Porky's Movie Mystery

With Frankenstein, in 1931, an instant icon was created. The film’s extraordinary Monster was quickly adopted by animation studios as imminently caricaturable, his impossible flat head, neck bolts, dead man’s stare and morbid mobility used as shorthand for all that is otherworldly and menacing.

By the time Porky’s Movie Mystery was released in March 1939, the writers and artists at Leon Schlesinger’s studio, producing animated shorts for Warner Brothers, had already featured The Monster as a Karloffian menace in Porky’s Road Race (1937) and as an improbable Hollywood star in Have You Got Any Castles? (1938). He would appear again, as a frightening robot, in Sniffles and the Bookworm, in December ‘39. In Porky’s Movie Mystery, interestingly, The Monster plays against type.

As the cartoon opens, a newspaper headline announces that movie villains (curiously misspelled on screen) are being quizzed over mysterious goings-on in Hollywood. A chained Frankenstein Monster is grilled by a tough-talking cop. Despite his sporting a row of pointy teeth and enormous, hairy and clawed hands, this Monster is terrified, gnawing his fingernails by running them through his mouth like a typewriter carriage, complete with the sound of a return bell. I wonder how the joke plays today. How old do you have to be to remember typewriters, or to have ever heard a typewriter bell?

The sequence is quickly over, the policeman barking, “Come clean, you blankity-blank monster! Are you The Phantom?” The Phantom in question is glimpsed as a cackling, cloaked figure who, according to a radio bulletin by “Walter Windshield” is “haunting studios in Hollywood, panicking actors, ruining pictures and creating havoc in the film capital!”

Borrowing again from Universal pictures, the mysterious figure is soon revealed to be… The Invisible Man! “They starred me in one picture,” he complains. “Then dropped me!”

Expert help is needed, and the police call on “Mr. Motto” — Porky Pig in Oriental guise — this time lampooning the detective character, Mr. Moto, played by Peter Lorre at 20th Century Fox. Confronting The Phantom, Porky is pinned to a wall and, just as he is about to be hacked with an axe, he pulls out and consults his Ju-Jitsu manual. In the ensuing fight, The Phantom is knocked out, sprayed with “anti-invisible juice” and revealed to be… Well, you’ll have to watch it yourself and see if you can identify the character. The problem with topical humor is that it rarely outlives its specific time frame.

Porky’s Movie Mystery is pretty pedestrian, nowhere near as imaginative and explosively funny as so many of the other Warner cartoons that came out of the run-down bungalow known as Termite Terrace. There’s only one really ingenious gag, a nice visual achieved when the Invisible Man hides by standing in front of movie poster, dressing a swimsuit beauty with the hat, gloves and shoes that he is wearing. Otherwise, the script by Robert Gee is thin on jokes and the action is unmemorable.

Head animator John Carey would move on to comic books, where he made his name drawing Warner, Disney and Hanna-Barbera characters. Producer Robert “Bob” Clampett, who originally designed the Porky Pig character, enjoyed an illustrious if sometimes controversial career in animation, supervising some of Warner’s most crazily inspired cartoons through the Forties and eventually creating Beanie and Cecil for early television in both puppet and animated versions.

Porky’s Movie Mystery may have drawn a few chuckles when it was new, but it hasn’t held up very well. Its last, enduring distinction is a cool cameo by the Frankenstein Monster.

Watch Porky’s Movie Mystery on YouTube.

Related:
Frankenstein’s Hollywood Capers
Frankenstein Meets Mickey Mouse
Frankensteinian: The Snow Man

Hulkenstein

Stan Lee acknowledged the influence of Frankenstein movies on the creation of his green behemoth monster-hero, The Hulk. The reference would be committed to film when the character was translated to live-action television.

In a recent Halloween-time series of posts on the fun, eclectic Baking With Medusa, blogger Micha Michelle explored the connections between the classic Universal Frankensteins and the Bixby/Ferrigno Hulk, complete with scene comparisons.

