THE INVISIBLE MAN: Legacy Collection - Blu-ray (Universal 1933-51) Universal Home Video

Universal fell back on a time-honored horror masterpiece, bringing H.G. Wells’ The Invisible Man (1933) to life, starring the inimitable Claude Rains. But Wells’ nightmarish terror presented something of a challenge in that its star was never to be seen. Instead, special effects trickery would create the illusion of an absence, while Rains played virtually all his scenes wrapped in a swath of bandages and dark goggles. However, Universal knew what it was doing when it cast Rains; an instantly recognizable voice infused with a mellifluous sincerity capable of pulling off the seemingly impossible feat of making an audience care for someone who ‘visually’ – at least – is not present. As directed by James Whale, The Invisible Man is really part tragedy/part horror; the tale of a man whose all-consuming passion to tap into the unknown sciences destroys his chances at earthly happiness and, ultimately, corrupts a brilliant mind. And Rains gives us this wounded genius with more than a modicum of empathy even as his intellect disintegrates into madness. The Invisible Man was another massive hit for Universal, off and running with their monster franchise that literally saved the studio from bankruptcy. It seems the public fascination with the unknown knew no boundaries or end. But it only appeared that way. In the intervening decades, revolving management at the studio would prove the classic monsters own worst enemy, flooding the market with so many monster mash-ups they quickly became passé. The Invisible Man franchise suffers this indignation twofold; first, by losing its original star (Rains’ character dies at the end of the first movie and, unlike the Frankenstein monster, is never resurrected thereafter) and second, by applying the gimmick of ‘invisibility’ to multiple characters thereafter (so, no continuity whatsoever, the franchise shifting from horror to comedy and, worst of all, camp, to sustain four legitimate sequels and one Abbott and Costello knockoff). 

Claude Rains had not been the first choice to play the doomed scientist. But he proved the only choice after Boris Karloff, Chester Morris and Colin Clive all turned it down first. Rains is Dr. Jack Griffin, a reclusive stranger newly arrived in a tiny English hamlet. His presence startles innkeeper, Mr. Hall (Forrest Harvey) and his wife (Una O’Connor); enough for Hall to order him out of his establishment. But when the police arrive, Griffin disrobes to reveal he is, in fact, invisible. Tearing off into the night, Griffin is identified only by his hysterical cackle. This continues to terrorize the town. Soon, however, Griffin will turn to the dark side of his lesser self – the mad scientist, determined to destroy the world rather than save it from the oblivion of war. Eventually the town comes to know Griffin from Flora Cranley (Gloria Stuart) who is desperately in love with him...or rather, the man he used to be. The good doctor had been experimenting with ‘monocane’; a dangerous drug that rendered another test subject - Griffin’s dog – invisible, but insane. Naturally, Flora’s father, Dr. Cranley (Henry Travers) is most concerned, even more so when Griffin forces Cranley’s assistant, Dr. Kemp (William Harrigan) to become his cohort in a plot to take over the world.

Kemp attempts to alert the authorities. But, after Griffin overhears a police officer declaring the whole thing to be a colossal hoax, he decides to murder him simply to prove otherwise. Later, Kemp telephones Cranley who brings Flora with him to subdue Griffin from committing more murders. The plan backfires, and Griffin derails a train, killing many. In retaliation, the police offer a reward to anyone who can devise a plan to capture Griffin. The chief detective (Dudley Digges) uses Kemp as bait to lure Griffin out of hiding. He dresses Kemp in an officer’s uniform and orders him to drive his car away from his house. But once the vehicle is out of range, Griffin reveals he has been hiding in the backseat all along and helps steer the car and Kemp over the edge of a cliff. Seeking shelter inside a nearby barn one snowy night, Griffin is ‘found’ by a farmer who just happens to notice his hay stack is ‘snoring’. The police arrive and mortally wound Griffin. With Flora at his bedside Griffin admits his experiments were evil and self-destructive; his body gradually re-materializing as he slowly expires.

