HOUSE OF WAX: Blu-ray re-issue (Warner Bros., 1953) Warner Archive

Perhaps the most remarkable aspect of House of Wax (1953) is its director, Hungarian-born Andre De Toth had only one eye, thereby denying him the depth perception grossly exaggerated in this rather gimmicky, but lavishly mounted turn-of-the-century 3D fright-fest. House of Wax is a pseudo-remake of Michael Curtiz’s two-strip Technicolor classic, Mysteries of the Wax Museum (1933). The plot, as scripted by Crane Wilbur, based on Charles S. Belden’s The Wax Works, is basically the same, but given the added on-the-nose touch of stereoscopic photography - objects and people being hurled at the screen – to its own artistic detriment. I suppose I ought to preface this review by stating I am decidedly not a proponent of the third dimension…in general, House of Wax being the exception to that rule. 3D draws the viewer away and out of the traditional cinema narrative, unnecessarily interrupting plot and sacrificing dramatic integrity for the thirty-second ‘in your face’ surprise that makes the audience duck, dodge or otherwise cringe in their seats. Like 3-camera Cinerama, 3D is really about the process more than what is being featured on the screen. You could shoot a flock of geese migrating south, as long as they appeared to pass from the proscenium into the theater, and, at least half the audience will pay just to see the illusion. But in the end, one is reminded of the silliness in the exercise rather than awed by the propensity of its staying power.  

3D, in its initial run had a very short life – basically from 1952 to 1954 – with perhaps a handful of titles worthy of mention for resurrection today - House of Wax among them; House of Wax, arguably, best of all. 3D was actually a novelty invented in Britain for still images in the late 1890's, much later resurrected in North America by various competing interests in 1922 on celluloid. Even then, 3D had no real purpose: certainly, not as a way of producing full-length movies. Hollywood in its heyday paid the stereoscopic process virtually no mind at all. They didn’t need it. And 3D, because of its complex two-camera set up and even more complicated two-camera projection, could not accommodate a full feature without imposing an intermission - awkward and unnecessary for any movie running less than two hours. But in cash-strapped post-war Hollywood, with the threat of television looming large on the horizon and theater attendance dropping by half, 3D suddenly looked like a good investment to get patrons back into theaters. After all, it offered audiences something they could not see in the comfort of their own living rooms.  The desperation inside the studios’ front offices must have been very great, the marketing campaign behind 3D almost as queer as the process itself.

At least in hindsight, 3D bastardizes the concept of ‘a night out at the movies’ by devolving its artistic importance from the status of a major event on par with live theater, and, geared mostly to adults (who used to dress up for it), to a popcorn-muncher’s oddity of carnival sideshow freaks. Movies in 3D owe more to the novelty than cinema art. So perhaps Warner Bros. was hedging its bets with House of Wax – the Gothic horror genre already considered something of the red-headed stepchild in an industry whose moguls frequently aspired to produce art, but were not above trading on the lowly appeal of some such trickery to make a quick buck. Thus, House of Wax promised chills and shudders along with the added enticement of 3D. And unlike other movies shot quick and dirty, merely to capitalize on the process, House of Wax featured a solid cast and Stanley Fleischer’s production values, photographed in lurid color. I am probably one of a handful who can still recall seeing House of Wax projected in 3D during 3D’s brief renaissance back in 1982. The polarizing effect then was quite good. But seeing the movie several years later on late night television (obviously, projected flat) I was struck by the fact that apart from its more obvious and exploitative moments encumbered by the gimmick (the carnival barker’s bouncing paddle balls, as example), House of Wax really didn’t need 3D to function as basic storytelling (the same way Hitchcock’s Dial M for Murder and George Sidney’s Kiss Me Kate work just as well without it) – the trumpeted ‘depth perception’ adding dimension, undoubtedly, yet no dramatic girth.

House of Wax marks the first full-fledged ‘horror’ movie in Vincent Price’s illustrious career; Price, a 2oth Century-Fox fav’ as the perennial ‘male beauty’ in the mid-1930’s and throughout the 1940’s, tempted us with his obsessive, mentally deranged Nicholas Van Ryn in Dragonwyck (1946) – a superior melodrama that in some ways seems to foreshadow Price’s rise to prominence as the more menacing middle-aged ghoul of all those later Roger Corman flicks. In retrospect, Nicholas Van Ryn proved the perfect segue into Price’s Henry Jarrod in De Toth’s flashy and flavorful grand guignol. House of Wax came to Price at precisely the moment he needed it most; given the opportunity to choose between appearing in hit stagecraft, We’re No Angels, or House of Wax, Price’s decision would give his career an entirely new lease. It also helped to stave off the specter of ‘communist’ sympathies for which Price, along with a goodly sum of his fellow cohorts, had been branded by HUAC – if not, as yet blackballed – from the industry. The oddity of House of Wax is that without 3D its Gothic horror tends to creak like an antique rocking chair, the movie’s original directionalized stereo (long since lost or destroyed) now re-channeled to mono with a very heavy-handed mixture of loud thuds and bombastic chords, and David Buttolph’s ominous score screeching forth from the peripheries of the screen.  3D does more than augment House of Wax. It somehow adds to its visual panache, De Toth making excellent use of the process, at one point, to have Charles Bronson in shadow, suddenly appear to materialize from the audience and race back into the action on the screen.

