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A Game of Rivals: The Conflicts That Shaped Horror Classic ‘The Black Cat’

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In the 1930s, Universal laid claim to the two biggest horror stars of the era, Boris Karloff and Bela Lugosi, and it was only a matter of time before the pair would meet on screen. In 1932, only months after each rocketed to stardom in Dracula and Frankenstein respectively, the two were dressed in tuxedoes and brought together for a genial photoshoot that simultaneously announced their partnership and implied a rivalry. Through a series of circumstances, it was another two years before the pair would star in a film together. As one might expect, it was in the most transgressive horror film of the era, 1934’s The Black Cat, a film that remains shocking not only for the early 1930s but even more surprising as a product overseen by the newly enforced Hays Code.

The Code had been established in 1927 as a self-censoring wing of the motion picture industry and an attempt to avoid government censorship. From the days of the first talkies to early 1934, it was very loosely enforced giving rise to what is now known as the “Pre-Code” era. But in 1934, the Hays office began to crack down on the film industry under the watch of the newly appointed overseer of the Code, Joseph Breen. As the first horror film made by Universal under this new regime, it was expected that the office would come down hard on the script to The Black Cat with its depictions of Satanism and implications of incest, necrophilia, and more. Breen did make his objections known but still gave the screenplay by Peter Ruric from the story by director Edgar G. Ulmer and Tom Kilpatrick the stamp of approval.

The story had been commissioned to Ulmer by head of production Carl Laemmle, Jr. who was eagerly pushing for a vehicle for their newly re-acquired star Boris Karloff, who had walked out on his contract in 1933 due to a pay dispute with the studio. Universal soon realized their loss and quickly renegotiated with the actor, signing him to a “star” contract which afforded him top billing, lucrative salaries, and the ability to make films with other studios. Between this renegotiation and the making of The Black Cat, Karloff had played featured roles in The Lost Patrol (for director John Ford) and The House of Rothschild. These parts gave him the chance to stretch his acting muscles and he returned to Universal more relaxed and confident in his abilities as an actor.

On the other hand, Lugosi’s fortunes had fallen somewhat since his breakthrough performance as Dracula. He famously turned down the role of the monster in Frankenstein, instead making Murders in the Rue Morgue (1932), which did not fare well at the box office. He followed this up with small but memorable roles in films like Island of Lost Souls and The Death Kiss and larger roles in independent and poverty row films like White Zombie. Lugosi was also known to be generous to a fault, often literally giving his friends the clothes off his back, and money easily slipped through his fingers. Lugosi was brought on to The Black Cat signed to a one picture deal with Universal with an option for more if the film was successful. He would also by necessity of contract receive second billing to Boris Karloff, who was credited at this point only as “Karloff.”

Under the circumstances, it is no wonder that there has been an assumption of rivalry between the two stars ever since, and there is good reason for this assumption. Gregory William Mank in his book Karloff and Lugosi: The Story of a Haunting Collaboration, as well as in his commentary on the Scream Factory Blu-ray of The Black Cat, pieces together and attempts to come to the truth of their rivalry. In public, neither man ever said a negative word against the other. Their children Sara Karloff and Bela Lugosi, Jr. have both stated on many occasions that they never heard their respective parents speak ill of the other actor. Mank interviewed three people involved with the film who gave their perspectives on the “rivalry.” David Manners, who had faced off against Lugosi in Dracula and Karloff in The Mummy (1932) and played Peter Alison in The Black Cat sensed jealousy on Lugosi’s part on the set of the film. When Mank asked Lugosi’s fourth wife Lillian Lugosi Donlevy, who drove her husband to and from the set every day if Lugosi and Karloff were friends, she emphatically responded “No!” She went on to say “Bela didn’t like Karloff. He thought he was a ‘cold fish.’”

