A Study in Classic Horror- THE MUMMY (1932)

I’ve only seen The Mummy once before, when I was still pretty young, and I remember being disappointed when I learned that the creature in bandages I’d seen on posters and merchandise all my life was only present in the film’s short prologue. Times change, and now I’m glad that Boris Karloff didn’t spend the entire film covered in heavy make-up. Karloff owns this movie. He delivers another great performance and it feels like all the rest of the cast can do is stay out of his way. Don’t get me wrong, The Mummy is a classic and deservedly so, but I think the weight of its enduring qualities rests firmly on Karloff’s shoulders. Whenever he wasn’t onscreen, I was eagerly waiting for him to return.

The rest of the cast really falls flat when compared with Karloff. Female lead Zita Johann, as Helen Grosvenor, doesn’t have much appeal in her role, and the rest of the cast really doesn’t offer much that is memorable. The only other performer to exhibit any energy is Bramwell Fletcher, and we only see him in the opening sequence.

What really struck me was how closely this movie parallels Dracula. I don’t know that it was intentional, but I wonder if the success of the Bela Lugosi outing two years earlier led the filmmakers to think they could make lightning strike again. (Which, of course, it did.) Like Dracula, Karloff’s Imhotep, in the guise of Ardath Bey, is an ancient immortal who uses his hypnotic powers to seduce a young woman to join him at his side for eternity , and both characters’ eyes glow eerily when they hold a victim in thrall. The director, Karl Freund, was cinematographer on Dracula, and the screenwriter, John L. Balderston, wrote the stage play that version of Dracula was based on. Strangest of all, Edward Van Sloan and David Manners, who played Van Helsing and John Harker respectively in Dracula, play virtually the same roles as Dr. Muller and Frank Whemple in The Mummy.

A couple of other observations: I really like how the flashback sequence resembles a silent movie; it reminds of how a modern color film might similarly use black and white footage. I was also curious about how limited the use of music was. Music from Tchaikovsky’s Swan Lake plays over the opening titles, and then we don’t hear any scoring until about midway through. I know many early sound films had no score whatsoever, but I also know that music was a part of film even in the silent era when most movie houses had live piano accompaniment for their features. I wonder exactly when it was that musical scoring became a staple for the movies.

Overall, I’ve probably given the impression I didn’t enjoy The Mummy, and that’s not true at all. I just think it’s a good example of how important casting can be. I’m seeing many of the films on my list for the first time, and others I’m seeing for the first time in years. I’ve idolized horror icons like Boris Karloff and Bela Lugosi all of my life, and in some ways it’s because many of their roles have become bigger than the films and the actors themselves. This is the third Karloff film I’ve watched since I began this project and I’m finally beginning to see what a genuinely talented actor he was. In three films I’ve seen three very different Karloffs. The Mummy certainly deserves its place among the Universal horror pantheon, and I believe it has Boris Karloff to thank for it.

This week’s supporting features:

The Merrie Melodies cartoon Bacall to Arms (1946)

The Our Gang short Bouncing Babies (1929)

Next week’s film:

Horror Island (1941) starring Dick Foran, Leo Carillo and Peggy Moran

A Study in Classic Horror – THE CAT AND THE CANARY (1927)

Once again, we return to early versions of clichés we’ve know for ages. Based on a popular stage play of the era, The Cat and the Canary is a comedic haunted house thriller based around the now-familiar motif: the reading of the rich relative’s will to his horde of greedy relatives. Other familiar elements include: secret passages, an escaped lunatic, a cut telephone line, a creepy claw that reaches out of walls, a body that tumbles out of a closet and one more cliché that I’ll discuss later. The only thing missing: the painting of the late Cyrus West is lacking a pair of eyeholes that allow an unseen spy to watch the proceeding of the room. Still, there are other haunted house movies to come, perhaps we’ll get to that one later. Clichés they may be, but as I stated in my entry on The Raven, there’s a lot of fun to be had in seeing them in some of their earliest realizations.