The story of a mad disfigured artist embalming cadavers from the city morgue, but then graduating to live victims encased in wax in order to mount his lavish chamber of horrors was rather tawdry and perverse fare in 1933. But by Puritanical 1950’s standards, House of Wax grew ever more salacious and – in 3D – deliciously obnoxious – stifled only when De Toth tries too hard for it to be a 3D movie, completely forgetting that it is also supposed to be a really good show. Personally, I have always been perplexed that the highlight of both House of Wax and its 1933 original (the torching of the wax museum for insurance money) occurs roughly 11-minutes into the start, the rest of our story a rather conventional and occasionally tepid ‘whodunit?’ in which the audience already knows ‘who did’ and is merely waiting for the rest of the characters in our story to catch up. None of the resulting machinations – not even with the added ‘appeal’ of 3D - ever rivals the perversion of helplessly observing as these carefully crafted figures in wax, applied with intense heat from a four-alarm blaze set by arson, ‘decompose’ before our very eyes, especially Jarrod’s beloved Marie Antoinette; her blonde wig singed with harsh flames licking from all sides, her eyes reduced to two cinder-block agates of blacked-out coal; all that paraffin adorned in silken, hoop-skirted crinoline, gone up in smoke. This is the moment and the laurel on which the entire movie rests its reputation. And it still works to this very day.

Apart from Vincent Price the rest of House of Wax’s cast is largely forgettable, save a brief appearance by an, as yet unknown Charles Bronson (billed as Charles Buchinsky) as mute sculptor, Igor. Phyllis Kirk, who would briefly find prominence on television’s The Thin Man (1957-1959) and, in fact, steadily appeared on other TV shows throughout the 50’s and 60’s, never to make much of a splash in the movies, is prominently featured in House of Wax as the probing and inquisitive ingénue, Sue Allen; the only one to suspect Jarrod is using real people for more than mere inspiration to build is museum.  Another TV alumnus, Carolyn Jones (of Addams Family fame), isn’t quite so lucky. De Toth’s roster is rounded out by the Warner stock company; Paul Picerni as gifted sculptor, Scott Andrews, Roy Roberts – schemer, Mathew Burke, and, Frank Lovejoy as Lt. Tom Brennan. It is a solid cast to be sure. Yet, none of the principals, apart from Price, have their ‘break out’ moment. This leaves the story curiously off balance, the audience neither invested in plot nor characters, merely tolerating a lot of dumb show in its equilibrium-altering state of 3D.  As such, House of Wax remains a rather artifice-stricken and graceless movie whose most grotesque elements are all invested in these stimuli-stiffening special effects.

We begin our excursion, typically, on a windswept/rain-soaked eve; Prof. Henry Jarrod (Vincent Price) toiling in his wax museum. Jarrod is a true artist. His figures are not of horror but genuine beauty – recreations from history brought magnificently to life; so, life-like, in fact, they illicit awe and admiration from wealthy patron, Sidney Wallace (Paul Cavanagh) who offers to ‘consider’ backing Jarrod’s venture and possibly even investing in a new exhibit. Regrettably, Jarrod’s partner, Matthew Burke (Roy Roberts) remains unimpressed. In fact, he is rather desperate to recoup his own investment, electing to torch Jarrod’s museum for the insurance money. Horrified, Jarrod desperately tries to prevent the destruction of his beloved creations. After a rather brutal fight (in which no opportunity is wasted to hurl furniture and other props at the screen), Jarrod is left unconscious and trapped amidst his burning figures. He stirs and rushes into the adjacent stockroom, the museum’s paraffin and open gas igniting a hellish fireball.

