MAD LOVE: Blu-ray (MGM, 1935) Warner Archive

Hungarian-born, Peter Lorre cemented his international star power, with director, Karl Freund’s Mad Love (1935) – a movie so uncharacteristic of the froth and gloss associated with Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer, the studio producing it, and an attempt, at least, to give Universal Studios, Hollywood’s Transylvania, a real run for their money. Inspired by the grand guignol of Paris, Mad Love is a devastatingly bizarre and thoroughly perverted masterpiece with Lorre, in bald make-up and padded suit (resembling the stature of an overgrown penguin) as Dr. Gogol, a brilliant surgeon, corrupted by his obsessive love for actress, Yvonne Orlac (Frances Drake), already wed to brilliant pianist, Stephen (Colin Clive). Lorre, began his acting career in Vienna, then Berlin, gaining international renown as the child serial killer in Fritz Lang’s ‘M’ (1931) but fled Germany after Adolf Hitler’s rise to power. Accomplished in so many ways, Lorre, who already spoke English, then went to Britain, appearing to excellent effect as the menace in Alfred Hitchcock’s original version of The Man Who Knew Too Much (1934). Mad Love catches Lorre at the cusp of his American stardom as Hollywood’s resident ghoul – a stereotype he would gradually escape, playing the Japanese detective, Mr. Moto in Fox’s spate of highly popular B-serial whodunits. Immediately identifiable by either the sound of his creepily thin voice, or bulging and expressive eyes (to give Bette Davis a real run for her money), Lorre today is best remembered as the ill-fated Sr. Ugarte in Casablanca (1942) and the empathetic appendage to Paul Lukas’ Professor Aramac in Walt Disney’s lavishly appointed 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea (1954). Yet, given these later-day performances, to linger most potently in the memory, it is perhaps, at first, a shock to observe Lorre in Mad Love as the fiendish deviant lurking behind a mask of respectability.

Mad Love was perhaps the wrong sort of movie for MGM. Indeed, initial reaction to the picture, although striking a chord of praise for Lorre’s unadulterated wickedness, nevertheless fell to branding it as an artistic abomination and certainly, an experience far removed from any tangible ‘entertainment’ value. Initially, translator, Florence Crewe-Jones brought Maurice Renard's 1920 novel ‘Les Mains D'Orlac’ to the studio’s attention. From here, writer, Guy Endore, a collaborator of Karl Freund’s, set about adapting the work with ailing producer, John W. Considine Jr. assigning continuity and dialogue to P.J. Wolfson and John L. Balderston. Of the many cooks stirring this curdling broth, only Balderstone and Endore would eventually receive screen credit, with Balderston doing the bulk of the heavy lifting, polishing his final rewrite 3 weeks after the movie had already begun shooting. Freund wanted Gregg Toland as his cinematographer. And while he was eventually granted Toland’s participation for a measly 8 days of retakes, the bulk of Mad Love was photographed by Chester Lyons, instructed by Freund to ape Toland’s inimitable deep focus style.  Decades later, co-star, Frances Drake recalled unpleasantness on the set between Freund, Toland and Considine, to spill over into minor anxieties for the actors, never entirely sure of the story they were attempting to tell. MGM bandied about several working titles, including a literal translation of Renard’s original - The Hands of Orlac (released as this in the U.K.) and The Mad Doctor of Paris before finally settling on Mad Love. In truth, MGM’s raja and his second in command, V.P. Irving Thalberg, really did not want to make a ‘horror’ movie. After viewing Freund’s rough cut, Thalberg elected to remove 15 mins. of footage he found ‘offensive’ – including the amputation of hands from the newly departed serial killer, Rollo (Edward Brophy). Thalberg also added a disclaimer to precede the movie – verbatim, the warning at the start of Universal’s Frankenstein (1931), to forewarn of the nightmare yet to follow.  Thalberg also left Isabel Jewell's entire performance as Marianne on the cutting room floor.

Mad Love opens with the final performance of headliner, Yvonne Orlac at the Théâtre des Horreurs (a.k.a. Grand Guignol) in Paris, France. Preparing in her dressing room, Yvonne listens to a brilliant piano recital by her husband, Stephen Orlac via radio. On stage, Yvonne plays a victimized woman whose husband, suspecting her of infidelity, has her bound to a torture wheel. There is also the implication her vagina is being branded with a hot poker, a scene to cause female patrons in the audience to cringe, but male admirers, cruelly to burst into spontaneous applause. From his box seat, Dr. Gogol meditates upon this latter perversion with orgasmic ecstasy. Later, in Yvonne’s dressing room, he confides how much her work has meant to him. He has attended virtually every performance since the show begin. His admiration, however, curdles when Yvonne senses a brewing obsession. Gogol is aghast to learn she is giving up the theater to be with her husband in England. At a ‘going away’ party, Yvonne offers to swap a cordial kiss for a piece of the farewell cake, Gogol taking advantage, publicly assaults her with an impassioned kiss she finds repugnant. Afterward, Gogol, still obsessed with Yvonne, buys the wax figure of her to have adorned the lobby of the theater, now to build a shrine to it at his home, referring to it as Galatea (from the Greek), and paying daily homage as its Svengali.  Meanwhile, Stephen Orlac encounters Rollo, the Knife Thrower, in custody for murder, on a train bound from Fontainebleau to Paris. After the train derails, Stephen’s hands are mangled. Sometime thereafter, Gogol and American reporter, Reagan (Ted Healy) partake of Rollo’s execution.