In the pilot episode, The Incredible Hulk, broadcast on November 7, 1977, the newly minted mint-green monster goes wandering about and comes upon a little girl by a lake, like Karloff’s Monster did in the original 1931 film. The outcome is, thankfully, different: This monster doesn’t drown the child but rather saves her after she falls into the water, but the reference is perfectly clear. Writer, director and series producer Kenneth Johnson has an obvious love for the original material. He has a long list of genre credits, mostly TV, that include The Six Million Dollar Man, The Bionic Woman, V – The Original Series, Alien Nation and An Evening with Edgar Allan Poe starring Vincent Price.

By the way, the mountains on the far shore look tantalizingly familiar. It would be fun to know if the scene was shot at Malibou Lake!

The second episode, A Death in the Family, famous for its scene of The Hulk wrestling a grizzly bear, also has a Frankenstein moment, this one recalling The Monster’s brief friendship with the blind hermit in The Bride of Frankenstein (1935). The Hulk is given bread and a drink by an old man living in the woods. The scene ends in flames, like the original, but this time the conflagration is provoked by the Hulk spitting cheap booze into the campfire.

The most elaborate Frankenstein connections would roll out in a Season 4 two-parter, The First, written by Andrew Schneider and directed by Frank Orsatti, broadcast on March 6 and 13, in 1981. A fan favorite, the whole episode pays homage to Classic Universal monster movies.

Having heard of another scientist who once transformed into a Hulk-like creature, Bruce Banner goes looking for a cure in a place called Vissaria, like Lon Chaney’s Wolf Man went looking for Dr. Frankenstein in Vasaria in Frankenstein Meets the Wolf Man. There’s a scientist named Clive and an Igor equivalent named Frye. There’s a lady named Elizabeth, and a lawman evoking the Lionel Atwill character in Son of Frankenstein. The show even has angry, torch-bearing villagers.

Direct visual quotes are mostly from The Bride of Frankenstein. There’s a sequence with Bixby operating mad-lab machinery. Levers are pulled, with attendant rooftop effects. In the end, The Hulk battles his Evil Hulk counterpart, played by Dick Durock, who would go on to play The Swamp Thing.

Head over to Baking with Medusa for more details and lots more photo comparisons. With thanks to Micha Michelle, who did a wonderful job tracking down these references.

Hulkenstein on Baking with Medusa:
Part 1, the lake scene.
Part 2, the hermit.
Part 3, Evil Hulk.

The Art of Frankenstein : Adam Chiet

Standing three feet tall, this Frankenstein Monster is stitched together with fur, suede, mohair, gauze, simulated leather and copper wire. His eyes and exposed brain glow in the dark.

Created by Boston-based designer and sculptor Adam Chiet, each figure in this strictly limited edition is meticulously hand-built, detailed and painted to order. The Frankenstein Monster is the first in a proposed “signature series” of custom monster art figures.

Adam, who has been making figures and display art dolls with a horror/fantasy theme for over ten years, also produces one-of-a-kind figures on commission. Check out his gallery which includes classic movie monsters the likes of Dracula, the Mummy, assorted Wolfmen, Mr. Hyde, and a couple of Universal-era Frankensteins.

Adam Chiet’s Frankenstein

The Art of Frankenstein : Alicechan

The Bride still works her magic, inspiring new portraits, such as this sweeping, romantic interpretation by Alicechan, posted in her deviantArt gallery.

Found on Bunnysuit, via Trixie Treats.

The Halloween That Almost Wasn't

The Halloween That Almost Wasn’t first aired as an ABC-TV special in October 1979. Kid-friendly and stacked with popular TV stars, the 30-minute comedy special would go on to seemingly perpetual reruns on the Disney Channel through the late nineties.