Time passes. Jarrod resurfaces, having survived his ordeal but seemingly wheelchair-bound with outlandishly disfigured hands. Nevertheless, with Wallace’s money and the aid of his mute assistant, Igor, Jarrod has managed to resurrect his dream of opening his House of Wax. This time, however, Jarrod’s creations cater to the more salacious moments in human history; murders, suicides, and other heinous acts of violence. The place is a huge hit with audiences; particularly after the debut of Matthew Burke’s wax figure dangling from a rope – the most recent ‘headline gripping’ suicide brought shockingly to life. What the attendees do not know is that a hideous fiend (actually, Jarrod) broke into Burke’s apartment, strangled him and then dumped the body down an elevator shaft to make it look like a suicide. Later Burke’s corpse was stolen from the morgue and taken back to Jarrod’s museum where it was preserved in wax. Jarrod becomes transfixed by the beauty of Cathy Gray (Carolyn Jones) – a failed chorine and Burke’s ex-girlfriend, living in the same boarding house as art student, Sue Allen (Phyllis Kirk). Not long after, Cathy dies and Sue, haunted by the memory of their last conversation, is disturbed to discover an uncanny ‘likeness’ of Cathy on display inside Jarrod’s wax museum, reconstituted as his Joan of Arc, about to be burned at the stake. 

Sue’s boyfriend, Scott Andrews (Paul Picerni) assures her the resemblance to Cathy is just that – a likeness and nothing more. Matthew introduces Scott to Jarrod as a great sculptor and Jarrod decides to take him on. Sue, however, cannot rid herself of the unsettling feeling Jarrod has not merely captured Cathy’s portrait in wax but has, in fact, somehow managed to embalm her best friend. Jarrod now becomes enamored with Sue as the epitome of his lost ‘Marie Antoinette’ figure. He begs Sue’s indulgence to pose for him. No time like the present, I suppose. For later that same evening Jarrod’s fiend stalks Sue along these vacant Victorian streets, terrorizing and chasing her to Scott’s family home. Mrs. Andrews (Angela Clarke) is empathetic. But when Sue tells both she and Scott of her suspicions about Jarrod neither believes her. Still, Scott turns to the kindly Lt. Tom Brennan (Frank Lovejoy) for answers to quell Sue’s fears. Brennan humors Sue by casually investigating Jarrod at his museum. The fiend returns the next evening, almost successful at whisking Sue from the Andrews’ upstairs bedroom where she sleeps. Sue’s terrific screams ward him off at the last possible moment. Brennan becomes suspicious of Jarrod and decides to have Sgt. Jim Shane (Dabbs Greer) shadow his movements.

But Jarrod has been particularly clever. Sending Scott on an errand to fetch some ‘last minute’ supplies Jarrod now awaits Sue’s arrival at the museum where she has agreed to meet Scott after hours. She enters the House of Wax alone and, in its darkened recesses, is compelled to investigate the Joan of Arc figure, removing its black wig to reveal Cathy’s blond tresses beneath. Jarrod emerges from the shadows, rising from his wheelchair and taking hold of Sue. As they struggle, she breaks his wax mask, revealing (just in case the audience hasn’t already figured it out for themselves) that Jarrod and the disfigured, corpse-stealing fiend are one in the same. Stricken with paralytic fear Sue passes out, is carried by Jarrod to his wax embalming facility beneath the museum and, is prepped for the procedure. Mercifully, Scott has returned, along with Lt. Brennan and Sgt. Shane. The trio save Sue by knocking Jarrod into a bubbling vat of smoldering pink paraffin. Given the monstrous nature of the plot, the tacked-on ‘happy ending’ involving Sue and Scott joking about the discovery of a wax head in Lt. Brennan’s likeness, is rather absurd.

House of Wax is, at times, comically perverse. Its best moment is undeniably the destruction of Jarrod’s first museum. But De Toth also establishes some good spine-tingling moments as Sue begins to suspect Jarrod’s figure of Joan of Arc as the body of her former best friend, Cathy. Fitting the pieces of the puzzle together superficially works – but it has no spark of mystery. We already know Cathy and Joan of Arc are one in the same. If only the screenplay did not suffer from characters too homogenized for their own good or, at times, not even discernible from one another. The dialogue is pedestrian at best, with only Phyllis Kirk sporadically rising above the banter to at least seem genuine. Vincent Price is, of course, exquisite as the seemingly mellifluous and cultured proprietor of this embalmed wax works. Alas, as his alter ego – the disfigured fiend – Price goes way over the top. With his oddly attempted half-limp/part-shuffle, skulking about the deserted streets after Kirk’s screeching ingénue, Price’s malignant gimp takes on the flavor of an over-sized Quasimodo.

