The Old Dark House (1932)
Directed by James Whale

Film Review

Even though Frankenstein (1931) had been a phenomenal success, its director James Whale was reluctant to make a return visit to Gothic horror, evidenced by the four year hiatus before the powers that be at Universal persuaded him to make Bride of Frankenstein (1935).  Between these two landmarks in the horror genre, Whale made two other excursions into expressionistic horror, The Old Dark House (1932) and The Invisible Man (1933), the first of which established a format that was readily imitated and soon became one of cinema's most over-used and recognisable clichés.

It is important to note that James Whale did not invent the 'old dark house' idea; it had been around since the early years of silent cinema and existed in theatre and literature before then.  The most famous silent film to exploit the concept was Paul Leni's The Cat and the Canary (1927), which was the main source of inspiration for Whale's film, a similarly atmospheric black comedy in which thrills and laughs are skilfully entwined.  The 'old dark house' scenario would have been sufficiently familiar to audiences of the early 1930s for them to appreciate Whale's far from subtle send-up of it.  Loosely adapted from J. B. Priestley's 1927 novel Benighted, Whale's film has a sophistication that almost all subsequent ODH spoofs lack.  The characters are richly drawn and frighteningly ambiguous, and the humour is often downplayed to the point that you can never be entirely sure whether to laugh out loud or shiver in silence.  This is one of creepiest black comedies of them all.

By this time, thanks to his iconic portrayal of Frankenstein's monster, the English actor Boris Karloff had become a major star, so it was fitting that he should receive top billing (for the first time in his career) in his second James Whale film.  Regrettably, the film doesn't really give Karloff much to do, other than look suitably menacing in the background.  Much more scary is Charles Laughton as a Pinteresque Yorkshire businessman - he evokes far more fear and, in an ensemble which is not short of freakish eccentrics, is the most terrifying thing on offer.  Coming a close second in the creepy-as-Hell stakes are Ernest Thesiger and Eva Moore, who make a marvellous double act as the unimaginably peculiar Femm siblings.  Like a pair of sinister clowns, these two ooze menace with every utterance but somehow become funnier and funnier as the film progresses.  Unable to find a male actor old enough to play the bed-ridden patriarch, Whale ended up casting a woman, Elspeth Dudgeon, here credited as John Dudgeon - another one who looks ripe for carting off to the mad house. 

Surprisingly, given its long-standing influence and the high regard in which it is now held, The Old Dark House was not a great success on its first release in America, although it was popular in Whale's native England.  For many years the film was thought to have been lost, its reputation as a Gothic masterpiece hinging on a few dramatic stills (which are far more frightening than the film itself).  In the 1960s, Whale's friend Curtis Harrington finally located the film negative in Universal's poorly maintained vaults and had it restored.

The Old Dark House may be overshadowed by its director's more celebrated ventures into the fantasy-horror genre but it deserves consideration as one of Whale's great achievements.  It may be far more stagy than Whale's other horror films (most of the action takes place on one central set) but it is just as atmospherically photographed and just as compelling.  The beautiful expressionistic lighting and unceasing clamour of a raging storm load every scene with a menace so tangible that you can almost feel it on your skin, and the dialogue is superior to any horror film of this era.  The thrills are nowhere near as sensational and gory as became de rigueur in later visits to the 'old dark house' but there is still plenty to chill the blood, and even more to make you laugh.  The film's best line?  After Karloff mumbles something totally incomprehensible, "Even Welsh ought not to sound like that."  Gwych gwaedlyd.

Film Synopsis

Philip and Margaret Waverton are on their way to Shrewsbury by car with war veteran Roger Penderel when they are caught in a violent rainstorm.  Narrowly surviving a landslide in a remote corner of Wales, they arrive at an isolated old house where they hope to spend the night.  The house's owners, Horace and Rebecca Femm, give them a cool reception but agree to let them stay until the storm has passed.  As dinner is being served, the Femms have a second unwelcome intrusion, from business tycoon Sir William Porterhouse and his floozy Gladys DuCane Perkins.  The women are unnerved by the sight of the Femms' brutish butler, a mute named Morgan, but something even nastier lurks in their midst.  Behind a locked door in an upstairs room there is a horror that not even the Femms can face...