Tonight I was excited to find what I thought was an unknown Brain Movie : "The Lady and the Monster"(1944). Though the title was generic and sounded more like a fairy tale, I knew it was about Brains because of the IMDB synopsis. Seeing that Erich von Stroheim was one of the stars cinched it for me, and I began watching with great anticipation.
Von Stroheim, who we saw a few weeks ago in "The Crime of Dr. Crespi", plays a Mad Scientist named Professor Mueller. He works in a well-appointed laboratory inside an old castle in Arizona. I'll bet you didn't know they had castles in AZ. Neither did I. But they do, and Prof. Mueller is busy experimenting inside his. He's transplanting monkey brains, a theme we explored just the other day in "The Man Without a Body". We often have cross-references in our movies!
Just like the doctor in that film, von Stroheim wants to graduate to human brains, and who can blame him? This was the standard to which all Mad Scientists aspired in sci- fi movies of the '40s and '50s. There's something about Brains, with their squiggly hemispheres - they just beg to be transplanted! I have to detour for a moment to tell you about a personal experience that had a great effect on me. When I was in fourth grade, there was a kid in our class named Andrew R. His Dad was a brain surgeon. One day, we had Show-and-Tell, and Andrew brought in a jar that had a human brain inside. The jar was one of those white, ceramic jobs with a lid on top, that you knew was from a medical lab. It was the size of a soup pot. When it was Andrew's turn to show and tell, he gave a brief introduction and our teacher passed this jar around, for all the kids to see. When it came to me, I glanced at the Brain and was grossed out and, for a split second, frightened. The formaldehyde smelled really bad, the brain was squishy looking - just like in the movies - and undoubtedly real. Afterwards, some of the kids grumbled about Andrew's contribution. "Why'd he have to bring a brain to class? It almost made me sick"! Everyone agreed that it was gross, and I'm sure that many of my classmates remember it to this day, as I do.
That's what Brains will do to ya. But back to our story, a serendipitous plane crash presents von Stroheim with the chance he's been waiting for. As the only doctor available, he is called to the site to check on possible survivors. Alas, there are none. The lone passenger was a man named William H. Donovan. It was here that I got a feeling of cinematic deja-vu. The State Troopers tell von Stroheim to leave the body for the coroner. "He'll pick it up in the morning. You can go now". But when they leave, Von Stroheim packs Donovan's corpse into the trunk of his sedan. Then he drives back to the castle, where he prepares it for post-mortem surgery.
"Get me the Gigli saw"!, he yells to one of his assistants, the lovely "Janice" (Vera Ralston). She and "Dr. Patrick Cory" (Richard Arlen) live with von Stroheim. Both are up and coming neurological researchers who admire the madman's brilliance. They've volunteered to assist him for free, just to be part of his team. Dr. Cory and Janice are also in love, which von Stroheim resents, as he is infatuated with Janice himself.
But back to the Gigli saw. I had never heard this term, and it sounded so weird and creepy (the Giggly saw?) that I almost paused the movie to look it up. Fortunately, von Stroheim gave me a definition right away. "Outline the skull for trepanning"! Well, I knew what trepanning was. It's another one of those words you never forget, like amputation. How horrible a word is that? Anyway, trepanning is something else I first had ex-schperience with as a kid. No, I wasn't trepanned myself (though some may say otherwise, haha). What I had was a copy of National Geographic that showed Ancient Skulls that had had holes cut into them, at the crown. This was a way, according to the folks at National Geo, for old-time surgeons to "let Evil Spirits out" of the patient's body. The point is that the writer of the article used the word "trepanning" to describe the procedure, and I never forgot it, so when von Stroheim mentioned it in the movie, I knew what the Gigli saw was for. Yikes! "Get me the Gigli saw", indeed!
While von Stroheim is removing the cranuim of the plane crash victim, Dr. Cory begins to get nervous. "Excuse me, Dr. Mueller, but.........isn't this illegal"? The question sends von Stroheim into another tirade, which he tends toward in all of his movies. Tirades must be a contractual stipulation with him.
