The Mad Genius

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'.

Yet another 1930s film that I first saw on TV in the 1950s.. It was the first time that I had ever seen ballet on film and the first time that I had ever seen the great John Barrymore. My mother, who used to watch these movies with me and gave me my first background knowledge of them, explained who he was and that he had two famous siblings Lionel & Ethel. While I would later see many other John Barrymore vehicles including this film's precursor SVENGALI, it was over 40 years before I had the chance to see THE MAD GENIUS again and that was on a converted Region 2 VHS tape. Now I have it on this MOD disc from the Warner Archive Collection and it's a real treat.

John Barrymore plays Ivan Tsarakov, a vagabond puppeteer who rescues a young boy from his brutal father (Boris Karloff before FRANKENSTEIN). He trains the young boy to become the ballet dancer he never could be because of a club foot. They both become very successful with Barrymore turning into a dictatorial impresario much like Anton Walbrook in THE RED SHOES. Both are based on the real life head of the Ballet Russe, Serge Diaghilev although GENIUS predates SHOES by 17 years. This film was done as a followup to the earlier SVENGALI which also featured Barrymore and Marian Marsh.

The story is basic and would get recycled many times. Gifted dancer Fedor (played by Donald Cook and based on the great dancer Nijinsky) leads his ballet troupe to international acclaim under the guidance of tyrannical impresario Barrymore. When Fedor falls in love with a young dancer in the troupe (Marsh) everything goes to hell in a handbasket leading to a bizarre and horrific finale. The movie was directed by a pre-CASABLANCA Michael Curtiz and is full of German Expressionistic touches. Supporting turns by Charles Butterworth and especially Luis Alberni (also from SVENGALI) as a drug addicted choreographer add to the mix. Not a great movie but an extremely memorable one. Highly recommended for fans of Barrymore and 1930s pre-Code cinema...For more reviews visit The Capsule Critic.

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.

This film feels a little like a Tod Browning production, with John Barrymore in the role of a dark, twisted man that we could imagine Lon Chaney playing for Browning, but it's actually directed by Michael Curtiz. Barrymore leads a ballet troupe and jealously guards his young protégé (Donald Cook), who he's raised from a boy since essentially stealing him from his abusive peasant father (Boris Karloff, briefly). He wants to use him to live out his own frustrated dreams of being a great dancer. He has no problem supplying the young man with lovers from the troupe, but doesn't want him to form any attachments, for fear it will impact his artistic abilities, and also of course because he's afraid of losing control. Enter Marian Marsh, a sweet young dancer who he falls in love with, thus setting up the central conflict in the film.

When he's not busy trying to control the young man, Barrymore is up to no good elsewhere. He supplies drugs to his conductor (Luis Alberni), who is desperately addicted. He makes it clear to young ballerinas (Mae Madison and later Carmel Myers) that if they want to get ahead, they need to "see him" in his private office. He also berates his secretary (Charles Butterworth, who provides some comic relief with his bumbling), responding to one of his ideas by saying "It's incredible. It's unbelievable... that there should be any human being living who is such a stupid ass." Barrymore is excellent throughout the film and turns in a performance that dominates, though Cook and Marsh are reasonably good as well. The brief segments of ballet scenes, often in practice, show realistic and solid dancing.

The film starts strong, but loses a little bit of its steam in the second half, and not completely living up to its potential. The direction from Curtiz is great, with creative shot angles and editing, but the plot is a little simple. It's hard to believe I'd say that a film with open drug use, predatory sexual behavior, and an axe murder wouldn't be dark enough, and yet, somehow I wanted more. Maybe I've been watching too many pre-code movies lately.