The Invisible Man is a provocative tale, tapping into man's desire to be autonomous in society: to act exactly as he pleases without fear of reprisals. R.C. Sherriff’s screenplay (with unaccredited assists from Preston Sturges and Philip Wylie) intelligently grapples with the psychological ramifications of this fantastic fiction. The debate is age-old. How do we know ourselves if not by the reflection we see in a mirror – our very sense of self-identification wrapped up in this visual context we can only know second-hand? Remember, a reflection is the reverse of what actually is; ergo, even what we witness in a mirror is not entirely truthful. Nevertheless, it is what we identify as our essence of being. For Dr. Griffin, the absence of this tangible façade is enough to drive him mad. He reacts as he never would under normal circumstances, becoming power-crazed. Griffin’s sense of empowerment is what gradually warps his sanity into a superiority complex.

Claude Rains delivers a knockout performance. An actor who graced many a Warner Bros. melodrama throughout the 1940’s, Rains is a superior presence – even when shielded from our view by the camera’s cosmetic trickery of rotoscoping. Rains, who suffered horribly from a speech impediment (an inability to pronounce his ‘R’s’) overcame this failing and later claimed being gassed in WWI resulted in his voice acquiring its trademark silky smoothness, the epitome of suave sophistication. A diminutive man, physically speaking, Rains on film was never anything less than towering and magnetic. Today, he remains a much beloved character actor, most readily identified as the oily prefect of police, Louis Renault in Casablanca (1942). In The Invisible Man, Rains is very much on his way in building a career; his sophisticate’s air a bit raw with minor pomp factored in.

The movie is also blessed to have Gloria Stuart and Henry Travers. Every studio had its own stock company during its heyday. But Universal’s seems particularly adept at achieving a high-minded believability, particularly when dealing with the supernatural – a subject easily to otherwise degenerate into rank bad taste and even more deadly comic relief.  The Invisible Man achieves its modicum of looming disaster primarily because of Rains. He builds on the gradual mental deterioration, a sort of dramatic unraveling more startling as Griffin unfurls his bandages before a startled gathering to expose his nothingness underneath.  The Invisible Man is top drawer entertainment; a real bone-chiller with exemplary production values and a peerless performance by its star.

Perhaps because Rains’ character died at the end of the original movie, it took Universal nearly 7 years to figure out a way to resuscitate the franchise. When it did, director James Whale was out and Joe May in; The Invisible Man Returns not so much a follow-up, but a departure from the original story, applying the trick of invisibility to an entirely new story. Under the auspices of Wells himself, screenplay by Lester Cole and Kurt Siodmak does its level best to utterly waste a brilliant cast, including such luminaries as Vincent Price, Cecil Kellaway, Sir Cedric Hardwicke, and Alan Napier.  Owing to its extensive and Oscar-nominated SFX by John P. Fulton, Bernard B. Brown and William Hedgcock the production ran slightly over budget. Nevertheless, it recouped its outlay at the box office. Alas, what The Invisible Man Returns lacks is mood and atmosphere; Milton R. Krasner’s cinematography is fairly straight forward. The story now concerns Geoffrey Radcliffe (Vincent Price), sentenced to death for a murder he did not commit. Dr. Frank Griffin (John Sutton), brother of the original invisible man, injects the condemned prisoner with the invisibility drug so Radcliffe can perform a Houdini from his prison cell.  

Enter Scotland Yard’s Detective Sampson (Cecil Kellaway) whose conjecture of the crime exonerates Radcliffe of any wrong doing while Radcliffe continues to hunt for the real murderer. It is a perilous race against time, as the invisibility drug will cause him to go utterly insane. Aside: given this known side effect it is a sincere wonder why so many people in subsequent ‘invisible man’ movies would subject themselves to it. As for Radcliffe, he is heir apparent to a prominent family business in the local mining industry, Radcliffe’s own suspicions are stirred when the slippery Willie Spears (Alan Napier) is promoted from within the company. Forcing Spear’s car off the road, Radcliffe gets the cowardly man to confess. It was Radcliffe’s own cousin, Richard Cobb (Sir Cedric Hardwicke) who is the real murderer. Radcliffe now confronts Cobb, and, after a perilous chase, ending in Cobb’s death, the truth is revealed to Det. Sampson, who has inadvertently wounded Radcliffe with a stray bullet. Almost succumbing to his wounds, Radcliffe is spared by loyal employees who volunteer to donate blood. Their transfusion makes Radcliffe whole again, allowing doctors to operate and save his life. Aside: this plot is almost entirely regurgitated for Abbott and Costello Meet The Invisible Man (1951). More on this later.  

