31 Days, 31 Years of Horror (Starting in '31)

31 Days, 31 Years of Horror, starting in '31 -- So for Halloween this year, I watched and reviewed a movie (or two) per day, with each day of October representing a year, starting with 1931. Here is the line-up:

Murder by the Clock (1931) - Remember that scene in Wayne's World 2 where Kim Basinger seduces Garth and then tries to convince him in a round-about way to kill her husband? That is basically this movie for 74 minutes. Lilyan Tashman plays Laura Endicott, a sexy-but-horribly-amoral monster who is not above using her body (or the promise of it) to convince people to kill for her. The movie makes no effort to hide her villainous credentials, so the question is not "Who dunnit?", but rather "How will the plan go wrong?"

Apparently this was the first horror movie to be released in the wake of the monumental success that was Universal's adaptation of Dracula starring Bela Lugosi. It's nominally a horror film, especially by today's standards. It's not quite mystery; I suppose you can call it the great-grandfather (or -mother) of the sort of erotic thriller that became popular in the 1990s with Basic Instinct.


Murders in the Rue Morgue (1932) - An early Poe adaptation produced by Universal Studios when they were the Kings of Horror. This one has little to do with the source material, save a scene or two; the main character, Dupin; and the presence of an ape.

What we have is the evil Dr. Mirakle (Bela Lugosi, decked with a wondrous unibrow) trying to prove the Theory of Evolution in 19th century France by injecting gorilla blood in the local female population. The blood solution proves fatals to the local strumpets, so perhaps he needs a virgin instead. And maybe, just maybe, Camille, the girlfriend of med student and amateur detective Pierre Dupin, will suffice.

On one hand, you have some decent set design and matte paintings, plus Bela Lugosi chewing up scenery with nonsensical speeches about evolution that would make even Lamarck spin in his grave. But then again, you have a gorilla that is played by a chimpanzee in close-ups, and a ratty costume when seen from a distance. And as much as I'm not a fan of presentism, the four main characters' racist dismissal of the Middle Eastern belly dancers in the opening carnival scene makes me wish the gorilla would just strangle everyone.

The Vampire Bat (1933) - A little German village is terrorized by a murderer who drains the blood of his victims. The superstitious population thinks the supernatural is afoot and that a vampire has made his home in town. The local constable, Karl Brettschneider (Melvyn Douglas), is a bit more modern and practical and thinks that it's "just" a very talented serial killer. Just who is right in this case?

I owned this movie on VHS for many years--I think I got it as a present from one of my aunts. I only watched it once, however. Young me only wanted to see non-stop monster action, and this movie is very talky. As an adult, I can appreciate some of the photography and editing--the wipe-away effect is used for scene transitions, probably an early example of that. And Fay Wray was not only beautiful, but this role didn't require her to spend the second half screaming, so she's pleasant to be around.

The Ninth Guest (1934) - Interesting film based on a novel (and a play), all three of which predate the publication of Agatha Christie's And Then There Were None... by a few years. Eight people high upon NYC's social ladder are invited to a party in the penthouse of a 50-story skyscraper by an unknown host. Once inside, a voice on the radio informs them that they will die one by one, unless they can outwit him (or her). Cue the deaths, revelation of secrets and growing paranoia among the victims.

Much like the 2004 film Mindhunters, there is an overwhelming feeling that the "host" is not only a beast when it comes to psychology, but that his powers of reason border on a Professor X level of mind reading. But if you can suspend disbelief in that regard, the film is a fun watch. I like how the host points the guests to a bottle of caustic acid for those who "don't want to play the game"; a few minutes later, one of guests tries to poison EVERYBODY ELSE just to ensure his own survival. Well, that explains that person's invitation to the party right up front.

The Werewolf of London (1935) - This film tells the story of a botanist (Henry Hull) who finds a nigh-magical plant in Tibet that is nourished by the moonlight and blooms at night. He is attacked by a werewolf during his journey, but survives and brings the plant back to England. He learns from a Japanese scientist (Swedish actor Warner Oland, best known for playing Charlie Chan) that the plant serves as a temporary respite from lycanthropy and that he himself has contracted it. As the moon enters its "Full" phase, the botanist finds himself transforming into a werewolf and targeting his long-suffering wife.