As is usually the case when you inherit a fortune from someone who owns a spooky house, you must spend the night in said house. In this instance, however, that is not a stipulation of the will, this time Annabelle, the chosen recipient of the fortune, and the other relatives must stay the night because of the danger of the aforementioned escaped lunatic. As the reluctant inhabitants of the house begin to disappear and strange occurrences seem to center only around Annabelle when she’s alone, her sanity begins to come into question, and by the conditions of the will, she must be certified sane by a physician or the money will pass to another specified heir

I’M GOING TO DISCUSS A REVEALING PLOT POINT HERE, SO YOU MAY WANT TO SKIP THIS PARAGRAPH IF YOU HAVEN’T SEEN THE FILM. As you may have guessed, every thing is eventually explained as the machinations of the heir who the fortune will fall to if Annabelle is declared insane, and that’s the final cliché I want to discuss: what I’ve come to call the Scooby-Doo villain. Anyone who’s watched cartoons since the late sixties is familiar with the idea of the miscreant who dresses up as a monster as a means to achieve his goal, usually preying on local superstitions or, as in this case, trying to drive someone mad. It’s amusing to see this idea dates back long before such villains could be foiled by a gang of teenagers and their dog. There’s even a very Scooby-esque unmasking of the culprit. I wonder if there have been many real-life criminals who have used this technique.

The film has a great cast that includes the lovely Laura LaPlante and Gertrude Astor, Creighton Hale as the nebbish hero, Flora Finch as a doddering aunt who bears an uncanny resemblance to Jean Stapleton, and Martha Mattox as a creepy maid called Mammy Pleasant who could give lessons to Rebecca’s Mrs. Danvers. But the real star is the director: Paul Leni. This was my introduction to Leni, a German expressionist who made his American debut with this film. Though it’s often very funny, Leni never lets go of the thriller aspects of the film with its dark moving shadows, slow tracking shots down darkly lit halls and long curtains that blow eerily in the wind. He also makes some dramatic use of superimposed shots. The film opens with a shot of the huge and imposing mansion with a distraught Cyrus West superimposed over it. As we are told of his greedy relatives waiting for him to die, the mansion is replaced by empty medicine bottles and menacing cats pawing at poor Cyrus. Later a scary skull looms over a character’s head when he blanches at the word “death”. Leni even extends his touch to the dialogue cards as the words become large and animated when a character is frightened. This also may be the earliest example I’ve seen of stylized credits: the first visual in the film is that of a gloved hand reaching past cobwebs to wipe away a thick layer of dust to reveal the film’s title.

It makes me look forward to Leni’s other film on my list, The Man Who Laughs. It’s sad that he died in 1929 at the age of 44. I would love to have seen what he might have done with sound and color.

This week’s supporting features:

Bugs Bunny and Witch Hazel in Bewitched Bunny (1954)

The Our Gang short Boxing Gloves (1929), the first short in the series to feature Jackie Cooper, who passed away earlier this month.

I’m not sure when I’ll get to the next film. Probably May 27^th at the latest, so I’ll leave the schedule open for the next couple of weeks. The film in question will be:

The Mummy (1932) starring Boris Karloff and Zita Johann

A Study in Classic Horror - NIGHT KEY (1937)

What I create, I can destroy.

It sounds a bit ominous, doesn't it? As if poor David Mallory has finally been pushed over the edge, but Boris Karloff is actually playing the hero for a change.

Night Key is the first film I'm likely to be called out on in my study. No, it's definitely not a horror film and it just barely qualifies as science fiction. When I scanned the index of Michael Mallory's book on Universal horror I found that it's not even mentioned. In fact I guess it only made my list because of its inclusion in the Boris Karloff Collection DVD set, the cover of which promises "The Master of Horror in His Most Frightening Roles!" Still I'm glad it made the list because it's a film that any fan of Karloff and classic horror should take a look at if they'd like to see the range that Boris Karloff had.

