THE GHOST BREAKERS: Blu-ray (Paramount, 1940) Kino Lorber

 If anything, the teaming of Bob Hope and Paulette Goddard in 1939’s The Cat and the Canary unequivocally proved Hope was a rising star in the pantheon of great comedians. That the prospect should even have been debated – given Hope’s tenures in Vaudeville, and, on the radio – seems absurd. But there had been several circuit-based punsters from both venues to have tried and failed to translate their live art to a canned media. Hope, however, effortlessly assailed these ramparts and pitfalls to become a bona fide movie star. If, at least in the eyes of AMPAS, he remained nothing more than a noteworthy footnote in the cinema firmament, in the public’s estimation he could do absolutely no wrong. And thus, the longevity of Hope’s movie career – even when appearing in films of dubious distinction – was galvanized. At the same time, Paulette Goddard found it something of a challenge to go beyond her reputation as Charlie Chaplin’s ‘other half’. The marriage, begun in 1936, was already on the rocks by 1940, but would endure 2 more years. And Goddard, initially billed as the ingenue in Chaplin’s Modern Times (1936) and The Great Dictator (1940), had established herself as something of a sex kitten in 1939’s The Women too. So, appearing in The Cat and the Canary was not only an extension of Goddard’s desire to expand her repertoire, but also a shrewd business move carrying her career over the threshold of Chaplin’s influence.

If The Cat and the Canary established Hope and Goddard as an on-screen couple, then director, George Marshall’s The Ghost Breakers (1940) positively cemented this romantic appeal in a caper superior to their previous effort in virtually every way. The picture is based on Paul Dickey and Charles W. Goddard’s (no relation to Paulette) 1909 play – The Ghost Breaker – made into a picture twice during the silent era, first in 1914 by no less an impresario than Cecil B. DeMille; then again, in 1922 by Alfred E. Green. Presumably, neither version has survived the ravages of time. And, if screenwriter, Walter DeLeon had the play’s longevity on his side, he also proved the ‘third time’ out for this creaky little chestnut was also its charm.  Once again, thanks to Hans Dreier and Robert Usher’s production design, The Ghost Breakers emerged as a thoroughly eerie ‘spook show’ with Hope, and costar, Willie Best occasionally lightening the mood with some shameless mugging for the camera.

Willie Best today is a sadly forgotten funnyman from Hollywood’s golden era; a Mississippi-native who came to Hollywood as a chauffeur for a vacationing couple, but went on to adorn more than a hundred movies throughout the 1930’s and 40’s, usually relegated as the dim-witted domestic. After the scandal from a drug arrest effectively ended his movie career, Best turned to TV to supplement his income, dying prematurely from cancer on Feb. 27, 1962 – age, 45. While regarded in high esteem from some of Hollywood’s heaviest hitters, the criticism frequently heaped upon the actor’s legacy by critics today is that he chronically played into the ‘white-centric’ stereotype of the simple-minded darky – thus, perpetuating a racist attitude, since to negatively color his performances.  There is, to be sure, some truth to this, and yet, some devastatingly calculated charm to his work as well; Best, applying his formidable skills to create a ‘persona’ – of the perpetually befuddled and bug-eyed commentator, often more aware of the underlying ramifications of the actions of the hero, long before they come about on the screen.

The Ghost Breakers opens with an impossibly wicked electrical storm in Manhattan. In her fashionable high-rise apartment, Mary Carter (Paulette Goddard) is preparing to depart for her recently inherited castle on a remote island near Cuba. She is politely encouraged to reconsider her journey abroad by Mr. Parada (Paul Lukas), a suave, yet dimly menacing Cuban solicitor. Parada forewarns the estate is not only in a terrible state of disrepair – thus rendering it uninhabitable and of no interest – but also haunted by evil spirits. At the same time, Mary is listening to a radio broadcast by crime reporter, Lawrence Lawrence (Bob Hope). Lawrence – Larry, to both his friends and enemies – has just dropped a bombshell that incurs the displeasure of gangster, Frenchy Duval (Paul Fix), who decides to ‘give it straight’ to Larry once and for all. The plot thickens as Mary, intrigued rather than dissuaded by Parada, impulsively decides to sail for Cuba immediately. Near the end of Parada's visit, Mary also receives an ominous call from Ramon Mederos (Anthony Quinn), who is even more cryptic about resisting Parada’s interests in the estate. Reluctantly, Mary agrees to meet Mederos. Meanwhile, Larry arrives at the same apartment building, toting a gun for protection in his own meeting with Frenchy. Mederos also turns up, confronts Parada and is shot dead by him. Panicked, as his own gun has misfired, Larry believes he has accidentally killed one of Frenchy’s henchmen.