The portrayal of the werewolf in this movie falls somewhere between Lon Chaney Jr.'s mindless killer and then-contemporary depictions of Mr. Hyde. He does mangle beautiful women all over London, but he doesn't forget to put on his jacket, hat and scarf before leaving his lab to do so. I did like his first transformation, in which the camera is placed so that he walk by a column or some obstruction, only to emerge on the other side with more make-up on.


The Rogues Tavern (1936) - Another murder mystery set in a single location--a hotel--with the guests being brought together by a series of mysterious telegrams, and then start dying one by one. The killer leaves bite marks in their necks. Is there lycanthropy afoot? Another pair of guests, a detective and his girlfriend, are on the case!

I liked the killer's modus operandi and the would have enjoyed it better if the film's hero weren't such a sexist boor. Seriously, he's a complete jerk to his fiancée, right up to the final shot. I would have preferred a subversion of the trope and had him be completely useless while his girlfriend--a former department store detective--did all the heavy lifting (although she does make a lot of contributions to the solution).

Sh! The Octopus (1937) - Apparently, this is a parody of a parody--parody #1 being The Gorilla (filmed in both 1927 and 1930, both of which are lost) and the subject being The Cat and the Canary (which isn't lost). In modern terms, it's the Scary Movie (or Shriek If You Know What I Did Last Friday the Thirteenth) to The Gorilla's Scream.

Basically, a bunch of different people wind up in a lighthouse on a stormy night, including a painter, two salty sailors, two idiot detectives, the daughter of a scientist-inventor, and a couple of other people. The lighthouse may be the hideout for an arch-criminal called The Octopus. Plus, there appears to be a highly-intelligent giant octopus roaming the grounds, too.

The film has a giant rubber octopus and a nice moment of sudden make-up change at the end, which was really nifty. I like the setting, which includes the cabin next to the lighthouse, a hidden control room, and a series of caves located in the basement of the cabin. Otherwise, it's just a lot of motor-mouthed banter from the two detectives that might have been funny in 1937, but only made me smile once or twice (now in 2022).

Chamber of Horrors (1940) - Another crime mystery, this time about a rich guy who dies and leaves his estate to his young son. Most curiously, the family jewels are to be placed in the family crypt along with the dead man's body, behind a door closed with seven locks, to be opened only when the young master comes of age and gets married. 10 years later, the young master's cousin, a pretty young lady from Quebec, receives word from his aging tutor, who needs to get something off his chest...

Outside of the King Kong property, I believe this is my first film based on the works of crime writer Edgar Wallace. His works were frequently adapted in the 30s and 40s, and then became a cottage industry in Germany in the 60s, where they were called Krimi films. Chamber of Horrors was an fun little mystery with gloved hands killing people, a room full of torture devices, paintings with holes where the eyes should be, and lots of double crossing. Recommended.

The Wolfman (1941) - I'd actually never seent his one before. It's a classic tale of the duality of man's nature. In this movie, Larry Talbot (Lon Chaney Jr.) comes back to England to become the heir to his father's estate (the father being played by Claude Raines). He gets bitten by a werewolf one evening while trying to saving a young lady and becomes the titular creature.

Lon Chaney Jr. totally sells his character and gives him the likability he needs before he contracts lycanthropy so that you feel bad for him once he develops and unwanted alter-ego. Jack Pierce's make-up is also iconic, although for some reason, I thought the movie would give us a slow face transformation sequence--we get a reverse one at the very end. Recommended for horror fans, Twi-hards, and general fans of cinema.

The Cat People (1942) - A man falls in love with a Serbian woman (French actress Simone Simon) who believes herself to be cursed: legends say that her village descended into witchcraft and devil worship back when the Mamlukes were terrorizing her end of Europe (around the 15th century). The descendants of those witches could transform into panthers when angry, scared, jealous...or aroused. Although the two marry, the woman refuses to consummate the relationship because of her fear of the legend. Is it true? Or all in her head?

I suppose you could see this in part as an allegory for the ravages of mental illness on a marriage (and human relationships in general). One could conceivably replace "mental illness" with other things like "childhood trauma," "bad or incorrect traditions and beliefs," and stuff like that.


