DoctorOod

Universal embalmed the Phantom in a Technicolor coffin in 1943. Spectacular sets and costuming, a cloying romantic triangle, inappropriate comedy, and plodding direction doom a production that cannot be saved by even this large, talented cast. It is not a horror movie. It is an MGM musical kind of production (without the pizzazz) in which the horror elements are subordinated to an onslaught of boring opera that adds nothing to the story or pacing. The original with Chaney, and Hammer's version with Herbert Lom are by far superior and more engaging. The pretentious abomination of Andrew Lloyd Webber's musical version can trace its lineage to this film, as can the 1998 floperoo starring Julian Sands.

As other reviewers have noted, it was apparently shot without a script and grafted on to another unfinished movie. Christopher Lee is the attraction here, but even he can't salvage this doomed production. Its incomparable awfulness encompases: 1) the single worst acting performance ever committed to film (Ardisson, as "Gugo," itself an unforgettable travesty); 2) the flabby has-been stripper Alma De Rio stumbling through a dance in which she waddles drunkenly while wiggling her hefty avordupois (without removing a stitch, thank God); and, 3) a solo guitar dirge opening "theme" that sounds like a 10 year-old trying to pick out a tune on an instrument for the first time. Execrable and stupefying, like watching an animal eating another animal's vomit.or feces.

This is a nice, efficient mystery/thriller, enlivened by the presence of Boris Karloff and Edward van Sloane. Karloff is fine in this non-monster role, as a cocky, bowler wearing, cigar smoking crook. His presence (in retrospect) also provides a cachet of horror to the mix. This movie, after all, was shooting just as Frankenstein was released. The rest of the cast is very good and the direction is no-nonsense, straight ahead story telling (if a bit improbable). Things keep moving so quickly you don't really have time to question the plot's realism. But the real kick and revelation is Edward van Sloane in a dual/triple role -- in particular, his portrayal of Dr. Steiner, with his crackling electronic gear, his google-eye specs, his trilling foreign accent -- apparently having the time of his life as an sinister, conniving doctor masterminding a dope ring. His sadistic banter during the film's climax is convincing enough to rank with the best of Lionel Atwill's or Bela Lugosi's incarnations of mad doctors at the height of their madness.