An early take on the Little Man vs. Big Business motif, Night Key is the story of inventor David Mallory, who created a near flawless security system only to have the patent stolen from him by Steven Ranger, his former rival for his late wife. Twenty years later, Mallory invents a new system that will render the previous one obsolete, but Ranger connives with a crooked lawyer to lure Mallory into signing over the rights to the new system with no intention of actually implementing it. But Mallory has also invented a device that can disrupt the old system, and with the aid of a smalltime hood named Petty Louie, sets off on a gleeful spree of breaking and entering to demonstrate to Ranger just how valuable his ingenuity is to this business equation, always leaving his calling card: "What I create, I can destroy -Night Key".

I warmed to Karloff's Mallory the second I saw him. His first moment of screen time features him tinkering with his new invention with a look of pure joy on his face, as if he creates and perfects for the pleasure in it rather than out of greed. Yes, he'd like to make money off of his invention, after all he's slowly going blind and shares a tiny apartment with a daughter who's stuck in a dead-end job, but the good his invention will do is just as important to him. His moral lapse into breaking and entering is strictly to teach the greedy a lesson. He never steals from the burgled businesses. And when a local crime syndicate takes notice of his escapades and begins to use him for more nefarious purposes, he does his best to sound the alarm, even when that bring him and his daughter under threat.

Karloff is charming as Mallory. It really is refreshing to see him free of heavy prosthetics playing an outright likable, good humored yet still sympathetic character; a scientist, but not a mad one. At the time this was made, Universal was considering phasing out horror, Karloff was probably cast mainly out of contractual obligations, and despite my affection for the old fright flicks, I wonder what else we might have seen from Karloff had the genre not seen a resurgence at the studio. It's a pity we can never revisit Karloff's stage roles.

A rather good supporting cast: again the compulsory young lovers don't offer a lot to the story, but Jean Arthur as Mallory's daughter Joan and Warren Hull as a hotshot security employee do well with the material at hand. Samuel S. Hinds as Steven Ranger has a bit more dimension than he did in last week's outing The Raven. The group of thugs led by Alan Baxter as "The Kid", while well played, are a prime example of how screen criminals have changed over the years, it's hard to watch them and not think of Rocky and Mugsy of Looney Tunes fame. Last but not least, we have Hobart Cavanaugh as Petty Louie, the small time hood with the heart of gold, who delivers the second-most memorable performance in the film as its comic relief.

In defense of its inclusion here, you can certainly see attempts have been made to sell it as a horror film, and I guess those attempts resonate to this day, if the aforementioned box set can be used as an example. Take a look at these other promotional posters, both using pictures of Karloff from other films. The second one makes a blatantly erroneous promise of "Murder in a Wax Museum". Yet I'm grateful, for without those misleadings I might never have seen it; it may not be a horror film, but I highly recommend it to the classic horror aficionado.

Rounding out this week's bill:

Bugs Bunny and Yosemite Sam in 14 Carrot Rabbit (1952)

The Our Gang short Lazy Days (1929)

I'll be taking a break next week. Got a wedding to go to. Then it's a Friday the 13th weekend with:

Paul Leni's The Cat and the Canary (1927) starring Laura LaPlante, Creighton Hale and Forrest Stanley

A Study in Classic Horror - THE RAVEN (1935)

I enjoy seeing clichés before they became clichés. The Raven is a classic take on the Mad Doctor with a house full of secret rooms and elaborate torture devices, and to the modern viewer a lot of it may seem old hat, but personally I find it great fun to see early versions of what would go on to become classic motifs. We've got Edgar Allan Poe's swinging pendulum, a room where the walls close in and the actually rather unusual entire bedroom on an elevator platform. The film claims to be inspired by Poe's poem The Raven but the connection to that poem seems tenuous at best. The poem is quoted, (though I found it surprising that nary a "Nevermore" is heard) the sharpened descending pendulum is an obvious Poe reference and Bela Lugosi's Dr. Richard Vollin is a rather obsessed Poe aficionado, but truthfully the Poe references seem like an excuse to justify the film's title. I suppose there's a bit of Poe's characters in Dr. Vollin; it's easy to imagine him sealing an enemy behind a brick wall, but the film is far more a product of its own era than Poe's.

