Le génie fou

In another of John Barrymore's bizarre characterizations the great actor portrays a club-footed itinerant puppeteer who rescues an abused boy from vile existence,recognizes the lad's incredible of agility and footwork and begins to train the youngster to be a "new" Nijinsky.Years go by,the boy reaches manhood,and Barrymore the impresario of a successful ballet company.But when the ballet dancer begins to have ideas of his own,falls in love with pretty Marian Marsh,Barrymore,consumed with madness and jealousy attempts to manipulate their lives leading to shocking results. This extraordinary film oscillates between intriguing drama and moments of near horror with Barrymore in masterly control of his human puppets. Boris Karloff is the boy's monstrous father and Luis Alberni stands out as the drug-addicted ballet director.Magnificent direction by Michael Curtiz

John Barrymore stars as Vladimar Tsarakov, a crippled dance enthusiast who runs a traveling marionette show with his partner Karimsky (Charles Butterworth). After a show in Central Europe, they notice a young boy (Frankie Darro) being chased by his abusive father, with the boy displaying strength and grace of movement. Tsarakov smuggles the child away, and raises him to adulthood. Named Fedor (Donald Cook), the young man has become perhaps the greatest name in ballet, but his life is completely dominated by Tsarakov, who does everything in his power to make sure the young man stays focused, even if it means chasing away his new beloved Nana (Marian Marsh). Also featuring Boris Karloff.

Barrymore gets to go wild-eyed and over-the-top, while Cook makes for a leaden leading man. Butterworth's comic relief is amusing but seems out of place. Karloff has a small, unbilled role as the young Fedor's abusive father. I liked how Tsarakov maintains control over manic director Alberni by plying him with cocaine.

There is a story that has since become part of Hollywood folklore that Boris Karloff, still a relatively unknown supporting player, was summoned to the office of director Michael Curtiz. The Hungarian expatriate took one look at the slender, soft spoken Englishman and allegedly said "Good God, you're not Russian! I sent for you because your name is Karloff. It certainly sounds Russian! Oh well, now that you're here I guess I'll have to use you." It seems like a lot to go through for a role that lasts about 2 minutes onscreen and was probably completed in 1 day but Boris got the part anyway. In truth, Boris is so convincing hidden behind a beard and using a Russian accent that many people do not realise it is him! In those pre-FRANKENSTEIN days you could also spot Karloff in THE YELLOW TICKET in which he has no lines at all; or in THE PUBLIC DEFENDER where he is quite noticeable; or even CRACKED NUTS where he appeared opposite comedians Wheeler and Woolsey. It was not long after THE MAD GENIUS that director James Whale asked Karloff to test for, as he (Whale) put it, " . . .a damned awful monster." The rest, as they say, is history. Frankie Darro, whose role is almost as small as Boris', had already costared with Rin Tin Tin Sr in THE LIGHTNING WARRIOR (1930) and would meet up with Rinty Jr in THE WOLF DOG (1934).

In "The Mad Genius" John Barrymore delivers one of his most enjoyable screen performances, playing a club-footed, alcoholic, womanizing Russian puppeteer who takes an abused youth under his wing and molds him into a great star with the Ballet Russe, an accomplishment he could never attain himself due to his deformity. Some may consider his performance hammy, but at least it's Grade A.

The film opens expressionistically somewhere in "Central Europe" on a rain-drenched night with Barrymore and his dim-witted sidekick (the deadpan Charles Butterworth) rehearsing a traveling puppet show when a barefoot youth (Frankie Darro), fleeing a beating from his insanely sadistic father (Boris Karloff), stumbles into their tent. Barrymore and Butterworth hide him and leave town in a horse-drawn wagon shot at a tilted angle as it creaks along a muddy road.

Zip to Berlin several years later. The youth is now a young man (Donald Cook) who is in love with a fellow dancer (Marian Marsh). Barrymore, still the puppeteer but of humans now, wants no one interfering with his controlling relationship and maneuvers Marsh out of the company while elevating a lesser dancer to her position. Meanwhile, Barrymore's dance director (Luis Alberni) is slowly going mad from a cocaine addiction enabled by his employer. The two are locked together, feeding on each other's weaknesses, paralleling the central relationship between teacher-mentor and star-protégé. Barrymore needs Alberni's skills as a dance master; Alberni can't function without the drugs Barrymore provides.

The camera often shoots from low angles, with ceilings visible. Lots of chiaroscuro. Pre-Code subject matter includes extramarital cohabitation, prostitution, drug addiction, and (for the time) grisly violence. Suggestive dialogue abounds.

Barrymore feasts on the role. Luis Alberni plays the frenzied addict to the hilt. Marian Marsh and Donald Cook are sometimes mechanical and artificial but not to the extent that they undermine their roles and both have strong moments. Carmel Myers is excellent in a brief drunken scene with Barrymore.

Donald Cook looks so much like the Warners contract actress Kay Francis that they should have been cast in a movie together as siblings. Just sayin'.

In this interesting variation on the "Svengali" theme, JOHN BARRYMORE plays a crippled puppeteer with a club foot, who lives vicariously his dream of becoming a great dancer when he assumes responsibility for a runaway boy (FRANKIE DARRO) escaping the clutches of his cruel father (BORIS KARLOFF), well disguised with a thick Russian accent and wig that practically makes his features invisible.

Michael Curtiz has directed with enormous help from Anton Grot's well designed sets and a generous use of background music at a time when it was rare for most films to feature so much music on the soundtrack. Of course, dealing with theatrical productions, this was totally necessary. In many ways, the film is way ahead of its time. Not only are the sets on a grand scale, but the B&W photography is richly detailed and Barrymore gives one of his most intense performances as the Svengali-like puppet master who finds he can't control his discovery once love enters the picture.

Doll-faced MARIAN MARSH makes a lovely sort of "Trilby" character but DONALD COOK looks a bit uncomfortable in the role of Fedor, the dancer. The story is a little cumbersome in getting started, but once the plot starts spinning into high gear the suspense mounts and Curtiz stages all of the scenes involving theatrical productions in a manner that puts the film into the A-film category.

Worth seeing for Barrymore's fascinating performance, Russian accent and all, and remarkable in that "the talkies" were only four years old when the film was made and the technical advances are obvious.