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'.

The Mad Genius is far from the best of John Barrymore's sound films. But it certainly provides a character for him to go full blast in terms of style and yet not seem overacted. Barrymore's plays a cripple who wanted to be a great ballet dancer, but only is confined to doing puppet shows with his sidekick Charles Butterworth.

One day he and Butterworth rescue young Frankie Darro from a cruel father Boris Karloff. Barrymore sees in young Darro the promise and form of the dancer he wanted to be. This was before the Code so the homoerotic ideas in the scene are exploited to the max.

Fast forward a dozen years and Darro is now Donald Cook at the top of his game as a ballet dancer, a veritable Nijinsky. He's also got eyes for pretty Marian Marsh, but so has Barrymore.

Barrymore's years of training in the puppet theater have stood him in good stead as he's now a real puppet master, scheming and manipulating people to his will. His scene with Luis Alberni who is manager of the company to get him to do something he doesn't want to do is unforgettable. I won't reveal what he has over him, but this also was a subject later banned by the Code.

Not the best of Barrymore's work, but it should provide a real introduction to his acting. And he's given great support by the ensemble Warner Brothers and director Michael Curtiz gave him.

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

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.