Columbia was one of the slowest—and most tentative—of all studios to hop on the horror-movie bandwagon in the wake of Universal’s success with Dracula (1931) and Frankenstein (1931). They dabbled a bit with Behind the Mask (1932) and imported Bela Lugosi for an old dark-house thriller (and high-mortality “body count” prototype) Night of Terror (1933), but something always kept them from pursuing the genre the way the other studios did. So, it’s a bit of a surprise to find Columbia’s The Black Room (1935) in the running as one of the best horror pictures of the ‘30s. It’s actually something of an aberration on a couple levels. Even though it was cheaper to make a period picture in the studio era—standing sets and costumes were easily at hand—it still added to the cost, but perhaps the logic was that the studio had imported Boris Karloff from Universal, and so the extra expense of setting The Black Room in the 1800s was justifiable.
It’s also a little odd that the studio cast Karloff in a dual role as twin brothers—one good, one evil, naturally—and didn’t want him to play a monster of some sort, nor even something supernatural. Karloff is no monster here (though his Gregor is certainly monstrous), and the film only touches on the supernatural as concerns fulfilling an old family prophecy. But make no mistake, The Black Room—as directed by the underrated and very stylish Roy William Neill—is every inch a horror film, even if it’s horror in the barnstorming melodrama vein. It’s also a classy film with one (or should I say two?) of Karloff’s best performances, which is backed up by an unusually strong supporting cast. As a classic of 1930s horror, The Black Room ought to be better known than it is. Here’s a chance to catch up with it.
I don’t recall ever seeing this film, but am now intrigued to do so. As for Karloff’s best performance, that’s hard to say but among the films I’d cast a vote for would be Val Lewton’s THE BODY SNATCHER, with Bela Lugosi in a small role.
For some reason, I’ve never warmed to The Body Snatcher. Maybe it’s my staunch preference for Lugosi over Karloff. I’m not sure. I’d probably go with The Mummy, The Black Cat or Bride of Frankenstein for Karloff’s very best performances, but The Black Room is not to sneezed at — if only for his discourse on the merits of the pear.
“I’d probably go with The Mummy, The Black Cat or Bride of Frankenstein for Karloff’s very best performances”
Those were great performances, alright. THE BLACK CAT ranks way up there for sure. I watch that movie about once a year or so (more often than either of the other two titles).
I like THE BODY SNATCHER but have always found it a little dull despite the famous ending. My favorite Karloff performances aside from those you mentioned can be found in THE DEVIL COMMANDS and THE HAUNTED STRANGLER. His most frightening performance can be found in THE INCREDIBLE DOKTOR MARKESAN episode from his THRILLER TV series which was directed by Robert Florey.
Thanks for the tip of the hat to Roy William Neill. Aside from the modern day Sherlock Holmes films with Basil Rathbone and Nigel Bruce which most people know, he directed a stylish early Technicolor silent film THE VIKING and made THE CONQUEST OF CANAAN right here in Asheville back in 1921.
The Devil Commands most definitely ranks up there. I can’t claim great fondness for The Haunted Strangler, but I haven’t seen it in years. It’s probably longer since I saw the Thriller episode. Now for enjoyably overripe cheese, there’s nothing quite like his Janos Rukh in The Invisible Ray.
As for Neill, let’s not forget Black Moon and The Ninth Guest — the latter is a film version of a novel called Invisible Host and forms the basis for the Karloff vehicle The Man They Could Not Hang. It also bears more than a passing resemblance to Agatha Christie’s And Then There Were None. And, of course, there’s Neill’s Technicolored Jon Hall-Maria Montez opus Gypsy Wildcat.