Frankenstein Meets the Wolfman (1943) - Like Jason Voorhees or Dracula, we open with a bunch of grave robbers visiting the tomb of the Talbot family...on the night of the FULL MOON. Upon opening Larry Talbot's coffin, his perfectly-preserved body (this should already be a warning sign for the robbers) is exposed to the light of the moon and he is revived. He sets out across Europe to find Maleva, the gypsy lady, and ask her what he can do so he can just die. She directs him to Castle Frankenstein, but the Baron and his sons are all long dead...

The movie was a lot of fun to watch, but doesn't bear up to more than two seconds' worth of scrutiny. The film is very wonky with the concept of time, although things like character motivation also suffer. It's the 1940s equivalent to a Hollywood blockbuster sequel that focuses so much on the action (since the first film or films took care of all the exposition) that the script forgets to make much sense.

The Mummy’s Ghost (1944) - The High Priest of Arkan (George Zucco) sends yet another priest (John Carradine) to the States to revive the mummy Kharis (Lon Chaney Jr.) so that they can reclaim the mummy of Princess Anankha and return her to Egypt. There's a slight snag in the plan: Anankha has been reincarnated into a pretty young girl (Rasmay Alves). More of the same as the previous two films—The Mummy’s Hand and The Mummy’s Tomb--but with a suprisingly downbeat ending.

The Mummy’s Curse (1944) - The "Kharis Saga" ends with this film, probably the worst of the bunch. The previous film ended with Kharis "drowning" in a Massachusetts swamp. This one has Kharis being discovered in a swamp...in the Louisiana bayou. Wait, what? Those Egyptian priests are at it again, resurrecting Kharis and trying to return Anankha's body to Egypt. But our reincarnated princess has also been resurrected (somehow) and may simply not want to go back.

The love story between the bland (and barely seen) male lead and his equally-bland (and also little seen) female counterpart is so shoe'd in that you can see the shoe horn marks all over it. Nothing is explained in terms of lore with regards to what happens to princess Anankha. Between this and the previous film, you get the feeling that Egyptian Gods are a bunch of Grade-A pricks who get off on resurrecting and reincarnating people just to kill them shortly afterward. And as usual, the villain' plot is ruined because one character wants to get in some immortal panties and pisses off the mummy.

Fog Island (1945) - Tycoon-turned-ex-con George Zucco invites a bunch people--those who cheated him and landed him a gig in the penitentiary--to his mansion at the titular locale with retribution in mind. Of course, being the greedy bastards they are, they accept the invitation on the off-chance that he might have liquidated some of his pre-prison fortune and hidden it there. Enjoyable little mystery-suspense, or "chiller" as they were called.

The Spiral Staircase (1946) - This film is actually a very well-made murder mystery with a hint of Gothic Romance to it. Dorothy McGuire plays Helen, a mute lady who works as a servant at a large mansion belonging to the Warren Family circa 1915. The village--somewhere in New England--has been subject to a number of murders in the past few days and the local constable thinks that Helen may be next.

One can see the Giallo influences in this film, from the black gloves we see whenever the camera focuses on the unidentified killer skulking around, to the occasional shots of the killer's eye as he or she watches his victims from afar. I can't help but wonder if Dario Argento hadn't seen this before doing Deep Red three decades later. I'm also pretty sure that it inspired Bob Clark for his Black Christmas, which also had some creepy eye shots of the killer and the characters' not realizing that the killer has installed themselves in the house.

Scared to Death (1947) - A notable film for being Bela Lugosi's only one shot in color. It also has an interesting, if poorly realized, gimmick of the film being told from the POV of the murder victim. A woman--a former French dancer--is convinced that her husband and father-in-law (George Zucco) are trying to drive her insane. Could it be one of them who is galavanting the grounds of the house wearing a spooky mask? Or perhaps it's the husband's sinister uncle, played by Bela Lugosi? Maybe the fast-talking (and ultra-sexist) reporter Lee can break the case! Just kinda ho-hum in the end.


