The Black Cat (1934)
Directed by Edgar G. Ulmer

Film Review

Such was the success of Dracula (1931) and Frankenstein (1931) that their lead actors, Bela Lugosi and Boris Karloff, were made instant stars, and the temptation to pair these two nascent icons of the horror genre was too great for Universal Pictures to resist.  The Black Cat was the first of seven on-screen pairings of Karloff and Lugosi and the film's enormous success (it was Universal's biggest hit of the year) ensured that further rematches were not long in coming.  In this classic good-versus-evil showdown, it is Lugosi who gets to play the good guy, locked in mortal combat with a terrifyingly evil Karloff.  No need for monster make-up here - both actors are as chilling as ever, each possessed with a demonic fury to destroy the other that makes them resemble ancient gods in some grand Wagnerian opera.

The Black Cat purports to have been inspired by Edgar Allan Poe's story of the same title, but in actual fact its only connection with Poe's work is the presence of the titular car as a malignant presence, one that sends Lugosi's ailurophobic character into a startling frenzy that is one of the milder terrors the film has in store for us.  The story was actually conceived by its director, Edgar G. Ulmer, who had made just one film in America prior to this, Damaged Lives (1933), a low budget film about venereal disease that proved to be phenomenally successful.  The critical and commercial success of The Black Cat ought to have launched Ulmer on a glittering career in Hollywood but the director became persona non grata almost immediately after he had finished work on it when he stole the wife of Carl Laemmle's nephew.  For most of his career, Ulmer was forced to make cheap films for the poorer studios, although he did occasionally live up to his early promise, with such films as The Strange Woman (1946).

Ulmer began his career in Germany before WWII and made his directing debut with the Siodmak brothers on Menschen am Sonntag (1929).  The Black Cat's striking expressionistic design probably owes something to the fact that Ulmer worked in the art department on films by F.W. Murnau and Fritz Lang, and it lends the film a very distinctive feel, quite different from Universal's other horror films of this time.  A dreamlike sense of unreality clings to the film, powerfully expressive of the poisonous derangement that has taken hold of the two protagonists.  There are some stark allusions to the First World War and the fetid spectre of the war hangs over the film as something grim and terrible.  The enduring impact of the conflict shows itself not only in the stifling angst-ridden mood of the piece, but also in Lugosi and Karloff's characters, two respectable professionals who have become twisted monsters - one consumed with a desire for revenge, the other a disciple of satanic evil.

Whilst it fits comfortably within Universal's run of expressionistic horror films, The Black Cat is clearly in an altogether different league, and with its allusions to such sordid themes as satanic worship, sexual perversion/repression, drugs abuse and live flaying, it is way ahead of its time.  The plot is virtually incomprehensible (thanks in part to the necessity to insert re-shoots of several scenes to make the film acceptable to the censors) and much of the dialogue is drowned out by the almost continuous soundtrack consisting of extracts of classic music.  Yet despite this it is one of the most stylish and compelling of Universal's horror films, a film that plays upon the psyche of the spectator like a nightmare induced by demonic forces and leaves a far deeper impression than you can account for.  By delving deep into our neuroses and stimulating the subconscious, The Black Cat awakens fears of the most primal kind and as you succumb to its strange, nocturnal charms, you can almost feel Death's cold hand brushing against your skin.

Film Synopsis

The writer Peter Alison and his wife Joan are travelling across Hungary on their honeymoon when their path crosses that of Dr Vitus Werdegast, an eminent psychiatrist.  The latter is on his way back home after spending the past fifteen years in a prison camp following the war.  He intends visiting an old friend of his, the distinguished Austrian architect Hjalmar Poelzig, at his house built on the ruins of the fort that he commanded during the war.  When their bus crashes, the Alisons are taken by Werdegast to Poelzig's stately residence, where they are offered a bed for the night.  It is by now clear that Werdegast hates Poelzig, blaming him not only for betraying his countrymen during the war, but also for the death of his beloved wife Karen and their unborn child.  Unbeknown to his guests, Poelzig has preserved Karen's body, along with those of several other dead women, and takes part in satanic rituals that involve human sacrifice.  Realising Poelzig's evil intentions for Joan, Werdegast challenges Poelzig to a game of chess, insisting that the Alisons be allowed to go free if he should win.  He loses the game...