"Who cares"!, he thunders. "Do you realise what this could mean for the future of science? Besides, no one will know. We will simply remove Donovan's brain, replace the skull, and take the body back to the crash site. Now stop asking questions and get me the forceps"!
When he said "Donovan's brain", deja vu became remembrance. All of a sudden I knew I was watching a prior version of the film with that exact title, "Donovan's Brain", made in 1953. Coincidentally, we saw it on March 19th, the very first day of the quarantine. It was the first film in our foray into science fiction, which branched out into the public domain shortly thereafter. "Donovan's Brain" starred Lew Ayers in the Dr. Cory role. First Lady Nancy Davis played his assistant and love interest. Both characters were composites, there was no von Stroheim madman in the 1953 film and the story was rewritten as a truncated version of the original novel by Curt Siodmak, also entitled "Donovan's Brain". I discovered that "The Lady and the Monster" was the first movie version, and the filmmakers apparently decided to be faithful to the book.
The problem was that it led to a lot of confusion. I can see why Felix Feist, the director of "Donovan's Brain", decided to simplify things. The main thrust of both movies is that Dr. Cory, once he finds out that William H. Donovan was a wealthy investment banker, decides to use mental telepathy to "talk" to Donovan's brain, which is being kept alive by electrodes (the usual method, haha). Dr. Cory, who was at first apprehensive about the matter, is now gung ho to communicate with the brain, because - similar to the protagonist's motivation in the Nostradamus movie - he wants investment tips that will net him a fortune. The chance for easy money has corrupted the good doctor, who pushes von Stroheim aside to take over the experiment. Soon, he has succeeded in "talking" to Donovan's Brain, to the extent that he's absorbing the man's personality. In short, Dr. Cory is becoming William H. Donovan, to the point where he can replicate his signature. He uses this ability to withdraw huge sums from Donovan's bank account.
In the 1953 film, the story remained focused on Cory's corruption and his wife's efforts to free him from the Brain's hold (he's married to Janice in this version). But in "The Lady and the Monster", the writers throw in the whole kit-'n-kaboodle. Now, there's not only the monetary angle, but a very complex theme about freeing an innocent man from prison that shares equal screen time. Dr. Cory, as "Donovan", orders his lawyer to "do whatever it takes" to free a condemned murderer from Folsom. The reason being that "he's innocent"! Why this concerns "Donovan" we won't learn until much later. In the meantime, he tries bribing the warden, pushing for a new trial, even petitioning the Governor for clemency. He does all this in the guise of Dr. Cory, but we in the audience know Cory has been taken over by Donovan.
Long story short, the von Stroheim character is basically pushed out of the picture until the end, and so is the coherent storyline. Once the "innocent murderer" plot takes hold, you won't be able to make heads or tails of what's going on, and I know it wasn't just me because the filmmakers felt the need to insert an expository scene in the last three minutes where Cory's lawyer "explains everything", right down to the last confounding detail. It's as if the studio bosses saw the final cut and said "what the Hell was that all about"?, and ordered the explanation written in.
Once again we have half a good film, though the atmosphere is exceptional for the duration. Cinematographer John Alton shot the movie as a Noir and did a brilliant job. On a side note, his IMDB bio says he began his career as a Lab Technician at MGM in 1924, so maybe he operated the same black-and-white developing machine that I did 55 years later! But yeah, his photography and the art direction are what keep you watching, despite the baffling script. Erich von Stroheim is as great, and diabolical, as always, but as noted his character disappears once the "prison plot" takes over.
I'll be generous and give "The Lady and the Monster" Two Regular Thumbs Up. I was gonna give it One and One Half, and not recommend it, but I changed my mind because everything looks so good, including von Stroheim's laboratory. I'll just add that if you do watch it, make sure to follow it up with the superior 1953 version. That's a no-fat film that cuts to the heart of the matter, or should I say the brain? /////
That's all for the moment. Lemme see what I can find for tonight. See you in a couple of hours.
Tons of love! xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo :):)
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