The Black Cat (1934)

The Black Cat (1934)

Directed by Edgar G. Ulmer

Screenplay by Peter Ruric

Runtime: 1 hr, 5 min

 

I now find myself at the end of Classic Horror Month, and only now am I struck my how little horror I’ve actually seen in my life.  Perhaps the best demonstration of this fact is that I had never seen a movie starring Bela Lugosi or Boris Karloff.  What better way to fix that than to watch a film that they both were in?  Lugosi and Karloff filmed eight pictures together, so that presents many options.  As I always say, however, start at the beginning, which is why today’s movie is the 1934 version of The Black Cat.

The opening credits claim the film was “suggested” by the Edgar Allan Poe story, but in reality the two have nothing in common besides a black cat being somehow involved.  In this story, Lugosi plays Dr. Vitus Werdegast, a former prisoner of war off to visit an old acquaintance, Hjalmer Poelzig (Karloff).  On the train, he meets an American couple, Peter and Joan Alison (David Manners and Julie Bishop), who are on honeymoon.  Later on, however, their bus crashes, injuring Joan.  The three take refuge at the Poelzig estate, where it soon becomes evident that everything is not quite right.

I myself would begin to be suspicious just on looking at Poelzig.  The first time the audience sees him, he’s getting out of bed in a mechanical, monster-come-to-life fashion, all in silhouette.  Then there’s Karloff’s performance, which somehow manages to be dead-cold and maniacal at once.  All of his dialogue carries a combination of smugness and calculation that it leaves no doubt that he’s the villain.  Ordinarily I would find this sort of character dull, but Karloff has the chops to pull it off.

But what brings Karloff’s character to life is his relationship to Werdegast, whom Lugosi plays expertly.  Werdegast is determined to get revenge on Poelzig, whom he accuses of betraying him during the war and stealing his wife, Karen.  He’s also a bit unstable, despite being a psychiatrist, and is deathly afraid of a black cat in the mansion.  Yet Lugosi brings a great deal of nobility to his character, such as when he tells the Alisons of his past: “Have you ever heard of Kurgaal?  It is a prison below Amsk.  Many men have gone there.  Few have returned.  I have returned.  After fifteen years…I have returned.”

Karloff and Lugosi are brilliant together, and their disdain for each other’s existence could easily drive the story on its own.  Somewhat unfortunately, however, the Alisons are effectively The Black Cat’s motor.  It’s Joan’s injury that brings the trio to the mansion, and it’s Poelzig’s plan for her that keeps them there.  It’s not that Manners and Bishop are bad, per se, but they are not given very interesting characters, though their scenes together do have a certain affectionate charm.  Overall, though, the Alisons are just sort of a nuisance that keep Poelzig and Werdegast from settling their personal affairs.

But when the leads are let loose on each other, oh boy, this film kicks into high gear.  The confrontation has just about everything in it: Satanic cults, encased women, human sacrifice, torture, tons of dynamite, misunderstandings, and a game of chess.  And it’s all crammed into about thirty minutes of glorious footage.  Part of me wants to say that the film is trying too hard and throwing everything it can think of on screen, but the execution is so tight that the result is sheer destructive beauty.  This is what ridiculous action should be like.

Not only is The Black Cat suspenseful, but also it is pretty scary and disturbing.  Werdegast’s final confrontation with Poelzig sees the doctor go so far for revenge that it’s hard to remember that he’s the not-villain.  And while the cult meeting is bit silly, the staging carries a dark aura with it.  I can totally see why this film was a little controversial in its day, what with the Satanic and sadistic textures throughout.  This was released in May 1934; had it been delayed a few weeks I’m sure a lot would not have passed the Hays Code’s muster.

Finally, The Black Cat functions as a horror film not only with scares but also with atmosphere.  The architecture of the Poelzig mansion will abruptly transition from hard and angular Art Deco to a cartoonish Gothic appearance, which gives the proceedings an uneasy feel; major credit to Charles D. Hall’s art direction.  Further, the film’s use of heavy blacks and dark grays, punctuated by bright lightening flashes, is not just beautiful—it’s definitely and quintessentially creepy.  With its actions, scares and tone, The Black Cat fully succeeds.

It might be a shame that the film is not actually an adaptation of the Poe story—seriously, that needs to happen—but all the same, The Black Cat is a gem, by far my favorite film I reviewed for Classic Horror Month.  It’s the sort of film that has nearly everything working for it; a little plot trimming, and it would be damn near perfect.  If were to have children one day and wanted to show them a scary movie that succeeds at being “scary” and “a movie”, then I would need look no further than The Black Cat.