Thematically, The Invisible Man Returns is much more of a whodunit than a classic tale of horror. The story is flimsy at best and never involving beyond the usual round of clichés and a stirring chase sequence to cap off the mystery. Nevertheless, the picture made money. It was followed by an even greater departure, released the same year; A. Edward Sutherland’s The Invisible Woman (1940). Veering haplessly into classic screwball comedy, The Invisible Woman’s light touch, at least in hindsight, also seems to foreshadow Universal’s whimsy to eventually team Bud Abbott and Lou Costello for a monster mash-up only a few years later. But for now, the screenplay cobbled together by Robert Lees, Frederic I. Rinaldo and Gertrude Purcell involves amiable millionaire, Dick Russell (John Howard) blindly funding a dotty inventor, Professor Gibbs (John Barrymore as the playfully mad scientist). Russell, a notorious lady’s man, and not terribly ambitious, is startled when Gibb’s professes to have ‘discovered’ a machine, in conjunction with an injection (oh, so now we are getting technical) that can make people invisible. Apparently, neither is aware of the events transpired in the first two movies.  Kitty Carroll (Virginia Bruce), a department store model, fed up with her sadistic boss, Mr. Growley (Charles Lane), elects to be Gibb’s experiment, and shortly thereafter, returns to her former employer sans body to briefly terrorize him into becoming a better man.

Meanwhile, having heard of Gibb’s device, exiled gangster, Blackie Cole (Oscar Homolka) sends in his goon squad (including future Three Stooges’ alumni, Shemp Howard) to steal the device. Too bad, having successfully made off with Gibb’s machine, no one can figure out how it works. As Kitty’s invisibility is only temporary – and does not induce insanity – she materializes as her former self. Cole’s numbskulls kidnap her and Gibb. In the meantime, an interesting wrinkle develops. Kitty learns that by consuming alcohol she can re-trigger her invisibility. Now, she exploits this anomaly to free herself and Gibb with Russell – who has since been convinced Gibb is onto something – assisting in their escape from the baddies. In the movie’s epilogue we discover Kitty and Russell are wed and have a son. Alas, mother has passed along the aftereffects of invisibility to her infant who, having been rubbed with an alcohol-based lotion, suddenly vanishes before their very eyes.

By now, critical response to the franchise was hardly praise-worthy; the New York Times calling The Invisible Woman, “silly, banal and repetitious”. Indeed, the screenplay is only marginally interested in telling a story – competently or otherwise – and very much focused on finding cute ways to shoehorn the gimmick of invisibility into virtually every scene. Nevertheless, as with the previous sequel, The Invisible Woman made money. Not about to let the critics stand in the way of pure profit, Universal was already hard at work on another installment in the franchise. Director Edwin L. Marin’s The Invisible Agent (1942) is the result; a mash-up of the spy thriller, grafted onto the original invisible man, besieged by both the U.S. government and spurious rogue agents working for Hitler’s Reich to give up the formula first created by his grandfather. Returning to the writing duties, Curt Sidomak’s screenplay desperately tries to lend credence to yet another variation on the classic yarn. But the ‘thriller’ aspects in this spy hokum increasingly are mired by some flimsy bits of slapstick comedy that ruin the general tone of dark foreboding.