The Creeper (1948) - Interesting mix of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde and Gaslight. A team of scientists returns from the West Indies, where they developed a special serum derived from cats, to continue their research stateside. The head scientist of the team has an adult daughter who suffered some trauma over there--she works as an assistant lab technician--and is now deathly afraid of cats. Meanwhile, murders are occurring around the laboratory--the victims are scratched to death. Just what's going on? This is one of those movies that could be remade effectively--at 64 minutes there's a lot of material that could be expanded upon and explained better.

Destination Moon (1950) - Yeah, yeah. This isn't a "horror" movie. Like the previous year, horror films were in short supply in 1950. So, I went with the essential science fiction movie of 1950 and arguably the one that set off the 50s Sci-Fi craze (it also won the Oscar for Best Special Effects). Besides, since costume manufacturers have gone so far as to make "Sexy Astronaut" costumes, a classic movie about astronauts is allowed.

The plot is pretty simple. Two years after the failed launch of a rocket, a top scientist and his general pal build an atomic engine with the hopes of going to the Moon. They convince a brilliant engineer-industrialist to participate in the project and bring all his fellow industrialist cronies onboard to help finance it (with the help of an in-film cartoon starring Woody Woodpecker). There are lots of roadblocks along the way, but they ultimately make it to the Moon. But getting back is another story.

I once started watching this during a session of TNT's Monster Vision circa 1992, but switched it off because it was a bit dry for my tastes--I always preferred more fantastical takes like The First Men in the Moon. But there are certain movies that you respect on the grounds of their being pioneers in a genre, no matter how much better the acting, casting, filmmaking technique or special effects quality have improved over time. This is one of them.


The Son of Dr. Jekyll (1951) - Very fascinating take on the material is less about the monster portion of the story and more of an analysis of the fallout of Mr. Hyde's actions on society as a whole. I felt like this was an attack on sensationalist journalism--which we know is problematic in the UK, where the film is set--and the Court of Public Opinion. It speaks of a society whose members are willing to ruin a man's reputation and life in order to profit (even indirectly) from any given media circus.

Do we have that today? Does it represent the inherent "dark side" of the Freedom of the Press, similar to how Hate Speech represents the dark side of the Freedom of Speech?

It would be interesting to watch the 1920, 1931 or 1941 versions of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde and then follow it up with this one (taking some of the "retcons" in stride).

The Black Castle (1952) - This is another Universal Studios production, ranking down with Curuçu on the list of their more obscure horror efforts. I thought it was fairly enjoyable stuff; nothing great, but a decent way to spend 70 minutes.

Richard Greene plays Sir Ronald Burton, an 18th century military officer who has returned from a jaunt in West Africa. He heads over to the Black Forest in Germany to visit the evil Count Karl von Bruno, who might be responsible for the deaths of two of his colleagues. When we meet Von Bruno, we learn that his castle has a dungeon full of torture devices AND a crocodile pit. Surely an upstanding citizen.

Universal horror veterans Boris Karloff and Lon Chaney Jr. have supporting roles here. The former plays a doctor whose loyalties are uncertain. The latter plays the mute, hulking manservant of Count Von Bruno.


The Maze (1953) - Fascinating Gothic Horror film that feels like a hybrid between the Gothic Romances of the previous decade and the sci-fi/horror films of the 50s, while simultaneously being a stealth H.P. Lovecraft adaptation *and* a preparation for Roger Corman's "Poe Cycle." In some ways, the story plays out like a gender inversion of "Fall of the House of Usher" by way of "The Shuttered Room."

While enjoying his last days of being a bachelor in France, American playboy Gerald McTeam receives an urgent letter ordering him to report to his ancestral castle in Scotland. He leaves his fiancée, Kitty, and her aunt behind, promising them he'll back in a few days. A couple of months later, he sends Aunt Edith a letter informing her that he's breaking off his engagement to Kitty. The latter just knows that something is wrong and is determined to find out the truth. Just what will the two ladies uncover at the mysterious Craven Castle?

Director William Cameron Menzies (best known for Invaders from Mars) also handled the production design and the film looks good, with regards to the sets and lighting. He also had a good cinematographer on his side, too. I thought the acting was good all around and, like The Shining, the climax is set in a creepy hedge maze. Fans of classic horror and fantasy should check this out.