Desperate to save her husband’s dignity, Yvonne begs Gogol to attend Stephen and save his hands. Instead, the surgeon performs a bizarre double hand transplant, using Rollo’s remains as a substitute. Forced to sell off much of their possessions to pay for the surgery, Stephen’s brief reprieve is moot when he soon discovers his new limbs will not allow him to continue his career. When creditors arrive to reclaim Stephen’s piano, he throws a fountain pen at their heads with all the precision of Rollo’s former craft. It now becomes apparent, despite their new master, Rollo’s hands have a ‘mind’ and will of their own. Stephen begs his stepfather, Henry (Ian Wolfe) for money. But Henry denies this request, still incensed Stephen did not follow in his line of business as a jeweler. Gogol pursues Yvonne. However, she spurns his desire. Meanwhile, Stephen demands from Gogol to know why his new hands are adept at knife throwing. Gogol feigns ignorance, then confides in his assistant, Dr. Wong (Keye Luke) the limbs belonged to Rollo. Now, Gogol launches into his most sinister plot yet, disguised with metal arms and an ominous leather/metal neck brace, presenting himself to Stephen as Rollo, reincarnated and claiming Stephen is in possession of his hands, since to have murdered Henry Orlac – thus, Stephen is to blame for the death. Stephen confides as much to Yvonne, determined to turn himself into the police for a murder he actually did not commit. Yvonne vows to confront Gogol, but upon entering his home, discovers the statue of her and realizes he is quite diseased in his obsessive desire to possess her. Gogol returns, still wearing the disguise he used to convince Stephen of his crime. Discovering Yvonne, who has dressed herself in the statue’s clothing, Gogol believes his Galatea has come to life and must be destroyed. Attempting strangulation, Yvonne is saved by Stephen who, arriving with the police, uses his new hands to thrust a knife into Gogol’s back.

Mad Love was considered so vile at the time, a ban was proposed in the U.K. In America, the picture received higher praise from both The Hollywood Reporter and Time magazine, chiefly for Lorre’s bone-chilling performance.  Alas, the rest of the critics utterly savaged the picture as either perverse, mean-spirited and ugly, or silly, saucy and salacious.  In the U.S., Mad Love barely grossed $170,000, with only an additional $194,000 coming from foreign distribution. However, Lorre’s reputation was the real winner here. No less an authority on the art and craft of acting than Charlie Chaplin declared Lorre the greatest screen actor of his generation. Attempting to mix high literature with rank scares proved a curious balancing act, never entirely achieved, as quoting Oscar Wilde’s ‘Ballad of Read Gaol’ – “…each man kills the thing he loves…” against scenes of implied sexual sadism and mutilation neither titillated nor tantalized the paying public to attend. The Hays Office, as yet a toothless buffalo to fully deny the picture distribution, nevertheless cautioned Mayer about scenes depicting the dead and dying immediately following the derailment of Orlac’s train. They also ensured trims were made to the scenes of torture, guillotining and strangulation. The real loser here was Karl Freund, whose career in Hollywood virtually dried up overnight. In 1937, Freund returned to Europe and rescued his only daughter from certain death in a Nazi concentration camp. Alas, his ex-wife refused to follow them back to the U.S. and was put to death in 1942. Freund would work again, though only on television, innovating a new lighting technique for shooting the sit-com, I Love Lucy. He died in 1969 – age, 79. Viewed today, Mad Love is hardly one of the worst movies ever made, a claim made by director, Peter Bogdanovich. And while I cannot entirely dismiss the off-putting results, the picture’s merits are as self-evident at a glance – the Lyons/Tolland cinematography, for one, and Peter Lorre’s monumentally disturbing central performance for the other. If for nothing else, Mad Love ought to long endure for these assets.

And, in the condition currently presented to us via the Warner Archive (WAC), Mad Love is, indeed, quite a mesmeric, if off-key experience to behold. Like most everything else WAC does, this is a quality affair, sporting an immaculate 1080p image, with superb contrast, and exceptional tonality in its grey scale. Fine details pop as they ought. We can see minute details in skin, hair and costuming. Wow! Very impressive for a movie almost 90-years old!!! Film grain has been accurately preserved and is properly placed. The image is refined, crisp and free of age-related debris and other artifacts. The 2.0 DTS mono audio exhibits some minor hiss, but no pop. What can I tell you? There is only so much to be done with vintage Westrex audio. This one sounds a tad worse for the wear than some from the same vintage. But dialogue is very clean and sound effects are well integrated. Apart from a theatrical trailer, there are NO extras. Bottom line: Mad Love will not be to everyone’s taste.  I dare say, it will not be appealing to most. But for those who can admire good, solid acting and exceptional production values, there is something to appreciate here.  Judge and buy accordingly.

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

2.5

VIDEO/AUDIO

5

EXTRAS

0