We meet Frank Raymond (Jon Hall), the grandson of the original invisible man, unassumingly toiling in a small printer’s shop. Indeed, Raymond wants nothing to do with the past. Alas, it will not stay buried as Nazi agent, Conrad Stauffer (Cedric Hardwicke) and Baron Ikito (Peter Lorre), a Japanese, arrive with a trio of goons to threaten and rough up the young man in the hopes of gaining access to the formula. Raymond refuses and, despite being outnumbered, manages a daring escape. Very reluctantly, he agrees to allow the U.S. government access to the formula, but on one condition. It is only to be used on him. Enthusiastically, the officials concur and Raymond is sent to Berlin to contact his allied agents; an aged coffin-maker, Arnold Schmidt (Albert Basserman), and slinky spy, Maria Sorenson (Ilona Massey) who has finagled her way as a love interest for both Stauffer and the Gestapo’s Standartenführer Karl Heiser (J. Edward Bromberg). Jealousy seeps into this plan. Raymond repeatedly foils Heiser’s romantic overtures toward Maria.

Learning of their failed dinner engagement, Stauffer has Heiser arrested and baits a trap for Raymond. Despite walking into this snare, Raymond – still invisible - obtains the list of Axis agents working in the U.S., setting fire to Stauffer’s office to conceal his getaway. Returning to Arnold Schmidt’s shop, Raymond discovers the old man has already been carted off by the Nazis for interrogation. Meanwhile, a somewhat frantic Strauffer attempts to conceal from Ikito the loss of the list. As neither trust the other, both Stauffer and Ikito begin separate quests to unearth the whereabouts of the invisible agent responsible for its theft. Meanwhile, Raymond manages to sneak into Heiser’s prison cell. In exchanged for allowing Heiser to go free, Raymond demands to know the exact attack plans the Nazis have for the United States. Raymond abandons Heiser to return to Schmidt’s shop. He is taken prisoner by Ikito’s men, who drop a fish hook net to subdue him. Schmidt is no fool. He telephones Stauffer with Ikito’s activities. Raymond and Maria are taken prisoner to the Japanese embassy but again manage an escape after Stauffer arrives. Their joint failure to safeguard the list results in Ikito killing Stauffer before performing seppuku (ritual suicide) as Heiser looks on from the shadows.

Assuming command, Heiser is too late to prevent Raymond and Maria from boarding one of the bombers slated for the New York invasion. The couple fly over the German airfield and destroy the rest of the planes. At ground level, men still loyal to Stauffer assume Heiser has murdered their commander and assassinate him in return. Raymond presumably succumbs to injuries sustained in their escape before he can radio ahead and inform the Allies that the list has been saved. Maria parachutes the list to safety and later, in hospital, we learn Raymond has not died. Actually, he has regained visibility. Vouching for Maria’s complicity as an Allied double-agent, Raymond and Maria are reunited. Desperately in love, the couple vow to spend this time together getting to know one another better. The Invisible Agent, like all invisible man movies gone before it, proved a profit center for the studio. Critics were again divided on its virtues, but the luscious Ilona Massey proved enough of an elixir to abate whatever artistic shortcomings the picture possessed. And so, director Ford Beebe had his shot at the franchise with 1944’s The Invisible Man’s Revenge; arguably, the most bizarre departure. Re-casting Jon Hall seemed like solid box office insurance, as his appearance (or lack thereof) in the previous film proved a winner with audiences. Only this time, Hall is the villain of the piece; Robert Griffin - a psychopathic killer newly escaped from a Cape Town mental institution.

Griffin wants revenge on the seemingly ‘respectable’ Herrick family: Sir Jasper (Lester Matthews), lady Irene (Gale Sondergaard), and their daughter Julie (Evelyn Ankers). At present, invested, the family is getting to know Julie’s new boyfriend, newspaper journalist, Mark Foster (Alan Curtis). Griffin isolates Jasper and Irene, accusing both of having left him for dead in the African wilds while they were on a diamond field expedition. The couple denies this, and furthermore inform Griffin no profits were derived from their search as a series of bad investments have literally wiped them out. Refusing to believe this, Griffin next proposes the aristocrats should allow him to marry Julie as recompense. Instead, Irene drugs Griffin with a cocktail. The couple search his person, discovering the mutual signed agreement they all entered into and, after stealing this contract, they toss Griffin out. He nearly drowns as a result, but is spared and restored to health by a cobbler, Herbert Higgins (Leon Errol). Making several more unsuccessful attempts at his claim, Griffin encounters Dr. Peter Drury (John Carradine) a scientist conducting invisibility experiments at his home-based laboratory. Griffin convinces Drury to test his formula on him. Unaware of Griffin’s motivations, Drury complies and Griffin is rendered invisible and free to terrorize the Herricks.