Though freighted with clichés and mercilessly stuck in time with its Disco references, it’s a good-natured romp with over-the-top performances by its principals. Judd Hirsch, famous for his part in the hit sitcom Taxi, wildly hams up his Dracula as a Borscht-belt Bela, and Mariette Hartley, a TV regular who won an Emmy playing the woman who married The Hulk, is terrific as a headstrong Witch. Henry Gibson, of Laugh-In fame, plays a fright-wigged Igor.

The story travels familiar terrain. Hartley’s Witch, feeling unappreciated, won’t fly over the Moon, effectively canceling Halloween. A desperate Dracula calls all the great monsters to his castle for a meeting. That’s the plot on which writer Coleman Jacoby, a veteran of the Milton Berle and Phil Silvers shows, would hang a bunch of jokes.

The assembled monsters include a sleepwalking Zombie, a nondescript stumbling Mummy, veteran actor Jack Riley as a Cowardly Lion-like Werewolf and, the brightest spot in the collection, John Schuck in fine makeup as a classic Frankenstein Monster. Borrowing a joke from Arsenic and Old Lace in which the Jonathan Brewster character was given Boris Karloff’s scarred face after the drunken plastic surgeon had seen “that movie”, Schuck’s Frankenstein has taken to tap dancing after seeing “that movie”, a reference to Young Frankenstein, made just five years earlier.

Dracula and his gang are constantly foiled by the Witch who uses her powers to teleport out of harm’s way and make The Three Musketeers pop out of a painting to defend her. There’s physical action, monster pile-ups, and even a speeded-up sequence in a corridor where characters go in one door and out the other, a comedy device that was already old by 1925. Nevertheless, the unabashed silliness and the sheer energy of the players keep things hopping.

There’s a distinctive look to the show, due to its being shot on location at Lyndhurst, a spectacular Gothic Revival mansion on the Hudson at Tarrytown, New York. Its narrow hallways, arched windows, vaulted ceilings and corkscrew staircases serve alternately as Dracula’s castle and the Witch’s lair.

In the end, the recalcitrant Witch is convinced to fly her broom and kickstart the Halloween celebrations by tear-jerking, trick or treating kids who profess their love for her and all things deliciously spooky. The credits roll as Hirsch and Hartley channel Saturday Night Fever on a Disco danse floor.

The Halloween That Almost Wasn’t earned four Prime Time Emmy nominations, singling out Mariette Hartley’s enthusiastic performance, producers Richard Bartley and Gaby Monet and editor Arthur Ginsberg, with an award going to Makeup man Bob O’Bradovitch for Outstanding Individual Achievement in a Children’s Program. O’Bradovich’s credits include The Werewolf of Washington (1973), Blood Sucking Freaks (1976), and doing Boris Karloff’s makeup for a 1962 TV adaptation of Arsenic and Old Lace.

The Halloween That Almost Wasn’t was a TV staple for nearly twenty years. It was committed to VHS in 1992 under the title The Night Dracula Saved the World. Today, it survives on YouTube.

In 1988, John Schuck would gamely climb into the Frankenstein boots again, succeeding Fred Gwynne as Herman in a re-thread series, The Munsters Today, that managed to run 72 episodes, two more than the original.

The Halloween That Almost Wasn’t on YouTube: Part One, Part Two, Part Three.

Lyndhurst Mansion

Rue Morgue's Halloween Party

Boris and his prom date make a charming couple, all dressed up and inviting you to attend Rue Morgue’s 12th Annual Halloween Party tonight, in Toronto.

Great graphics, as usual, from Rue Morgue. It’s not only a fabulous horror magazine, Art Director Gary Pullin makes it one of the best looking magazines of any genre on the newsstands.

Halloween Party info

Rue Morgue Magazine website

Halloween 2009 Round Up

Time, alas, is running out on this year’s big Countdown to Halloween. Click the link to discover a cornucopia of blogs, many of which, I guarantee, you’ll want to bookmark and continue following. Congratulations and thanks to John Rozum who, with a generous assist by Shawn of Branded in the 80s, has pulled off a truly spectacular blogging event!