I've read that Lugosi was known for throwing himself wholeheartedly into his characters and Vollin is a prime example of that. Here's a man whose ego must be stroked before he saves a woman's life; he then develops an unhealthy obsession with her then attempts to destroy her and her loved ones when he can't have her. Though he may nibble at the scenery a bit, he's a delight to watch; Lugosi plays Vollin as charming one minute, maniacal the next and arrogant throughout. Boris Karloff may have received top billing, but Lugosi is clearly the star in this outing.

Which is not to take anything away from Karloff's performance. Karloff's Edmond Bateman is an understated counterpart to Lugosi's character. Almost a scaled down version of Frankenstein's monster, Bateman, despite his violent history is the character who evokes our sympathy providing the tragic element that is so often a part of the Universal canon. Even though he is made up to look as if half of his face is paralyzed for most of the film, this face, far less obscured that the Creature, gives us a more raw look at the emotions that made us feel for his brutal but sad character in the Frankenstein films.

A few words about the supporting cast: Jean and Jerry, the young lovers and Jean's father as played by Irene Ware, Lester Matthews and Samuel S. Hinds respectively are rather generic. But there's a third tier of characters played by Spencer Charters, Inez Courtney, Ian Wolfe and Maidel Turner who come in to provide some laughter to this black comedy as extra invitees to Dr. Vollin's party. (Presumably he wanted an audience for his grand guignol.) They provide a nice comedic touch and even one or two gags that might have worked just as easily in an Abbott and Costello film.

Rounding out this week's bill:

The Night Watchman, the 1938 Merrie Melodies cartoon and directorial debut of Chuck Jones

The Our Gang short Railroadin' (1929)

Next week's film:

Night Key starring Boris Karloff, Warren Hull, Jean Rogers and Alan Baxter

Goodbye, My Sarah Jane

I feel like I've stolen my title from at least a half dozen other sources, including my friend Kathleen, bu t to be honest I'd completely forgotten David Tennant's line from the "School Reunion" episo de that reintroduced Elisabeth Sladen's Sarah Jane Smith into the world of Doctor Who. Before that I just had the phrase "Goodbye, Sarah Jane" in my head which was leading my brain into futile attempts to rewrite a certain Elton John song (which really doesn't need a third rewrite). Couple that with the fact that I was saying to myself "I've lost my Sarah Jane" and I realized I had to let originality be damned. It doesn't matter if everyone else is using it as their lead line, it's the most appropriate line for my piece as well. After all, the very first Doctor Who story I ever saw was "The Hand of Fear" so if Tom Baker is My Doctor, then truly Sarah Jane is My Companion. Though I went on to enjoy the adventures of Leela and Romana, Sarah Jane, who was also a part of my introduction to Daleks and Cybermen, remained an important part of my fondness for the Doctor Who mythos.

I suppose the new series is a bit to blame for the tears that flowed yesterday, and I don't mean that poetically, I mean my tears. I'm sure I still would have been saddened to lose her, it's just that Doctor Who had sort of slid into a corner of my mind reserved for fond memories. I still had a bit of nostalgia for the TARDIS and Daleks and the like, but they belonged more to my past than my present. Then the new series started and as I developed a fondness for Christopher Eccleston's Doctor my enthusiasm for the world of Time Lords was not only reawakened, it reached levels it never had before.

Unlike now when we're actually getting to see new episodes on the very same day they're broadcast in the United Kingdom, when the show returned there was a sizable delay between their initial broadcast and their American debut. (No, I did not go the illegal download route.) My eagerness between episodes often led me to the internet, but spoilers often lie in wait on the internet. (We only get Eccleston for one series?) But sometimes those spoilers gave me something to anticipate as my enjoyment of the new show and my nostalgia for the old one began to collide. Daleks! Next week there's an episode with a Dalek! What? Next series there's an episode called "The Rise of the Cybermen"! But what's this? Before the Cybermen, something even bigger: Elisabeth Sladen returns as Sarah Jane Smith!

