THE OLD DARK HOUSE: Blu-ray (Universal, 1932) Cohen Media Group

Director James Whale and screenwriters, R. C. Sherriff, and, Benn W. Levy make atmospheric gumbo of The Old Dark House (1932), a thoroughly moody, but mostly leaden and misguided attempt to recapture the Gothic horror of Whale’s monumental Frankenstein, made and released the previous year. The Old Dark House is based on ‘Benighted’ a novel by J.B. Priestley, following the exploits of six frightened strangers, laid up in a doomed manor house during a hellish thunderstorm. Whale gets a lot of mileage out of this premise; also, Russell A. Gausman’s set decoration, expertly lit and photographed by cinematographer extraordinaire, Arthur Edeson. But it is all for not as our superb cast gets mired in an episodic and not altogether prepossessing series of bizarre vignettes, intermittently peppered by some light, and equally as out-of-touch bits of comedy – mostly timed at the expense of Charles Laughton’s English lord, Sir William Porterhouse; a crass ole bugger who bought his title, and, apparently, the affections of his mistress, Gladys DuCane/Perkins (Lilian Bond), already on the wane and being rechanneled toward the infamously lazy bon vivant, Roger Penderel (Melvyn Douglas, as a bad boy?!?). Also, along for the scares and silliness are caustic marrieds, Philip (Raymond Massey) and Margaret Waverton (Gloria Stuart), who begin the picture at each other’s throats but wind up aligned in their mutual fear of the Femm clan – proprietors of this curiously castle-esque estate. It was a dark and stormy night…stop me if you have heard this one before.

The Femms are a queer bunch, fronted by the perpetually quizzical and fragile, Horace (Ernest Thesiger), his embittered and beady-eyed harridan of a sister, Rebecca (Eva Moore), the practically mummified and bedridden Sir Roderick (Elspeth ‘billed as John’ Dudgeon), and, his mad-as-a-hatter ‘younger’ brother, Saul (Brember Wills, in the gender flipside of Jane Eyre’s crazy ole lady, locked in the attic). The family is attended by Morgan (Boris Karloff, top-billed, and, once again evocatively disfigured by makeup artist, Jack Pierce’s masterful collodion and spirit gum applications), a horrifically scarred, perpetually lumbering and boozy/mute butler who intermittently breaks apart furniture and harbors a pseudo-erotic yen for Margaret. In Philip’s absence, Morgan pursues Maggie around the dining table. Cast wise, The Old Dark House has much going for it. That it all seems to fall apart almost from the moment the Wavertons, with Penderel in tow, intrude upon the usual macabre taking place at Casa Femm, is thus a real letdown. But the plot, such as it is, falls apart and quickly degenerates into the sort of ‘okay…what’s next?’ mishmash that makes for some dizzying, frantic moments never to actually come together and thoroughly haunt us.

We begin in earnest with the arrival of Philip, Margaret and Roger, quite lost in the storm, and barely escaping both a flash flood and landslide en route to ‘the old dark house’ in the Welsh countryside. Curiously, none of the cast even attempt a Welsh accent. Very reluctantly, they are given shelter by Horace, against the strenuous objections of Rebecca, a vial old crone. Horace is a nervous lot, forewarning this trio of trespassers that the family’s butler, Morgan, drinks like a fiend and is apt to become uncontrollably violent. Karloff’s beastly goon is, actually, the best thing in The Old Dark House. He conveys so much with only body language to support his performance. Under duress, Rebecca escorts the sopping wet Margaret to an upstairs bedroom where she regales her with the Femm family’s legacy - sinful and godless. Perhaps owing to her jealousy of the much younger and strikingly beautiful Margaret, who slips into a rather slinky silken evening gown, Rebecca accuses her too of being immoral. Rebecca also reveals that her 102-yr-old father, Sir Roderick still lives, bedridden in an upstairs room.

The Wavertons and Penderel settle in for the night. They are offered light supper; the meal intruded upon by the slovenly Sir William Porterhouse who, along with his mistress, chorine Gladys DuCane, have also become lost in the gale. Getting further acquainted around a roaring fire, Gladys reveals ‘DuCane’ is just a stage name. She was born Gladys Perkins. Roger suggests the mood might be lightened by a little libation; a bottle of whiskey left in the Waverton’s car currently parked in the shed behind the house.  Gladys elects to accompany Roger to the garage to retrieve it. At this juncture, predictably, the lights go out; always the trigger to split up our remaining cast so the true horror can begin. Curiously, however, this never happens. Rebecca orders Horace to get a lamp from the upstairs landing. The petrified Horace is slightly calmed when Philip offers to accompany him. But only one flight up, Horace implores Philip to go the rest of the way alone. Unknowing, Philip agrees. He finds the lamp, along with a plate of half-eaten food on a table next to a bolted and locked door. Meanwhile, Morgan – very drunk – attacks Margaret, chasing her around the dining table. Terrorized, Margaret ascends the stairs and is rejoined by her husband, who defends her honor by striking and knocking Morgan down the first flight of stairs.