This year, I really enjoyed the photographer blogs, notably All Eyes and Ears —which is outstanding year-round, not just at pumpkin season. Visit and you’ll see beautiful cemetery gates and tombstones, creepy statues and eerie topiary, and The Tomb of Frankenstein, no less, decorated with a baby pumpkin.

I also loved Warren Harold's THAT… was my foot. His Halloween-themed photo series was both haunting and humorous, which is the whole idea of Halloween, isn’t it.

Frankenstein is always popular at Halloween, natch, and numerous blogs carried Frankenstein film reviews, film stills, and Frankenstein merchandising. I love the Frankenstein image — at the top of this post — from a General Telephone ad of 1970, found on The Gallows. And then there’s this giant-size Frankenstein toy from Imperial, courtesy of Geek Orthodox.

Boris Karloff was also in evidence in many Halloween posts throughout the Countdown. Consider the outstanding caricature by Scott Brothers reproduced here.

And, speaking of Karloff, there’s the Boris Karloff Blogathon, coming this November 23, right here on Frankensteinia! Reaction to my announcement has been flat-out flabbergasting. Check the list of scheduled participants on the sidebar, currently standing at 68 blogs, and still growing!

Film critics, pop culture bloggers, horror experts and Karloff fans will review films and discuss Karloff’s life, career and his ongoing influence. There are artists who will be creating original pieces, illustration and 3-D art, especially for the Blogathon. We’ll even have foreign language bloggers participating, with contributions in Spanish, Portuguese, French and German!

I am amazed and grateful for the interest shown already, and I can hardly wait for the great Boris Karloff Blogathon!

Meanwhile, have a spooky weekend. Happy Halloween!

Happy Birthday, Elsa Lanchester

The Bride of Frankenstein was a redhead.

Elsa Lanchester was born in London on this day, October 28, in 1902. As a child, she studied dance with Isadora Duncan and by the time she turned 20, she was active in cabaret and avant-garde theater. She appeared in a handful of silent films, notably a trio of shorts written for her by H.G.Wells. She married actor Charles Laughton in 1929, their parallel careers crossing now and then, notably in a 1936 stage production where Lanchester was Peter Pan to Laughton’s Captain Hook.

Relocated to Hollywood, Lanchester was celebrated as a character actress able to handle any type of part, and she was twice nominated for an Oscar. Some of her best-remembered performances include the Golden Globe-winning part of Miss Plimsoll in Witness for the Prosecution (1957), a comic witch in Bell, Book and Candle (1958) and a Nanny in Mary Poppins (1964). Lanchester appeared extensively on television in comedy, drama and variety programs, and she pursued a singing career, recording bawdy British music-halls songs and even performing a duet with Elvis Presley in Easy Come, Easy Go (1967). Her career extended well into her seventies. She passed away in 1986.

Elsa Lanchester’s most famous role, of course, was her brief but spectacular turn as The Bride of Frankenstein in 1935. Though she is on screen, all told, for barely 12 minutes, The Bride’s appearance is indelible. Late in life, Lanchester would joke, “Can you imagine an actress being overexposed by a picture she made 40 years ago?” She was a good sport about it, even revealing in a 1975 interview that she would have gladly returned to the part had there been a sequel.

Makeup man Jack Pierce constructed Lanchester’s Nefertiti hairdo by combing the actress’ own hair over a light wire cage. Witness Lanchester’s blazing hair color in a detail from a 1925 portrait by her friend Doris Clare Zinkiesen, a costume designer who, by the way, was engaged for some time to director James Whale. Lanchester’s flamboyant hair is also on display on one of her album covers.

There are no color photos from the Bride set to prove it, but it does seems like Karloff’s Monster fell for a redhead.

The Zinkeisen painting of Elsa Lanchester at the National Portrait Gallery.

Related:
The Short, Apocalyptic Life of The Bride of Frankenstein
The Bride Speaks
The Bride Foreseen
Posts tagged “The Bride of Frankenstein”