Griffin forces Jasper to sign over his estate to him. Jasper also agrees to allow Griffin to marry Julie, should he be restored to his old self. Witnessing Drury restore the visibility of his dog, Griffin, now utterly mad, breaks into the laboratory, beating Drury unconscious. He uses Drury’s blood to make himself visible again. However, during the transfusion the doctor dies and Griffin, determined he should not be discovered, sets ablaze the lab before police can investigate the crime. Rechristening himself as Martin Fields – the new proprietor of the Herrick estate, Griffin moves in with the family. Realizing what has become of the man he saved, Herbert now attempts to blackmail Griffin. Instead, Griffin offers to pay off the cobbler if he kills Drury’s dog who has followed him back to the estate after the fire. Alas, all does not go according to plan. In the middle of breakfast, Griffin begins to lose his visibility. Panicked, he retreats and lures Julie’s fiancé Mark to the wine cellar, where he pummels him unconscious before commencing on a second recuperative blood transfusion. Having unearthed enough clues as to the cause of the fire, Chief constable Travers (Leyland Hodgson), Herbert and Jasper break into the cellar and prevent the transfusion from killing Mark. Griffin is mauled to death by Drury’s dog, leaving Mark to explain how Griffin went insane.

The Invisible Man’s Revenge was not a smash hit. Indeed, audiences had at last tired of these variations on an all too familiar theme. Universal concurred, though they were not entirely ready to abandon the franchise. At this juncture in their corporate history, Universal had come to rely rather heavily on their monster mash-ups to keep them financially sound; also, on the comedy team of Bud Abbott and Lou Costello, whose programmers rivaled the monsters in profits, if hardly prestige. As with the monster movies, Universal’s saturation of Bud and Lou comedies eventually created too much of a good thing and profits began to dip. Fortuitously, Universal had an answer to both dilemmas. Why not take their number one box office draws and combine them? And thus, with 1948’s Abbott and Costello meet Frankenstein, an entirely new – and highly lucrative – franchise was born. At the very end of A&C meet Frankenstein, Vincent Price’s voice can be heard, cackling as Bud and Lou vacate a creaky row boat used in their escape from Castle Dracula; Price, re-introducing himself to audiences as ‘the invisible man’. Alas, by the time director, Charles Lamont’s Abbott and Costello Meet the Invisible Man (1951) went into production Price was replaced by Arthur Franz as Tommy Nelson, a prize fighter desperate to exonerate himself.

As far as the ‘A&C’s meet the monsters’ movies go, ‘The Invisible Man’ is not a terrible foray, though it proved somewhat less than engrossing. By 1951, Bud and Lou were no longer as spry or as popular; Bud’s epilepsy greatly to have diminished his comedic timing. Thinly rebranded as Lou Francis and Bud Alexander, A&C are a pair of private detectives investigating the murder of a boxing promoter. Tommy Nelson, a middleweight accused of the crime and newly escaped from prison, pleads his case to Bud and Lou. Together, they arrive at the home of Tommy’s fiancée, Helen (Nancy Guild) whose uncle, Dr. Philip Gray (Gavin Muir) has developed a serum that can make people invisible.  Stop me if you have heard this one before.  Ennui creeps into the peripheries of Abbott and Costello Meet The Invisible Man almost immediately thereafter, with a plot suspiciously similar to The Invisible Man Returns.  Refusing to partake of the experiment, as Gray is certain it will likely lead to madness, Tommy waits until Gray is looking the other way, then injects himself with the powerful drug, moments before the police arrive. Detective Roberts (William Frawley) has many inquiries for Dr. Gray and Helen. Meanwhile, a perplexed Bud and Lou search for Tommy.