I think for many of the long term fans this was a major moment. Daleks, Cybermen and even our beloved TARDIS, when you get down to it, are merely props and costumes. (No disrespect to voice actor Nicholas Briggs or the operators.) But here was the flesh and blood return of possibly the most popular companion the Doctor ever had. A humbling experience for the show's star, yet long time fan David Tennant who said, "That was a particular thrill for me having grown up watching Elisabeth Sladen, to suddenly be in a read-through with her calling me the Doctor." As, then showrunner, Russel T. Davies put it "Sarah Jane was.. the biggest step in... saying this is the same program as the old series."

And it was a great episode. One of those stories where the monsters, while themselves engaging, take a back seat to the human drama. A story where in meeting a past companion, the current one gets a glimpse at her possible future. And if it had stopped there, I'm sure we, as fans would have been satisfied. Who would have thought in 2004 that not only would we shortly see the return of Elisabeth Sladen in a new episode of Doctor Who, but it would lead to her own successful series featuring the character we'd loved so much in the seventies.

I found myself very happy for Elisabeth Sladen. It's not easy for any actress to maintain a career as they get older and such triumphant comebacks are quite rare. Amidst the popularity of The Sarah Jane Adventures she returned for what would be her final major appearance on Doctor Who and I remember being thrilled for her as "The Stolen Earth" began and for the first time in her nearly forty year history with the show, her name was in the opening titles. And I was proud to see in the last reader's poll of Doctor Who Magazine that she still was being voted the Favorite Companion. My Companion. Still number one.

And all of this probably contributed to why I found myself crying yesterday afternoon. I received my first notice by cellphone on Twitter from Neil Gaiman. It seemed uncertain. Another from Doctor Who Magazine that seemed far too certain, but still I was in denial. This had to be wrong. But by the time I was seated at my computer and Googling her name it became undeniable. And it's only been five years. Five years seems like such a short time to bring this success story to an end. Five years since she was brought full front into our consciousness again and then she was snatched away with little or no warning. Of course for her that lack of warning was probably a blessing; she got to depart on her own terms without a surge of publicity surrounding her. I'm told they didn't even know she was ill on the set of her show.

I kind of got lost in cyberspace yesterday as I sat there watching the outpouring of love for this woman across sites like Twitter and Facebook. Among all the fans, the likes of Tom Baker, Colin Baker, Russell T. Davies, Steven Moffat, John Barrowman, David Tennant, Matt Smith, Noel Clarke, Nicola Bryant, Murray Gold and Stephen Fry weighed in with their own reactions. Friends' reactions began to trickle through. Then I was reminded of another Sarah Jane line: "You know, you act like such a lonely man, but look at you! You've got the biggest family on Earth!" Liz, I doubt you were lonely, but judging from what I saw yesterday, that's quite a family you've got there.

One last note to the writers and producers of Doctor Who, Torchwood and The Sarah Jane Adventures: I understand a handful of episodes were shot for a fifth series of The Sarah Jane Adventures. By all means, broadcast them, and let it end there. Don't write an episode or a line for any of the shows referring to the passing away of Sarah Jane Smith. Just let her go on having adventures with Luke, Clyde, Rani, Maria, Mr. Smith and K-9 even if we don't get to see them. Liz may be gone, but let Sarah Jane live on. Noel Clarke put it quite well yesterday on Twitter: "#SARAHJANESMITHLIVES because Elisabeth Sladen made her Great. -Liz, you were awesome and will be missed. (no more to be said tonight) NC".

Eleven Doctors. Only one Sarah Jane.

A Study in Classic Horror- THE WOLF MAN (1941)

(originally published on Saturday, April 16, 2011)

Most articles I've read on The Wolf Man begin with:

Even a man who is pure in heart,

And says his prayers by night

May become a wolf when the wolfbane blooms

And the autumn moon is bright.

