his hand at acting and
singing prior to his untimely death at age 40. The Page Cavanaugh Trio, a well-scrubbed electric jazz combo, backs Don
on his scat-singing solos on “Special Date” and their own “Daddy-Bird.”
So that’s the honest criticism. But this movie (shot in six ten-hour days
according to Weaver) is actually a fun popcorn-munching effort if you’re in the
right mood and tend to wallow in B-movie nostalgia. This “Special Edition” Blu-ray from Film
Detective offers Frankenstein’s Daughter
in all of its 85 minute B &W glory in a 1.85: 1 aspect ratio and DTS
monaural sound. It looks as good as it likely ever will.
Film Detective also, much to their credit, pulls out all
the stops on this set. There are two
separate commentary tracks, one by Weaver, one by filmmaker Larry Blamire, as
well as two featurettes: Richard E.
Cunha: Filmmaker of the Unknown and John
Ashley: Man from the B’s. There’s
also a twelve-page booklet written by Weaver, with accompanying photos. The booklet neatly condenses and distills much
of the info offered in the expansive commentaries. Final verdict: this release is worth a shot,
just as long as you know what you’re getting into.
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