Fred Niblo’s THE THREE MUSKETEERS (1921), Douglas Fairbanks, Eugene Pallette, George Siegmann, Adolphe Menjou.
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Fred Niblo’s THE THREE MUSKETEERS (1921), Douglas Fairbanks, Eugene Pallette, George Siegmann, Adolphe Menjou.
Have you seen The Red Mill (1927)?
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The Three Musketeers (1921). dir. Fred Niblo
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84. Merry-Go-Round (1923) - Dir. Erich von Stroheim/Rupert Julian
The Man Who Laughs | Paul Leni | 1928
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Halloween 2017 movie marathon: The Cat and the Canary (dir. Paul Leni, 1927)
“You must have been lonely these twenty years, Mammy Pleasant.”
“I don’t need the living ones.”
Driven to near-madness and physical decline by his greedy relatives, eccentric millionaire Cyrus West dies in his gothic mansion—however, he orders that his will not be read for another twenty years. Two decades come and go, and a quirky collection of West’s living relatives gather at the mansion to find out who gets the money. The lucky heir is the sweet-natured Annabelle West (Laura La Plante), but before she can claim her inheritance, she must be examined by a doctor who will certify whether or not she is sane. If so, she gets the money, family diamonds, and Cyrus’s creepy but big mansion. If not, she gets an extended stay at an asylum and the money goes to a mysterious runner-up heir, whose identity is sealed away in another envelope. Annabelle is decidedly the sanest of the lot of her bizarre relations, which include her nerdy and stammering cousin Paul (Creighton Hale), snobby and suspicious Aunt Susan (Flora Finch), (Forrest Stanley), the suave but mysterious Doctor (Arthur Edmund Carewe), and the chic but catty (Gertrude Astor), but as the night wears on, her nerves are subjected to unexplained disappearances, murders, and being stalked through the night by what could either be a ghost or an escaped madman from the local mental hospital. Whether the origins of these occurrences are supernatural or crime-related, it becomes clear someone wants to drive Annabelle insane and take her fortune, but who could it be?
Horror didn’t become a cinematic staple in the United States until the enormous success of Tod Browning’s Dracula in 1931; however, there were a few key Hollywood films during the silent era which paved the way for the terrors to come. The Phantom of the Opera is the most celebrated of them as it teems with suspense and gothic set design-- and that’s not mentioning Lon Chaney’s iconic monster make-up which left patrons screaming in the aisles. The Cat and the Canary is the second-most influential pre-Dracula American horror picture. While not as embedded in the popular culture as Phantom, it was one of the biggest hits of its day and remains a favorite of silent film aficionados. The cast sports a host of character actors familiar to lovers of 1910s and 1920s Hollywood cinema, and the visuals—oh Lord, the visuals are the true star, pure gothic expressionism mixed with innovative camerawork that should strike down the idea that all movies were “filmed stage plays” before Citizen Kane.
As you can likely see from the plot summary above, the storyline of The Cat and the Canary will likely appear familiar, even creaky, to contemporary viewers. It’s a classic old dark house mystery, with a bevy of strange characters trapped in a menacing setting, freaking out as things go bump in the night. This film and its 1922 stage play source material are often classified as dark comedy, as there is quite a bit of comic relief throughout due to how weird the characters are and how they react to the mayhem around them. However, the horror elements are strong enough to make this more than your standard drawing room murder-mystery: director Paul Leni and cinematographer Gilbert Warrenton create an uneasy atmosphere from the first scenes where we learn about the death of Cyrus West, how he was driven to his grave by his cruel, avarice-ridden relatives. In a symbolic sequence, we see Cyrus in his pajamas dwarfed by large, double-exposed images of cats baring their fangs and swiping at him with large, clawed paws. It sounds corny when I describe it, but the effect it has when you actually watch it is chilling and effective.
After this prologue, we’re treated to a first-person POV tracking shot through the gloomy corridors of the mansion, curtains flapping about in the wind as the camera glides about in the ghostliest manner before we arrive at the safe where the will lies hidden. As you watch this movie, the one motif which resonates throughout is the image of hands. Hands grasping at jewelry or throats, hands tentatively outstretched, hands breaking through locks and windows—even the paws of the giant, expressionistic cats are part of this visual thread. These images help establish the menace of the situation as well as emphasize the greed that motivates so many of these characters. It’s a little bit of a shame that the plot is so basic in comparison to the elaborate cinematography and expressionistic visual symbolism. It isn’t a bad story by any means and there are several suspenseful moments to be found, one just wishes for a bit more meat or a more interesting protagonist to follow.
Even if the visuals and atmosphere are what make the movie for the most part, The Cat and the Canary is nevertheless a fun and spooky romp, featuring good comic performances from its cast. Laura La Plante was Universal’s most popular female star throughout most of the 1920s, though she is mostly forgotten today; this film remains her most remembered role, if only because the image of the clawed hands grasping at her throat as she sleeps is so iconic. As Annabelle, she isn’t given too much to do other than be bewildered and frightened, though her cool blonde style gives her the feel of a Hitchcock heroine in some scenes. Her thin characterization likely stems from the fact that Annabelle is the de facto everywoman character, the one spot of normalcy among these eccentrics. Even so, one wishes she was allowed to be at least a little bit more unique—though it would be hard to compete with the other actors in this movie. If you’re a silent movie nerd like me, then this movie is a practical who’s-who when it comes to character actors. Creighton Hale, a heart-throb of the 1910s who played Prince Charming in the 1916 Snow White which inspired a fifteen-year-old Walt Disney, plays the nerdy love interest Paul. George Siegmann, most known for his villain parts, is a creepy asylum employee who hopes to get someone in a straightjacket before the night is up. Annabelle’s fashionable flapper cousin Cecily is played by Hal Roach regular Gertrude Astor. My choice for best performance goes to Martha Mattox as the dour housemaid, ironically called “Mammy Pleasant” by the other characters. The only inhabitant of the manor for the past twenty years, she is enamored by her late master and spends much of the time almost savoring the discomfort of the frightened guests. The characters are all broad types rather than fully fleshed out beings, but such an approach fits the material.
The Cat and the Canary was not only a big box office hit, but also a huge influence for later filmmakers, most famously James Whale. Whale’s 1932 horror-comedy The Old Dark House replicates the look of this movie down to the eerie image of curtains billowing in a shadowy hallway. Later on, even Jean Cocteau seems to have mined Leni’s film for visual inspiration in his moody 1946 adaptation of Beauty and the Beast. Just watch that scene where Belle levitates down a corridor with billowing curtains and tell me you don’t get flashbacks to The Cat and the Canary! However, it is Whale’s The Old Dark House to which this film is often compared. To watch the two of them back-to-back could be an interesting experience: the humor in Whale’s film is much quirkier, the inhabitants of the eponymous house far more sinister, and the guests possess more depth on the whole, from Charles Laughton’s bitter widower to Gloria Stuart’s vain yet disillusioned socialite. Still, without Leni’s film, that movie might not be the masterpiece of horror-comedy we know and love now. Whale took the lessons he learned from Leni and pushed them further into weird territory. Yet even so, the camera movements and overlapping imagery in this film are sophisticated, in their own way superior to the later movie. Dammit, both are great—let’s leave it at that!
While the general concept may be dated, The Cat and the Canary is still an impressive film. It’s a lot of fun and the granddaddy of horror-comedy classics to follow, from The Old Dark House to the Evil Dead films. If you wonder why people thought sound films were a fad in the late 1920s, then the dazzling cinematography of even genre pictures like this should give you a good idea as to why.