And why not? It's a nice mood-setting piece quoted three times within about ten minutes early in the film, each time with derision, while we, the audience, know that it foreshadows darker events to come. But there's another line that's spoken three times (with some slight variations)by an old gypsy woman over the course of the film:

"The way you walked was thorny, through no fault of your own, but as the rain enters the soil, the river enters the sea, so tears run to a predestined end. Your suffering is over... my son. Now you will find peace."

The first quote encapsulates the plot of the film while the second embodies the heart. The film that screenwriter Curt Siodmak originally envisioned was more of a psychological thriller than a monster film and some of those elements seem to have survived. The truly moving scenes in the film are the ones of Lon Chaney Jr's Larry Talbot grappling desperately with the knowledge that he may somehow be responsible for the grisly murders that have coincided with his return to his hometown. Just as the gypsy suggests, the violence is inescapable and can only be ended by the film's tragic resolution.

The Wolf Man is not without its flaws. Why is this small English town populated by so many American accents? Why is Bela's werewolf a quadruped while Larry's is a biped? And just how the heck does Larry's hat stay on when that car is moving so fast? And the romance between Chaney and Evelyn Ankers seems a bit forced (possibly because they did not get along off screen), but that's forgivable; it helps move the plot in the direction it need to be in, and it's not quite as inexplicable as obligatory male / female pairings (a subject I'm sure to bring up again) in horror and sci-fi films that were to come. But like many of the old classics it endures in spite of those flaws. One characteristic I find charming of the old Universal horror canon, that some modern viewers might see as a flaw are the settings that don't really belong to any one time or place: towns that look like something out of Eastern Europe in the mid 19th Century, but might be visited by automobiles and the pretty young shopkeeper's daughter can don the latest Hollywood fashion. The Wolf Man is a prime example of this.

Worth noting are the fairy tale elements woven into this version of werewolf mythology: the idea that the werewolf would be marked with a pentagram and would also see the pentagram in the palms of its victims. (Maybe the solution is to learn to not look at people's hands.)

But it's also worth noting what's not in the film there are so many trappings we've naturally come to expect from our werewolf stories that we begin to assume that they'll be there. For a start there is absolutely no mention of the full moon, in fact the only line connecting moonlight with the transformation is from the poem mentioned above; what actually triggers it remains a mystery. Maybe not a requirement, but while I find the use of growling canine noises effective, a howl or two would be nice. But what surprises me the most is the iconic transformation scene designed by makeup artist Jack Pierce is not in the original film. It's usually the feet we're looking at that gradually become covered in hair and claws. There is one facial transformation, but it from wolf back to human in the film's tragic ending. The more famous transformation comes in Larry Talbot's next appearance in Frankenstein Meets the Wolf Man which we'll get to later.

There are a lot of good performances here, but I think my favorites are the gypsy mother and son played by Maria Ouspenskaya and Bela Lugosi. Bela gets very little screen time, but he makes every moment count. (but then I must confess I've always been a bit partial to Lugosi.)

And by the way, kudos to Lon Chaney Jr. on being the only man who could claim to have played his monster in all of his film appearances. Dracula and Frankenstein's monsters were taken on by many actors in the Universal films and even the Gill Man was played by at least two men in each film, but the Wolf Man was always Chaney.

A sidenote: since I've got so many dvds filled with classic cartoons and I recently bought the Little Rascals box set, I decided to give each screening the full on Saturday matinee treatment. (All I'm missing are coming attractions and a newsreel.) So, my viewing of The Wolf Man was accompanied by Speedy Gonzales in Tortilla Flaps (1958) and the Our Gang comedy Small Talk (1929).

Thank you for joining me, children of the night.