Creature from the Black Lagoon (1954) - One of the greatest original monsters of the 1950s and one of the greatest monster movies of that time period...probably staying in top 5 or 10 up through the 60s. The monster suit is an inspired creation--to those not in the know, it was developed by a woman, but a man took credit for it because...sexism.

It's interesting how this never got an official Universal remake. If the Dark Universe, which seemed to have had no fewer than THREE attempts to start it, had gone forward, apparently Scarlett Johanson would have donned the iconic white one-piece. And I'm not sure when the last time we got a Gill Man monster was. The 80s gave us HUMANOIDS FROM THE DEEP and THE MONSTER SQUAD. There was one in the 90s TV movie THE PRESENCE. I don't recall any Gill Man (ersatz or not) showing up afterward. I wonder if we'll ever get a new one.


THE CREEPING UNKNOWN (1955) - Influential British sci-fi horror film about a spaceship returning from an experimental flight somewhere past the exosphere. Two of the astronauts aboard have simply vanished--we later learn of their grisly fate--and one of them is alive, but been infected with an alien lifeform. He starts killing and absorbing other organisms (including people) all over London as he evolves more and more into a monster. Only Bernard Quatermass, the scientist who developed the rocket, can save the day before the creature reproduces and puts all of humanity at risk.

I had my dad tape this off TNT one evening (back when I had an enforced bedtime) and he enjoyed it a little more than he did Five Million Years to Earth, another Quatermass film. I think I was still a bit immature for a movie like this, in which I wanted lots of monster action all the time. Today, it's a lot more easier to enjoy, especially Brian Donlevy in the role of Bernard Quatermass, playing it with Nietzschian "I am science and thus above morality" that would serve Peter Cushing well when the latter took up the mantle of Dr. Frankenstein two years later.

Curuçu, Beast of the Amazon (1956) - Probably the least known of the Universal horror/monster movies, despite having enjoyed color photography and a decent budget (as opposed to Creature from the Black Lagoon, which was filmed in the Everglades, the crew actually went to Brazil for this). It probably has a lot to do with the title being a bait n' switch: it's not really a horror movie, but a jungle adventure film that moves the story from the usual Africa to Brazil.

The story is about a monster, named Curuçu by the locals, who is killing Indian/Native Brazilian workers on plantations built along the Amazon River. One of the plantation owners decides to travel up the Amazon to find the creature, and is accompanied by an American doctor (Beverly Garland), who wants to find head-shrinking powder to assist her in her cancer research.

Lots of nature footage, although instead of the usual lions, elephants, and savannah animals, we get caimans, anacondas, piranha, tarantulas, iguanas, peccaries and jaguars. As expected for a Hollywood film of this vintage, everybody in Brazil speaks English. When characters do speak Portuguese, the white guy says, "What dialect is that?" The acting is pretty dire--even the dependable Beverly Garland is awful here. The big twist suggests that M. Night Shyamalan watched this before penning The Village.


The Daughter of Dr. Jekyll (1957) - I did Son of Dr. Jekyll a few days ago, why not check up on what his daughter is up to? This was a odd little nugget of B-cinema that purports to be a follow-up to the Jekyll story, but then switches the monster up from "violent, immoral little goblin" to a mixture of vampire and lycanthrophy legends.

The titular daughter is Jane Smith (the lovely Gloria Talbott) who has showed up at her guardian's manor--her guardian being the good Dr. Loomis--with her new beau (John Agar) in tow. One of the hired hands instantly takes a disliking to her, convinced that she's destined to commit the same crimes as her father--whom we learn is the infamous Dr. Jekyll. When murders in the local village commence, Jane begins to wonder if the effects of Jekyll's drug are hereditary.

Genre veterans will probably figure out where the story is going early on (or at least by the halfway point), and the answer to the mystery is a bizarre one. One person's conjecture about the villain's motives not only explains the film's events, but negates everything we thought we knew about the original story!


The Snorkel (1958) - Suspense film produced by Hammer Studios in Britain, the same people that made a name for themselves rebooting (to an effect) the Universal Horror Line-Up from the 30s and 40s, but in color, with more blood and cleavage (and nudity, by the end of the 60s), and starring the likes of Michael Gough, Peter Cushing, and the late Venerated Horror Film Icon Sir Christopher Lee.