Revealing himself to Helen only, next Tommy convinces Bud and Lou to pursue the real killer. It seems Tommy was ordered to ‘throw’ a fight. Instead, he knocked out his opponent, Rocky Hanlon (John Day). The promoter who fixed the match, Morgan (Sheldon Leonard), a shadowy underworld figure, likely had Tommy’s manager beaten to death, framing Tommy for the crime. In order to enter Morgan’s world, Bud convinces Lou to pose as a boxer, with him as his manager. At Stillwell’s gym, Lou gets into the ring with Rocky – a real killer. Mercifully, Tommy puts his invisibility to good use, throwing real punches on Lou’s behalf, absolutely astounding Morgan and his cronies with lightning fast punches.  Certain Lou is the next champion he can make a mint off, Morgan plans an official match but urges Lou to throw the fight.  Disregarding the plan, Lou – with Tommy as his ace – again, beats Rocky to a pulp.  In reply, Morgan plots to murder Bud. Firing blindly, it is Tommy who is wounded instead. Rushed to hospital for a transfusion, Lou donates blood to the ailing prize fighter.  Alas, during the transfusion some of Tommy’s blood enters Lou. He briefly turns invisible, only to rematerialize with his legs inexplicably put on backwards.

A&C meet The Invisible Man proved the unofficial finale to Universal’s initial wave of Invisible Man movies. In the interim there have been other attempts to resurrect the genre as everything from a cheesy Chevy Chase screwball comedy (Memoirs of an Invisible Man, 1992) to yet another variation on the prototypical horror/sci-fi classic (Hollow Man, 2000). In the end, it is Universal’s original classic that shines through, chiefly because of its inspired performance by Claude Rains and the mind-boggling and then, revolutionary special effects by John Fulton. Returning to the well – and Wells - for subsequent inspiration and installments has not blunted the impact of James Whale’s original film. In fact, it only serves to illustrate and solidify its virtues more clearly with the passage of time. And, as time goes by the chances of any other ‘invisible-themed’ hokum coming along to eclipse its reputation seems not only highly unlikely, but downright impossible.

Universal has finally come around to remastering the remainder of The Invisible Man movies in their franchise. It only took them four years since the debut of the original movie on Blu-ray. The results, however, are mixed. While the transfers all sport a relatively clean image, with the exception of the original 1933 classic, the rest of the transfers seem to have had DNR liberally applied. While the images are never waxy, film grain has been virtually eradicated for a visual presentation not altogether film-like, despite it being film-based. Contrast on The Invisible Man Returns and The Invisible Agent appears to have been marginally boosted. Also, on The Invisible Agent, the second reel suffers from some mis-registration issues, creating distracting – if temporary halos that mimic edge effects. This problem corrects itself after the first fifteen minutes and mercifully, never resurfaces. Overall, the tonality in these B&W images preserves a considerable amount of fine detail. Close-ups are very impressive across all six movies, but long and medium shots tend to waver between a visual crispness and other scenes looking fuzzy or marginally unclear. Overall, there is nothing here to discourage the viewer. Still, when compared to the extraordinary care afforded the original movie, one cannot but acknowledge the rest of its sequels have not been given as much loving care by comparison. Pity that. The audio on all six movies is DTS mono and adequate for these hi-def presentations. Extras are limited to those that accompanied Uni’s original single movie release: an audio commentary from Rudy Behlmer, an informative featurette on the making of the original 1933 classic and a still’s gallery and theatrical trailers. Bottom line: The Invisible Man is a classic and has been given the utmost care. The rest of the movies are unevenly represented, both in terms of their artistic merit and Blu-ray remastering. Judge and buy accordingly.

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

The Invisible Man – 5+

The Invisible Man Returns - 3

The Invisible Woman – 3.5

The Invisible Agent - 3

The Invisible Man’s Revenge – 3

Abbott and Costello Meet The Invisible Man – 3.5

VIDEO/AUDIO

The Invisible Man – 5

The Invisible Man Returns - 4

The Invisible Woman - 4

The Invisible Agent - 3

The Invisible Man’s Revenge - 3

Abbott and Costello Meet The Invisible Man – 4

EXTRAS

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