Next week's film is:

The Raven (1935) starring Bela Lugosi and Boris Karloff

A Study in Classic Horror - an Invitation

(originally published on Monday, February 28, 2011)

Last year I read Michael Mallory's book UNIVERSAL STUDIO MONSTERS: A LEGACY OF HORROR and I kind of got inspired. Already somewhat familiar with the major Universal monsters (Dracula, Frankenstein's Monster, the Wolf Man, etc.) I found I wanted to explore further the studio that more or less put horror movies on the map. So, I made a list of the films that most interested me from their synopses in the book and included the well-known classics and set about collecting them. Earlier this month, I completed the collection, so I'm preparing to begin. I thought I'd watch one film a week (unless life interferes), and keep a diary about them here in my notes. I thought it also might be fun to invite my friends to participate. I'll announce each film ahead of time, and anyone who wants to is invited to watch it as well, and comment and discuss it when I write the following entry on it. (or merely discuss, if it's a film you feel you're already familiar with, and don't have the time to watch it again.)

Here's a list of the films, all of which are available on DVD; I know some of them are going to be debatable as to whether they're considered a horror or monster film, but they are still generally considered to be part of the Universal Horror canon. Some of you will feel there are omissions, (King Kong may be owned by Universal now, but it was originally produced by RKO, and my initial focus is on the original Universal productions.) but I'd like to at least start off with my initial list. If a bunch of us have fun with this, we can certainly continue with some more suggestions.

• The Dracula films

Dracula (1931)

Dracula (Spanish version) (1931)

Dracula's Daughter (1936)

Son of Dracula (1943)

House of Dracula (1945)

• The Frankenstein films

Frankenstein (1931)

Bride of Frankenstein (1935)

Son of Frankenstein (1939)

Ghost of Frankenstein (1942)

Frankenstein Meets the Wolf Man (1943)

House of Frankenstein (1944)

• The Wolf Man films

The Wolf Man (1943)

Frankenstein Meets the Wolf Man (1943) (as already mentioned above)

• The Mummy films

The Mummy (1932)

The Mummy's Hand (1940)

The Mummy's Tomb (1942)

The Mummy's Ghost (1944)

The Mummy's Curse (1944)

• The Invisible Man films

The Invisible Man (1933)

The Invisible Man Returns (1940)

The Invisible Woman (1940)

Invisible Agent (1942)

The Invisible Man's Revenge (1944)

• The Creature From the Black Lagoon films

The Creature From the Black Lagoon (1954)

Revenge of the Creature (1955)

The Creature Walks Among Us (1956)

• The Inner Sanctum Mysteries

Calling Dr. Death (1943)

Weird Woman (1944)

Dead Man's Eyes (1944)

The Frozen Ghost (1945)

Strange Confession (1945)

Pillow of Death (1945)

• The Abbott and Costello monster films

Abbott and Costello Meet Frankenstein (1948)

Abbott and Costello Meet the Killer Boris Karloff (1949)

Abbott and Costello Meet the Invisible Man (1951)

Abbott and Costello Meet Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde (1953)

Abbott and Costello Meet the Mummy (1955)

• Additional films

The Hunchback of Notre Dame (1923)

The Phantom of the Opera (1925)

The Cat and the Canary (1927)

The Man Who Laughs (1928)

Murders in the Rue Morgue (1932)

The Old Dark House (1932)

The Black Cat (1934)

The Raven (1935)

Werewolf of London (1935)

The Invisible Ray (1936)

Night Key (1937)

Tower of London (1939)

Black Friday (1940)

The Black Cat (1941)

Man Made Monster (1941)

Horror Island (1941)

Night Monster (1942)

Captive Wild Woman (1943)

The Climax (1944)

She-Wolf of London (1946)

The Strange Door (1951)

The Black Castle (1952)

I'm going to start the weekend of April 15. (I want to get some prior commitments out of the way, and hey, a horror movie's a good way to deal with the end of tax season, right?)

I thought some people might like to join me for the ride whether it's just for part of the voyage or from start to finish.

I'm going to be a bit random in the selection of the films; the first will be:

The Wolf Man (1943) starring Lon Chaney Jr., Claude Rains, Evelyn Ankers, Ralph Bellamy and Bela Lugosi

http://youtu.be/zTNQEd8D4pg