Perhaps most insightful of each man while working on the film was Jacqueline Wells (aka Julie Bishop) who played Joan Alison. She adored Karloff and enjoyed spending time with him between scenes. “I have been fortunate, working with a great many excellent male stars,” she told Mank, “but none of them have I respected more than Boris, both as an actor and a gentleman.” She went on to tell him, “Lugosi was a delight. Kind and considerate to work with. I liked him very much, but we didn’t visit between scenes. He was very serious, and I just didn’t get as well acquainted with him as I did with Boris.” She also said that she sensed no rivalry between the two actors.

If there was, it appears that it was primarily on Lugosi’s end. He seemed to feel that Karloff was receiving preferential treatment from the production and Ulmer in particular. It was Karloff who had the memorable makeup, costumes, and entrances in the film. He was also receiving tea breaks, per English tradition, and enjoyed personal time with the director that Lugosi did not. In a later interview, Karloff discussed that Lugosi was, “…fearful of what he regarded as scene-stealing. Later, when he realized I didn’t go in for such nonsense, we became friends…” But as previously noted, Karloff’s feelings may not have been mutual. Whatever the case, the two actors seemed to have a professional, if distant, relationship on The Black Cat.

Another better documented but less discussed rivalry was between Carl Laemmle, Sr., the founder of Universal, and his son Carl Laemmle, Jr. who had been put in charge of production in 1930. Director Edgar G. Ulmer, a friend of Junior, was roped into this rivalry as a seemingly willing participant, at least at first. The elder Laemmle, or Uncle Carl as he was affectionately called, objected to horror and was vocal about it. “I don’t believe in horror pictures,” he told his son, “It’s morbid. None of our officers are for it. People don’t want that sort of thing.” Despite his father’s objections he moved forward, proving his father wrong with the massive twin successes of Dracula and Frankenstein in 1931. By 1934, after several more successes (and a few failures) in the genre, Junior was intent on making a horror film that would scare the old man out of his wits. Apparently, he did just that with The Black Cat.

After viewing Ulmer’s first cut, Uncle Carl demanded reshoots to tone down the horror of the film. Junior and Ulmer reluctantly obliged but at least some of these new sequences improved the film, making Lugosi’s character, Dr. Vitus Werdegast, more complex and sympathetic and Karloff’s Hjalmar Poelzig even more sinister. One of the most disturbing scenes of the film was actually one of these reshoots. In it, Poelzig strokes his apparently resurrected black cat, which Werdegast had killed in a previous sequence, and walks among the corpses of several young women displayed and preserved in glass cases. The implication of this collection is that Poelzig and his followers captured these women to be taken as his brides and sacrificed to Satan after forced consummation. There is further suggestion that he might continue to defile their corpses on later occasions. Apparently, the concepts of rape, human sacrifice, and necrophilia implied by this scene did not register with Uncle Carl and remains in the final film.

The film created a further rivalry between the elder Laemmle and Edgar G. Ulmer when it was discovered that the director and the assistant script supervisor, Shirley Kassler had fallen in love. Unfortunately, Kassler was married to Laemmle’s favorite nephew at the time and blackballed Ulmer from working at any studio in town. The couple married in 1935 and Ulmer began to work again in 1939 after the elder Laemmle’s death. He would go on to make several films, mostly for independent studios, the most famous being the landmark film noir Detour in 1945. Edgar and Shirley Ulmer remained married until his death in 1972 and she continued to be the guardian of his legacy until she too passed away in 2000.

The third major conflict that shaped The Black Cat is central to the story and themes of the film itself—World War I, still known at the time as The Great War. According to writer Steve Haberman in his audio commentary for the film, The Black Cat is the first horror movie to overtly deal with this war, though it had been subtext to a great deal of horror since The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari in 1920. The War looms like a shadow over the entire film and greatly affects the psyches of the two leads who were both on the losing side. It is revealed early on that Lugosi’s Dr. Werdegast was taken as a prisoner of war and spent fifteen years at Kurgaal “where the soul is killed, slowly.” Karloff’s character, Poelzig, was the commander of Fort Marmaris which he sold to the Russians and “scattered away in the night and left us to die.” He then built his house on the site of the old fort and took Werdegast’s wife, who died, and daughter whom he married. Here we see yet another subtext surprising for a movie made under the Code—incest.

