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dweemeister · 26 days ago

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Murders in the Rue Morgue (1932)

For the bookworms reading this, fair warning: there have been almost no faithful film adaptations of an Edgar Allan Poe work. In the absence of any cinematic-literary faithfulness to Poe’s bibliography, there still remains a plethora of big-screen Poe adaptations that, from a cinematic standpoint, are simply mesmeric to watch. Robert Florey’s Murders in the Rue Morgue, starring Béla Lugosi one year after his career-defining role in Dracula (1931) and released by Universal, is one of the earliest such adaptations. Its atmospheric filmmaking reminiscent of the tangled geometries of German Expressionism and Lugosi’s creepy turn in a starring role may make Poe loyalists furious, but one hopes they can also see the remarkable craft of this film, too.

Though lesser known than both Dracula and Frankenstein (1931), Florey’s Murders in the Rue Morgue came about due to legacies of both those productions. Following the successful release of Dracula in February 1931, Universal considered Lugosi as their go-to star for horror films. Producer Carl Laemmle Jr. – the son of Universal’s chief executive and co-founder, Carl Laemmle – wanted Lugosi to play Frankenstein’s monster (often mistakenly called “Frankenstein”), and even had Lugosi play the monster in several minutes of test footage. That footage, now lost, is one of horror cinema’s greatest sights unseen. Sometime after that test shoot, Universal gave director James Whale a first-choice pick for his next project after the rousing critical and commercial success of Waterloo Bridge (1931). Whale chose Frankenstein, requested a screenplay rewrite, and cast the British actor Boris Karloff in the role. As consolation, Lammle Jr. gave the Hungarian American Lugosi the starring role in Murders in Rue Morgue.

In a Parisian carnival in 1845, we find ourselves in a sideshow tent. There, Dr. Mirakle (Lugosi; meer-AH-cull, not to be pronounced like “miracle”) provides a presentation that is anything but the freak show the attendees are anticipating. He unveils an ape, Erik (Charles Gemora – an actor in an ape suit; some close-up shots are of an actual ape), whom he claims he is able to understand and converse with – even though Erik is unable to speak any human language. In the audience, Mirakle spots a young lady, Camille L’Espanaye (Sidney Fox), and asks her to be his intrepid volunteer for a demonstration. The demonstration goes awry, to the ire of both Camille and her fiancé, Pierre Dupin (Leon Ames). As Camille and Pierre exit the carnival, Mirakle orders his assistant, Janos (Noble Johnson), to trail them. Thus sets in motion the film’s grisly plot.

The film also stars silent film comic actor Bert Roach as one of Camille and Pierre’s friends, Betsy Ross Clarke as Camille’s mother, character actor D’Arcy Corrigan as the morgue keeper, and Arlene Francis (best known as a regular panelist on the game show What’s My Line?) as a prostitute.

Murders in the Rue Morgue, with a screenplay by Tom Reed (1925’s The Phantom of the Opera, 1931’s Waterloo Bridge) and Dale Van Every (1937’s Captains Courageous, 1942’s The Talk of the Town), is one of the most violent pre-Code horror films from the early synchronized sound years. It was so violent, in fact, that Universal’s executives harbored trepidation throughout its entire production and demanded narrative and structural changes that ultimately harmed the film (including cutting grotesque and violent sequences, leaving behind the current 62-minute runtime). The best example of this damage comes from the film’s opening third. Unbeknownst to the carnival attendees, Mirakle has been performing horrifying experiments involving cross-species blood mixing and, through heavy implication by the filmmaking and Gemora’s performance, bestiality (hey, it’s a pre-Code movie!). Originally, Florey’s adaptation of Murders in the Rue Morgue began with Mirakle and Janos abducting Arlene Francis’ streetwalker and Mirakle’s torturing and experimentation on her. Only after that did the film transition to Mirakle’s sideshow presentation.

The reordering of these two scenes – in the final print, the sideshow opens the movie and the abduction and experimentation follows a turgid romantic scene between Camille and Pierre – makes the sideshow opening seem sillier than it should be. If the original order had been kept, Florey’s initial intention to instill dread during the sideshow only after the abduction and experimentation scene – as the audience would be well aware of what Mirakle is capable of – would have made the film’s exposition feel far less stage-bound and hokey than it does. The abduction and experimentation scene’s blood-curdling horror remains (the scene contains a boundary-pushing combination of bestial and religious allusions that some modern filmmakers might not even dare to push), but the romantic scene immediately preceding makes for a rough tonal transition. In comparison to later horror films from the Hollywood Studio System released after stricter implementation of the Hays Code in 1934, these scenes – in addition to a later investigation and the film’s finale – hold up wonderfully.

Crucially, Tom Reed and Dale Van Every’s screenplay alter genres from Edgar Allan Poe’s original short story. With the introduction of hobbyist detective C. Auguste Dupin, Poe’s The Murders in the Rue Morgue is a foundational piece of early Western detective fiction. Or, in Poe’s words, Murders in the Rue Morgue is a “ratiocination tale” – a name that was never going to catch on in any century. Poe’s Dupin, a character who later influenced Sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s Sherlock Holmes and Agatha Christie’s Hercule Poirot, undergoes a name change in Reed and Van Every’s adaptation, and we do not see nearly as much deduction and investigating here as in the short story. Reed and Van Every’s screenplay, which delete all but two scenes from the Poe short story, also elevate one of their own creations – Dr. Mirakle – at the expense of Dupin. In addition, it is clear early on who is responsible for the violent acts within the narrative. And, unlike the Poe’s original short story in which Dupin and the unnamed narrator read about the violence in the newspaper, the film shows these acts explicitly or the lead-up to them. Director Robert Florey’s film is decidedly a horror film, not a mystery.