Fearing reprisals from the investigating police, Larry takes refuge in Mary’s suite. And although they have just met – at the point of a gun, no less – Mary is empathetic to Larry’s plight. As the police close in on their investigation, Mary attempts to conceal Larry. But even she cannot believe he would hide himself in her steamer trunk, taken to the docks right under the noses of the investigating officers. Eventually realizing what has become of Larry, Mary informs his valet, Alex (Willie Best). Alas, Alex is too late to prevent the trunk from being loaded onto the ship, instead, making his way aboard too and eventually freeing Larry in Mary’s stateroom. Larry learns from Alex the bullet that killed Mederos was fired from another gun, thus clearing him of all charges in the murder. Nevertheless, Larry elects to remain with Mary, acting as her bodyguard – also, to put as much distance between him and Frenchy Duval as possible. Seemingly unplanned, Mary runs into an old acquaintance, Geoff Montgomery (Richard Carlson), a bookish academic who regales her and Larry with the local superstitions - voodoo, ghosts and zombies. After a brief respite in Havana, Mary, Larry and Alex take a speed boat to the foreboding castle on an adjacent island. En route they encounter a pair of zombies – a sort of gypsy-esque matriarch (Virginia Brissac) and her catatonic oaf of a son (Noble Johnson). Upon their arrival to the castle, Mary finds the moodily disheveled and cobweb-ridden main hall dominated by an ancestral portrait bearing a striking resemblance to herself.

Not long thereafter, Larry and Mary are haunted by an apparition; also, the reemergence of the zombie who gives every indication he means them harm. Mary dresses in vintage garb, mimicking the portrait and momentarily to stave off the danger by convincing the zombie she has been reincarnated. Meanwhile, Mederos’ twin, Francisco arrives, presumably to avenge his brother’s killer. From here, the plot of The Ghost Breakers begins to fall apart as director, George Marshall desperately tries to tie up all the loose ends, beginning with the real reason everyone is so interested in scaring Mary off the estate. Mary and Larry are separated from Alex as they search for clues within the cavernous halls. They encounter Parada, stabbed and dying in the family crypt. Parada tries to explain the castle is situated atop a great fortune. But he is unable to reveal the identity of his killer. As Mary and Larry make their way to a hidden door down in the catacombs, they unearth the murderer for themselves; none other than Montgomery, who exposes to all that the castle is situated atop a lucrative silver mine. Montgomery holds the couple at gunpoint. However, at the most opportune moment, Alex releases a lever that causes a heavy weight to dislodge from the ceiling, sending Montgomery to his death. Mary and Larry breathe a sigh of relief and, at dawn’s first light, depart the island in bright spirits.  

The Ghost Breakers gets a lot of mileage from its spooky atmospherics, and the proverbial ‘fish out of water’ plot to place these common city folks in imminent peril on their sinister sojourn. Walter DeLeon’s screenplay is a deft mixture of quirky comedy and chipper chills – the plug-n’-play structure effectively masked by the winning repartee between Hope and Goddard, and the constantly – and occasionally confusing – involvement of the supporting cast, who sift in and out of the central plot, turning up to effortlessly connect the dots for the audience just as things begin to jumble together. There are some good solid laughs here, supplied by Hope and Best. And Goddard, while remaining mostly ‘above it all’ is a winsome heroine. But Paul Lukas and Tony Quinn are rather wasted on this outing, while Richard Carlson is a fairly awkward ‘heavy’ – his forte in pictures, usually as the male ingenue. The fusion of farce and fear is palpably achieved, with nods again to Dreier and Usher; also, cinematographer, Charles Lang, who lights virtually every moment of this ‘whodunit’ with cleverly cast shadows that help ante up the danger. Time and progress have withered the joyfully obtuse badinage between Hope and Best – especially the ‘fried chicken’ jokes – but otherwise, there remains much to admire here.

Were that we could claim the same regarding this Blu-ray transfer. The Ghost Breakers is soft – period. Kino Lorber’s hi-def release is cribbing from digital files that have not been given any consideration from its current rights holder, Universal Home Video in some time. A shame, because the image here is thick and grainy and occasionally suffers from poor contrast. As The Ghost Breakers is considered one of the ‘crown jewels’ in Bob Hope’s cinematic legacy, we would have hoped for something better here. Alas, no. While highly watchable, the quality here waffles in a sort of mid-range purgatory where fine details are frequently obfuscated by a cloudy patina that clots and confuses the foreground action with background detail, especially during the more darkly lit sequences. This could have – and should have – been better. For shame! The 1.0 DTS audio is adequate; though just. The only extras are a thorough and comprehensive audio commentary from historian, Lee Gambin, and a ‘Trailers from Hell’ featurette with Larry Karaszewski.  Bottom line: The Ghost Breakers is a fun – if disposable – comedy. The Blu-ray is barely average, and in today’s world of digital wizardry, well below par for the high standards of Blu-ray authoring. Judge and buy accordingly.

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

3.5

VIDEO/AUDIO

2.5

EXTRAS

1

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