The film is innovative in its examination of the effects of the War and also in its design. The setup for The Black Cat is along the lines of the classic “old dark house” plot with the Alisons and Werdegast involved in a car accident on a rainy road and forced to take refuge in a house on the hill. In this case, however, the house is not a crumbling manor but a sleek and modern, even futuristic, domicile in the art deco style. Of course, it is owned by Werdegast’s old rival. The climax of the film is also extremely subversive compared to anything else seen at the time. It begins with Poelzig presiding over a satanic ritual that will involve his being “married” to yet another unwilling victim, in this case Joan Alison. A keen eye can spot Michael Mark (the father of Maria, the girl who drowns in Frankenstein) and a very young John Carradine among the worshipers. Werdegast rescues Joan and captures Poelzig, shackling him to a large wooden “X” in a crucifixion pose and strips him to the waist. He then proceeds to skin him alive. In the film this is only seen in shadow and silhouette, but the original script called for a much more gruesome conclusion with Karloff, sans skin, crawling across the floor toward Joan.

The film ultimately did receive some regional censorship and cuts were made. A few countries, including Austria where the film is set, banned it outright. It was also not treated kindly by critics. Variety called it “a clash of two eyebrow squinting nuts” in a particularly delightful pan. Despite this, the film was quite successful and the two stars, rivalry or not, would team up again.

At its heart, The Black Cat is about conflict and rivalry. In addition to examining the Great War, the film pits its stars against each other in a literal game of chess in which the lives of the young newlyweds are placed in the balance. Perhaps both the perceived and real offscreen rivalries served to enhance those depicted in the film. It remains the best of the Karloff-Lugosi collaborations at Universal and the only one in which the two stars are given roughly equal screen time. Lugosi was quite fond of the film, feeling that the role of Dr. Werdegast was one of his best. When he saw a revival of it a few years before his death, Lugosi loudly proclaimed “my, what a handsome bastard I was” when he appeared on screen to the amusement and delight of the other theatergoers. As for Karloff, he considered Lugosi “a fine actor and a brilliant technician in every sense of the word.” Later in life, he refused to take the bait of reporters and discuss Lugosi’s troubles, sharing only kind words about “Poor Bela.” Instead, Karloff said, “Bela was a kind and loveable man and I remember our work together with affection.”

And ninety years later, so do fans all over the world.


In Bride of Frankenstein, Dr. Pretorius, played by the inimitable Ernest Thesiger, raises his glass and proposes a toast to Colin Clive’s Henry Frankenstein—“to a new world of Gods and Monsters.” I invite you to join me in exploring this world, focusing on horror films from the dawn of the Universal Monster movies in 1931 to the collapse of the studio system and the rise of the new Hollywood rebels in the late 1960’s. With this period as our focus, and occasional ventures beyond, we will explore this magnificent world of classic horror. So, I raise my glass to you and invite you to join me in the toast.

Editorials

What’s Wrong with My Baby!? Larry Cohen’s ‘It’s Alive’ at 50

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Netflix It's Alive

Soon after the New Hollywood generation took over the entertainment industry, they started having children. And more than any filmmakers that came before—they were terrified. Rosemary’s Baby (1968), The Exorcist (1973), The Omen (1976), Eraserhead (1977), The Brood (1979), The Shining (1980), Possession (1981), and many others all deal, at least in part, with the fears of becoming or being a parent. What if my child turns out to be a monster? is corrupted by some evil force? or turns out to be the fucking Antichrist? What if I screw them up somehow, or can’t help them, or even go insane and try to kill them? Horror has always been at its best when exploring relatable fears through extreme circumstances. A prime example of this is Larry Cohen’s 1974 monster-baby movie It’s Alive, which explores the not only the rollercoaster of emotions that any parent experiences when confronted with the difficulties of raising a child, but long-standing questions of who or what is at fault when something goes horribly wrong.