It is also something of a curiosity that De Toth ought to have relocated House of Wax to that never-never-land of Victorian New York – actually looking very much like Edwardian England; its capricious assortment of flickering gaslights, elegantly attired men in top hats and opera cloaks, women, corseted with lavish bonnets and bustles, set against a misty backdrop of wrought iron and shutter-clad streets.  The setting for the original movie was actually contemporary Manhattan, circa 1933. Stanley Fleisher’s art direction occasionally falters here; as in the romantic moment between Matthew and Cathy – presumably at an outdoor beer garden that never goes beyond the remedial trappings of an obvious indoor set; sterile, artificial and looking as though it was cobbled together moments before the actual shooting of the scene began. Perhaps the biggest problem with Fleisher’s sets is they look more fake and uninviting than anything outside of Jarrod’s wax museum. And then, of course, there is the stereoscopic theatrics to either admire or lament; the hurling of chairs and other objects at the screen during the fight between Jarrod and Matthew; the can-can girls, kicking their feet into the crowd, the toppling of Matthew’s cadaver into the camera (and thus, out onto the audience), the museum’s street barker (Reggie Rymal) and his incredible ping-pong paddle and balls attached to strings, directly addressing the movie audience with an interminable threat to strike someone in the head with his ricocheting balls. It all works very well indeed, but only as a wild display of nonsensical dumb show to show off 3D to its best advantage.  Gimmick in place of story, and style (such as it remains) eclipsing substance; House of Wax takes its place as the archetypal amusement park ‘dark ride’. It’s fun in the moment, though utterly forgettable once the houselights have come up.

Warner Home Video is reissuing House of Wax in its native 3D. Be forewarned – this is the identical offering first made available back in 2014, repackaged with vintage artwork and peddled via the Warner Archive (WAC). It seems an odd choice for inclusion into the archive; first, because the original Blu-ray release, with its lenticular artwork, is still readily available, and second, because WAC has since given us an exceptional restoration of the original Mysteries of the Wax Museum on an independently produced Blu-ray disc. Please note: that ‘restored’ edition of the earlier movie does not appear on this disc; rather, the same, badly faded and blurry edition that was included on the early release of House of Wax, is back here again. I would have sincerely preferred WAC remaster House of Wax here with a higher bit rate dedicated only to it, and minus the 1933 original, as a better version of it now exists and is the preferred version to collect. There are problems with House of Wax on Blu-ray. For although the utmost care has been given in remastering the 3D version, for those fortunate enough to possess the appropriate equipment on which to view it, the ‘flat’ version of the movie suffers from a slightly out of focus characteristic, further marred by heavier than usual grain, and occasionally ruddy/muddy colors that do much to distract from our enjoyment.  It should be noted, House of Wax was photographed in rather inferior WarnerColor. Hence, it can never look as good as a vintage Technicolor feature with razor-sharp detail and lurid colors. It does, however, manage to give a faithful representation of the ‘opening night’ thrills one might have expected from the original theatrical engagement. Warner has done a fine job tempering age-related artifacts too.

The newly mastered DTS-HD 2.0 mono is adequate. House of Wax was originally presented with 4-track magnetic stereo played off an independent spool of magnetic tape synced to the visuals. This was an entirely new form of presentation, dubbed Warner-phonic and, quite different from what would eventually become 6-track stereo. The stereophonic version of House of Wax was screened only in limited engagements, as many theaters were not equipped for it. So, a mono mix was also created to give the movie wider distribution. Regrettably, only this mono has survived. As ludicrous as it may seem by today’s standards, it was not uncommon in the cost-cutting 1950’s for studios to keep only the bare essentials for archival purposes, while erasing and reusing stereo elements for other pending features. I suppose we could criticize the dream merchants for their shortsightedness here. But too, we must remember that no one in the industry then could have fathomed the re-sale value of the movies to future generations, or, conceive of a time when movies would be considered more than disposable first-run entertainment to be endlessly revived on television. Certainly, none could have envisioned the creation of ‘home video’ or the public’s insatiable desire for nostalgia. When Warner released its DVD of House of Wax back in 2000 it featured a re-channeled stereo 4.0 track. Apparently, for this Blu-ray, Warner thought it best to stick with preservation elements from the mono mix rather than this faux stereo which, after all, was not indigenous to the original presentation.

Warner Home Video has decided to augment this Blu-ray with other goodies worth the price of admission, beginning with a very informative audio commentary from David Del Valle and Constantine Nasr. We also get House of Wax: Unlike Anything You've Seen Before an excellent documentary in HD that chronicles the making of the movie and its lasting impact. It also features vintage snippets of Vincent Price. The rest of the extras are direct imports from the old Warner DVD, including the garish 2-min. vintage junket, Round-the-Clock Premiere: Coast Hails House of Wax as well as Michael Curtiz’s Mystery of the Wax Museum (1933) starring Lionel Atwill and Fay Wray. Regrettably, Warner has seen no validity in remastering the original movie in 1080p. Instead, it’s 480i and predictably lacking in clarity and color fidelity.  Badly done! Just slapping out old footage in whatever condition, merely to advertise it as a ‘bonus content’, doesn’t cut it anymore – period! Not that it ever should have been considered ‘the norm’ in the first place. Finally, we get House of Wax’s trailer, showing no scenes from the movie, but a series of painted title cards, trumpeting the new technological wonder of 3D.  Bottom line: recommended for those who love this movie.

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

3

VIDEO/AUDIO

3.5

EXTRAS

3