Having Béla Lugosi in the cast in his first film after Dracula is a surefire way to confirm that you are making/watching a horror film. Reed and Van Every’s clunky dialogue might not do Sidney Fox and Leon Ames any favors, but it is a gift for Lugosi. Lugosi’s heavily accented English typecast him later in his career to mad scientist and vampire roles. Nevertheless, who else could stand there – with a mangled tuft of a wig, a makeup department-applied thick unibrow that appears to barely move, menacing lighting from a low angle – and tell Fox’s Camille (after receiving a gawking from Erik, the ape), “Erik is only human, mademoiselle. He has an eye for beauty,” with incredible conviction? The opening minutes of the film at the sideshow, because of the reordering of the film, are heavily expository and contain the bumpiest writing of the entire film. But Lugosi, with his signature cadence (notice how and when Lugosi uses silence and varies the speed of his phrasing – very few native English speakers naturally speak like that) and his physical acting, presents himself perfectly as the societal outsider – remarkably intelligent, but perhaps mentally unhinged. Lugosi’s performance completely outshines all others in this film. Here, in a magnificent performance, he confirms that his acting ability on display in Dracula was no fluke.

Early Universal Horror of the late silent era and early sound era owes a sizable debt to German Expressionism – a mostly silent film-era movement in German cinema in which filmmakers used distorted and geometrically unrealistic sets to suggest mental tumult and dread. Working alongside editor Milton Carruth (1932’s The Mummy,1943’s Shadow of a Doubt) and production designer Charles D. Hall (1925’s The Phantom of the Opera, 1930’s All Quiet on the Western Front), cinematographer Karl Freund (1924’s The Last Laugh, 1927’s Metropolis) found a team of filmmakers that he could work with to set an aesthetic that could do justice to Murders in the Rue Morgue’s macabre plot.

It also helped that director Robert Florey wanted to make something that looked closer to Robert Wiene’s The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari (1919, Germany) than Dracula. Together, Freund and Florey worked with Hall to achieve a set design that created long shadows and crooked buildings and tents more likely to appear in a nightmare than in nineteenth century Europe. The final chase scene across angular and rickety rooftops used leftover sets from The Hunchback of Notre Dame (1923). All this endows Murders in the Rue Morgue with a gruesome atmosphere, oftentimes cloaked in dust and early morning mist.

For Freund and Florey, each saw in the other a kindred spirit in their appreciation of German Expressionism. If they could not achieve just the right shadow, they would instead paint it onto the set itself (painting shadows was commonplace in German Expressionism, but never in Hollywood movies). To achieve the ideal lighting for some of the rooftop or near-rooftop scenes, they shot outdoors, in chilly autumn weather, past midnight – most black-and-white Old Hollywood films, due to technical limitations at the time, shot nighttime scenes inside soundstages. In an era where cameras usually stayed frozen in one place, Freund invented the unchained camera technique, allowing cameras to creep forward into a set rather than relying on a cut to a close-up. Though the unchained camera is not as present here as in other movies involving Freund as cinematographer, it makes the viewer feel as if they are moving alongside the crowd at the carnival, as well as imbuing the audience with a terrible anticipation for what terror lurks around the corner. Freund and Florey’s collaboration was one of like-minded men, with similar influences and goals. In what was their only film together, the two achieve an artistry with few similarities across much of American film history.

Initial reception to Murders in the Rue Morgue was cold, in large part due to the film’s shocking violence and awkward acting. Despite finishing the film under budget, Robert Florey hit the apex of his career with Murders in the Rue Morgue. The disapproval from Universal executives took its toll, and given that Florey was on a one-film contract with the studio, he never returned. The French American director would bounce around studios over the next decade – from Paramount to Warner Bros. back to Paramount to Columbia and back to Warner Bros. – mostly working on inexpensive B-pictures, occasionally making a hit such as The Beast with Five Fingers (1946). Florey spent his later career with television anthologies: Alfred Hitchcock Presents, Four Star Playhouse, and The Twilight Zone.

For Lugosi, Murders in the Rue Morgue was the true first step for the horror film typecasting that he sought to avoid. Once considered by Universal’s executives to be the successor to the late Lon Chaney (The Man of a Thousand Faces passed away in 1930), the failure of Murders in the Rue Morgue among audiences and critics gave Universal pause when it came to extending Lugosi’s original contract. But the early 1930s were Lugosi’s most productive period in films, and they contained his finest, most memorable performances.

In recent decades, the reputation of Murders in the Rue Morgue continues to gradually improve, as do many films that once caused a stir due to their content during the pre-Code years. Awkward supporting actors aside, when one has Béla Lugosi cloaked in the shadows of German Expressionism and the spirit (albeit not so much intentions of the original text) of Edgar Allan Poe, what results is a foreboding work, one worthy to carry Universal’s horror legacy.

My rating: 7/10

^ Based on my personal imdb rating. My interpretation of that ratings system can be found in the “Ratings system” page on my blog. Half-points are always rounded down.

For more of my reviews tagged “My Movie Odyssey”, check out the tag of the same name on my blog.

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