We regress to the garage where Roger and Gladys, after some mild flirting, have already begun to fall in love. Fast action, folks…and very nice work if you can get it! The rather forthright Gladys claims a platonic partnership with the much older Sir William before making her sly pitch to live with Roger instead. Undaunted by her liberated sexuality, Roger concurs. They should run away together. So, the couple returns to the main house to inform William of their new arrangement. Interestingly, he is hardly angered or disgusted by this change of events. Evidently, his hopes for a love affair with Gladys were not as prescient. Meanwhile, Philip and Margaret discover a decrepit Sir Roderick, peacefully resting in a stately – and oddly enough, cozy – bedroom. He forewarns them of the eldest prodigal, Saul, a notorious pyromaniac kept under lock and key in the attic for his own good and everyone else’s safety. Too late, everyone discovers Morgan has freed Saul. Charging at the group, Morgan is wrestled by Roger, Philip and William, who can barely manage him. Rebecca locks herself in her bedroom and Philip orders Margaret and Gladys to barricade themselves in the pantry.

Saul descends the stairs and, appearing old and infirmed, pleads with Roger not to return him to the attic. Roger’s compassion proves his undoing as Saul, now, is transformed into precisely the sort of raving psychotic. Possessing superhuman strength, Saul pummels the more youthful Roger into submission. Saul seizes a flaming log from the hearth and sets afire a large tapestry handing from the balcony. Roger momentarily regains consciousness. But in his feeble attempt to prevent the fire, both he and Saul tumble from the second story balcony into the dining hall, presumably to their deaths. Indeed, Saul has perished in the fall. But Roger shows weakened signs of life and is attended to by Gladys. After attempting to assault Gladys and Margaret, Morgan is shown Saul’s body. The lumbering giant buckles with sadness over the loss, carrying Saul’s lifeless body back to the attic. At the break of dawn, Roger regains consciousness and sincerely proposes marriage to Gladys as everyone prepares to leave the old dark house for the last time.

The Old Dark House was largely dismissed by both critics and audiences in 1932. I can certainly see why. It simply fails to catch either the tail fires of Whale’s Frankenstein or tries much too hard to become something it is not – a would-be masterpiece of ‘horror’. Whale would have likely preferred ‘suspense’. Yet, this too is never achieved. It is difficult, if not downright impossible, to become invested in the comings and goings of six strangers whose character traits are as cartoony and cardboard cutout as anything ever seen on the screen. Worse, there is no dramatic arc to the piece. The moments of ‘suspense’ that do arise seem to come out of left field with little or no build-up to prepare the audience. There is nothing even remotely compelling about the way this whole ugly, but decidedly little affair is cobbled together, as though, from the remnants after Dr. Frankenstein finished constructing his monster.   Screenwriter, Ben Levy (on loan out from Paramount) and Whale had conspired the year before on Waterloo Bridge (1931) – a most impressive offering. Only this time around, Levy is lost, or rather mired by the particulars of J. B. Priestley novel about post-World War I disillusionment – badly bungled with inserts of crudely assembled comedy.

Perhaps justly, audiences did not gravitate to The Old Dark House in 1932 as Universal had hoped. Variety labeled it a ‘somewhat inane picture’. Personally, I think they were being too kind here.  There is little to deny audience reaction to The Old Dark House. Although booked for 3 weeks at New York’s Rialto Theater, attendance dramatically dropped off after only 10 days. Negative press and bad word of mouth sank its prospects in virtually every major city thereafter. Ironically, the picture did better in Britain where it even broke records and was actually afforded a reissue in 1939. In 1957, Universal Studios failed to renew the rights and in 1963 schlockmeister, William Castle offered audiences his failed take on The Old Dark House. Perhaps due to its obscurity, in the interim since, Whale’s original has garnered a reputation as a pre-eminent gothic horror classic, spared the indignation of becoming a ‘lost film’ by Whale’s friend and curator, Curtis Harrington who, after an exhaustive search in 1968, persuaded George Eastman House to preserve The Old Dark House for posterity. While today’s critics have been far more forgiving of the picture’s monumental shortcomings, oddly charmed by its ‘impressively atmospheric and hilariously grim’, if less than grand guignol, The Old Dark House really is more of an anomaly in the Universal canon of horror classics. It does not represent Whale at his creative peak, but rather effectively serves to illustrate even geniuses have their misfires and follies to bear.

Cohen Media Group have helped restore and remaster The Old Dark House on Blu-ray. Likely due to its rarely seen status, also Curtis Harrington’s concerted efforts to archive it along the way, the original camera negative is in astonishingly good shape. The B&W elements simply sparkle with remarkable clarity. Contrast is superb, film grain accurately balanced, and fine detail abounding throughout with virtually no presence of age-related artifacts. Truly, there is nothing to complain about here. The 2.0 DTS mono is equally impressive. Less so are the extras Cohen offers up. We get a fairly engaging interview with Sara Karloff – Boris’ daughter. This is a newly recorded piece and well worth the price of admission. But the ‘interview’ with Curtis Harrington – obviously recorded several decades earlier – is badly represented here, with poor video quality and truncated besides. It begins and ends in the middle with no introduction or closure to the discussion. There are two audio commentaries to consider; neither particularly good – the first, from Gloria Stuart, who at least exhibits remarkable recall in discussing a picture she made nearly 70 years earlier: the other, belatedly provided by biographer, James Curtis. Curtis does not even begin his track until well after the credits have rolled and then, only intermittently does he speak, preferring to let the movie’s soundtrack play with long pauses in between. Boring! Finally, we get the 2017 trailer, plus trailers for other Cohen product, annoyingly to precede the movie. Bottom line: The Old Dark House is not a classic nor a masterpiece. Although it sports a very fine cast and many of Whale’s inspired creative touches, it never comes across as dramatically compelling or even mildly scary. Regrets.

FILM RATING (out of 5 – 5 being the best)

2

VIDEO/AUDIO

5+

EXTRAS

3