The film begins with a man murdering a woman and making it look like a suicide. The woman's daughter, Candy, thinks she knows who did it. However, she has no proof, considering that the murder took place in Italy and the person she suspects was in France at the time. Candy goes on a quest to prove that person's guilt, little knowing that her efforts may either land her in a mental hospital or worse, right in the killer's hands.

There is no mystery as to the killer's identity--or motives--rather, the entertainment is derived from watching Candy come across clues (sometimes without realizing it) and then we the viewer shake our fists at the TV because *we* know she's close, but she understandably doesn't. The ending comes in three parts--the first part is wickedly ironic; the second enters a morally-gray area you wouldn't expect from a film of this vintage; and finally the film ends in a way that would satisfy those stuffy British censors.


House on Haunted Hill (1958) - This was my Halloween tradition for several years before I went on my mission back in '01. My brother Anthony and I caught this on A&E one evening and had a blast watching it. That same year, my Aunt Sandy gave me the VHS as a Christmas present. I the made it a point to watch it every year on Halloween night. Last night I made Paula and Susan watch it, although the latter fell asleep early on.

An eccentric millionaire (Vincent Price) throws a "party" at a haunted house--the site of several murders over the past few decades--at his wife's behest, offering the guests 10 grand a piece (in 50s money!) if they can make it through the night. A few hours later, there have been enough strange occurrences (and a murder, to boot) to make one wonder if a) the place is really haunted or b) someone is trying to do in the guests. Classic fun for all!

The Monster of Piedras Blancas (1959) - I used to have this Creature from the Black Lagoon knock-off on VHS. I never revisited it as much as its inspiration, mainly because it went the pseudo-mystery route and kept the monster in the shadows until the final reel. CFTBL exploited its awesome monster design for all it was worth--did this film really need to play coy with the design?

At a small coastal town somewhere in Southern California, a series of strange murders has the residents in an uproar. The victims have been found with their heads severed clean off and bereft of all their blood. Despite the local constable's attempts to pass them off as an accident, some members of the town attribute it to a local monster legend. Perhaps the curmudgeonly lighthouse keeper, who is all yellng at the residents to stay away from certain areas of the coast, knows more than he's letting on.

This is a lurid little film by 1959 standards. NOBODY is safe, including pets and children. Moreover, it gives us a skinny dippy scene and implies that the main couple are having sex on the beach--after a make-out session cribbed from From Here to Eternity. The severed heads on display make this one of the goriest sci-fi/horror up to that point, certainly from Hollywood. I just wish they showed the monster more.


Black Sunday (1960) - Italian horror film by maestro Mario Bava, one of the most visually-creative minds in the genre. I've seen this before, but wanted to revisit it to jog the ol' memory.

The film tells the story of the evil Princess Asa of Moldavia (Barbara Steele--to quote Dumb and Dumber, I could eat her liver with some Bava beans and a nice bottle of Chianti...) who, along with her manservant, is put to death for not only witchcraft, but vampirism, too! Before she dies--via getting her face skewered with a spiked mask--she pronounces a curse upon her brother, the head inquisitioner in the affair. Two centuries later, both she and her manservant are revived and go about trying to eliminate the last of her brother's line.

The film is dripping with atmosphere, complete with expert use of smoke machines and lighting (even for a black-and-white movie). There are some graphic moments by 60s standards, and the film checks off both the "vampire" and "witch" boxes for my marathon.

The Innocents (1961) - Let's end this on a respectable note. Classic ghost story, based on "The Turn of the Screw," which was adapted a couple of years ago for Netflix as "The Haunting of Bly Manor."

A governess (Deborah Kerr) goes to a huge countryside manor to take care of a rich guy's orphaned nephew and niece so he can lead the good life in London without worrying about any sort of parental responsibility. Although the governess, Miss Giddens, initially gets along with the children, the starts to feel the presence of SOMETHING ELSE in the house. The more time she spends there, the more she suspects that there are malevolent spirits out to corrupt her wards. Or are there?

The film is expertly lit and photographed (it's also a black and white movie), and the performances are uniformly strong. It is a bit slow, however, so many modern viewers might have their patience tested. The finale is pretty gutsy, as far as I can tell, and I think most people will remember the final scene quite well.