The Undying Monster

The Undying Monster is a screenplay of a mystery novel about the legend concerning a particular old English family (the Hammonds), and as such, is an excellent outing. The Sherlock Holmes mystery adventure,'The Hound of the Baskervilles' received great acclaim even though at the conclusion, the legend proved to be a hoax, whereas in 'The Undying Monster' the legend was based on the 'real deal'. The unique story (with it's unexplained incidents throughout the family history, the unanswered questions, the hints,clues,innuendos,insinuations, and so on) plus the production values essential for an effective suspense atmosphere (the sets, musical score,sound effects, and a pace that was kept fresh by diversionary light humored relief which is necessary to keep the viewer engulfed in an old english mystery story and not losing them through drama fatigue) are all there.

I think the film is exceptionally moody and sinister—and subtly subversive. Director John Brahm may not have been an auteur, but this German director imported by Fox from England certainly was a master at using light and shadow to induce the creeps. Or was celebrated cinematographer Lucien Ballard the genius? Much has been made of similarities between "The Undying Monster" and "Hound of the Baskervilles" released by Fox three years earlier. But there is more to the similarity than Fox's attempt to cash in on an earlier success. In "Hound of the Baskervilles" Sherlock Holmes debunked the Baskerville curse as a diversion used to cover up a murder attempt. The writers of "The Undying Monster" subverted the audience's belief that there would be a similar natural explanation of an apparently supernatural attack in which a member of the Hammond family is injured. The Hammond curse concerns an ancestor who is supposed to have made a pact with the devil for immortality. The ancient ancestor is still rumored to live in a secret room in the castle's cellar from which he preys on his descendants, thereby prolonging his unnatural life. In this film the murderer is indeed a werewolf.

But this astonishing revelation is muted by a curiously unconvincing final scene in which a forensic pathologist from Scotland Yard, who has witnessed the creature's transformation back into human form, tosses off the unprecedented phenomenon as something perfectly natural. Lycanthropy, says the investigator, is merely a person's delusion that he can change into a wolf. The family doctor admits he has been treating the monster for a genetic brain affliction. But we have seen it was much more that a delusion. We remember what the investigator conveniently forgets, that a sample of wolf's fur from the crime scene miraculously disappeared during chemical analysis. The unwarranted insertion of a "logical" explanation for the curse steers the film away from an uncomfortably audacious premise, and toward the inoffensive conventions of an old dark house mystery.

But the film began with something much more sinister in mind. When Helga, the mistress of the manor, leads investigators to the Hammond family crypt, we see that near Crusader Sir Reginald Hammond's sarcophagus stands a statue of Sir Reginald and a beast that has a dog's, wolf's, or jackal's face and paws, but human arms and unmistakable female breasts. The pathologist dismisses the beast's odd appearance with the facile comment "Man has always bred the dog into fantastic shapes." There are no further references to Sir Reginald, and the final scene feels as if it had been tacked on in post-production, more so because Heather Angel who played Helga, the investigator's love interest, is not in the scene. My guess is that fear of the Hayes office caused Fox not to carry through with the dark suggestion that Sir Reginald's pact unleashed evil upon his descendants. The otherworldy combination of male and female, human and animal characteristics of the wolf in Sir Reginald's statue suggests at the very least he was involved in an unholy union that may have spawned male descendants genetically tainted with diabolical traits. If detected, such a theme would surely have roused the ire of the censors. Fox's timidity may therefore have cost this handsomely mounted film, that sported more elaborate sets and technique than Universal had at its disposal, any chance to join the A list of B films from the 1940s horror cycle.

Nevertheless, it's an entertaining film if you can look past the ending and the comic relief provided by an assistant investigator who comes off as a female version of the bumbling Dr. Watson of the Holmes movies.

In the 1930s and 40s, Hollywood made thousands of "B" movies--movies that had lower budgets and were made to run as the lesser of the two films at a double-feature. This little mystery-horror film is one of the better ones I've seen in some time--thanks to surprisingly decent performances and a novel and well-written script--things you don't normally find in Bs.

The film begins with an attack by what seems to be an animal on some rich folks at their country manor in Britain. While an inspector from Scotland Yard investigates, it soon becomes obvious that many people there are trying to hide the truth. Some claim the attack was the result of a mythical beast that has haunted this family for generations, though the inspector is naturally very dubious of this.

The film excels in that the script is lacking the usual holes and logical errors common to B-movies. Plus, while there is a horror element, the film really succeeds as a mystery and suspense film. About the only problem in the film, and it's a small one, is that one of the characters (the hot-shot female investigator) is a bit obnoxious and stupid from time to time. However, this is a tiny problem only and seeing the forensics employed in the film is really quite fascinating today.

"B material given A execution" is how film historian Drew Casper describes 20th Century Fox's first horror movie, 1942's "The Undying Monster," in one of the DVD's extras, and dang if the man hasn't described this movie to a T. The film, a unique melding of the detective, Gothic and monster genres, though uniformly well acted by its relatively no-name cast, features a trio of first-rate artists behind the camera who really manage to put this one over. And the film's script isn't half bad either. Here, Scotland Yard scientist Robert Curtis (James Ellison) comes to eerie Hammond Hall, a brooding pile on the English coast, sometime around 1900, to investigate some recent attacks ascribed to the legendary Hammond monster. Viewers expecting this legend of a voracious predator to wind up being explained in an anticlimactic, mundane fashion may be a bit surprised at how things play out. Ellison is fine in his no-nonsense, modern-detective role (he uses a spectrograph to analyze various clues!), and Heather Angel (who does have the face of one), playing the house's mistress, is equally good. But, as I've mentioned, it is the contributions of three men behind the scenes that really turn this little B into a work of art. Director John Brahm, who would go on to helm Fox's "The Lodger" and "Hangover Square," and DOP Lucien Ballard have combined their formidable talents to make a picture that is noirish, moody and fast moving, with superb use of light and shadow. And composer David Raksin, who two years later would achieve enduring fame for his score for that classiest of film noirs, "Laura," has co-contributed some background music here that is both mysterious and exciting. Fox head Darryl F. Zanuck apparently had hopes that "The Undying Monster" would be the opening salvo in his studio's bid to challenge Universal's monster domination, and in retrospect, it does seem like a fair way to start. This DVD, by the way, looks just fantastic, and sports more "extras" than you would believe capable of accompanying a minor B. All in all, a very pleasant surprise.

The Undying Monster belongs to the same genre of films that Val Lewton was producing at RKO in the forties: something I call 'gothic noir'. Lucien Ballard's rich black and white photography hints of his future work on noir classics like Laura and The Killing, and John Brahm's assured direction makes the absolute most of the rather pedestrian scenario. There are some simply amazing compositions for what was obviously a second feature, and the cast is buoyed by stalwarts Halliwell Hobbes and Holmes Herbert (I love the way their names sound together!). There's even a brief scene that features a shaky cam in extreme closeup--half a century before Blair Witch Project. Highest recommendation for noir fans, though blood and guts horror mavens will probably be disappointed.