Cohen begins making his underlying points early in the film as Frank Davis (John P. Ryan) discusses the state of the world with a group of expectant fathers in a hospital waiting room. They discuss the “overabundance of lead” in foods and the environment, smog, and pesticides that only serve to produce roaches that are “bigger, stronger, and harder to kill.” Frank comments that this is “quite a world to bring a kid into.” This has long been a discussion point among people when trying to decide whether to have kids or not. I’ve had many conversations with friends who have said they feel it’s irresponsible to bring children into such a violent, broken, and dangerous world, and I certainly don’t begrudge them this. My wife and I did decide to have children but that doesn’t mean that it’s been easy.

Immediately following this scene comes It’s Alive’s most famous sequence in which Frank’s wife Lenore (Sharon Farrell) is the only person left alive in her delivery room, the doctors clawed and bitten to death by her mutant baby, which has escaped. “What does my baby look like!? What’s wrong with my baby!?” she screams as nurses wheel her frantically into a recovery room. The evening that had begun with such joy and excitement at the birth of their second child turned into a nightmare. This is tough for me to write, but on some level, I can relate to this whiplash of emotion. When my second child was born, they came about five weeks early. I’ll use the pronouns “they/them” for privacy reasons when referring to my kids. Our oldest was still very young and went to stay with my parents and we sped off to the hospital where my wife was taken into an operating room for an emergency c-section. I was able to carry our newborn into the NICU (natal intensive care unit) where I was assured that this was routine for all premature births. The nurses assured me there was nothing to worry about and the baby looked big and healthy. I headed to where my wife was taken to recover to grab a few winks assuming that everything was fine. Well, when I awoke, I headed back over to the NICU to find that my child was not where I left them. The nurse found me and told me that the baby’s lungs were underdeveloped, and they had to put them in a special room connected to oxygen tubes and wires to monitor their vitals.

It’s difficult to express the fear that overwhelmed me in those moments. Everything turned out okay, but it took a while and I’m convinced to this day that their anxiety struggles spring from these first weeks of life. As our children grew, we learned that two of the three were on the spectrum and that anxiety, depression, ADHD, and OCD were also playing a part in their lives. Parents, at least speaking for myself, can’t help but blame themselves for the struggles their children face. The “if only” questions creep in and easily overcome the voices that assure us that it really has nothing to do with us. In the film, Lenore says, “maybe it’s all the pills I’ve been taking that brought this on.” Frank muses aloud about how he used to think that Frankenstein was the monster, but when he got older realized he was the one that made the monster. The aptly named Frank is wondering if his baby’s mutation is his fault, if he created the monster that is terrorizing Los Angeles. I have made plenty of “if only” statements about myself over the years. “If only I hadn’t had to work so much, if only I had been around more when they were little.” Mothers may ask themselves, “did I have a drink, too much coffee, or a cigarette before I knew I was pregnant? Was I too stressed out during the pregnancy?” In other words, most parents can’t help but wonder if it’s all their fault.

At one point in the film, Frank goes to the elementary school where his baby has been sighted and is escorted through the halls by police. He overhears someone comment about “screwed up genes,” which brings about age-old questions of nature vs. nurture. Despite the voices around him from doctors and detectives that say, “we know this isn’t your fault,” Frank can’t help but think it is, and that the people who try to tell him it isn’t really think it’s his fault too. There is no doubt that there is a hereditary element to the kinds of mental illness struggles that my children and I deal with. But, and it’s a bit but, good parenting goes a long way in helping children deal with these struggles. Kids need to know they’re not alone, a good parent can provide that, perhaps especially parents that can relate to the same kinds of struggles. The question of nature vs. nurture will likely never be entirely answered but I think there’s more than a good chance that “both/and” is the case. Around the midpoint of the film, Frank agrees to disown the child and sign it over for medical experimentation if caught or killed. Lenore and the older son Chris (Daniel Holzman) seek to nurture and teach the baby, feeling that it is not a monster, but a member of the family.

It’s Alive takes these ideas to an even greater degree in the fact that the Davis Baby really is a monster, a mutant with claws and fangs that murders and eats people. The late ’60s and early ’70s also saw the rise in mass murderers and serial killers which heightened the nature vs. nurture debate. Obviously, these people were not literal monsters but human beings that came from human parents, but something had gone horribly wrong. Often the upbringing of these killers clearly led in part to their antisocial behavior, but this isn’t always the case. It’s Alive asks “what if a ‘monster’ comes from a good home?” In this case is it society, environmental factors, or is it the lead, smog, and pesticides? It is almost impossible to know, but the ending of the film underscores an uncomfortable truth—even monsters have parents.

As the film enters its third act, Frank joins the hunt for his child through the Los Angeles sewers and into the L.A. River. He is armed with a rifle and ready to kill on sight, having divorced himself from any relationship to the child. Then Frank finds his baby crying in the sewers and his fatherly instincts take over. With tears in his eyes, he speaks words of comfort and wraps his son in his coat. He holds him close, pats and rocks him, and whispers that everything is going to be okay. People often wonder how the parents of those who perform heinous acts can sit in court, shed tears, and defend them. I think it’s a complex issue. I’m sure that these parents know that their child has done something evil, but that doesn’t change the fact that they are still their baby. Your child is a piece of yourself formed into a whole new human being. Disowning them would be like cutting off a limb, no matter what they may have done. It doesn’t erase an evil act, far from it, but I can understand the pain of a parent in that situation. I think It’s Alive does an exceptional job placing its audience in that situation.

Despite the serious issues and ideas being examined in the film, It’s Alive is far from a dour affair. At heart, it is still a monster movie and filled with a sense of fun and a great deal of pitch-black humor. In one of its more memorable moments, a milkman is sucked into the rear compartment of his truck as red blood mingles with the white milk from smashed bottles leaking out the back of the truck and streaming down the street. Just after Frank agrees to join the hunt for his baby, the film cuts to the back of an ice cream truck with the words “STOP CHILDREN” emblazoned on it. It’s a movie filled with great kills, a mutant baby—created by make-up effects master Rick Baker early in his career, and plenty of action—and all in a PG rated movie! I’m telling you, the ’70s were wild. It just also happens to have some thoughtful ideas behind it as well.

Which was Larry Cohen’s specialty. Cohen made all kinds of movies, but his most enduring have been his horror films and all of them tackle the social issues and fears of the time they were made. God Told Me To (1976), Q: The Winged Serpent (1982), and The Stuff (1985) are all great examples of his socially aware, low-budget, exploitation filmmaking with a brain and It’s Alive certainly fits right in with that group. Cohen would go on to write and direct two sequels, It Lives Again (aka It’s Alive 2) in 1978 and It’s Alive III: Island of the Alive in 1987 and is credited as a co-writer on the 2008 remake. All these films explore the ideas of parental responsibility in light of the various concerns of the times they were made including abortion rights and AIDS.

Fifty years after It’s Alive was initially released, it has only become more relevant in the ensuing years. Fears surrounding parenthood have been with us since the beginning of time but as the years pass the reasons for these fears only seem to become more and more profound. In today’s world the conversation of the fathers in the waiting room could be expanded to hormones and genetic modifications in food, terrorism, climate change, school and other mass shootings, and other threats that were unknown or at least less of a concern fifty years ago. Perhaps the fearmongering conspiracy theories about chemtrails and vaccines would be mentioned as well, though in a more satirical fashion, as fears some expectant parents encounter while endlessly doomscrolling Facebook or Twitter. Speaking for myself, despite the struggles, the fears, and the sadness that sometimes comes with having children, it’s been worth it. The joys ultimately outweigh all of that, but I understand the terror too. Becoming a parent is no easy choice, nor should it be. But as I look back, I can say that I’m glad we made the choice we did.

I wonder if Frank and Lenore can say the same thing.

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