Boo Jr #1939The MiracleYear

1939 The Miracle Year Boo Jr

You got to hand it to Variety for their eye-catching and funny headlines, titles, and phrasing. They christened ‘The Son of Frankenstein” with the moniker – BOO, JR which at once encapsulated and entertained.

In its January 4 edition, it announced:

“Boo, Jr.
Hollywood Jan 1 [1939]

‘Son of Frankenstein’ completed Saturday (31) at Universal, goes into national release Jan
13 with heavier advance bookings than any other U feature.
Cutters kept pace with the shooting schedule to speed up the distribution.”

There is an excellent reason that Universal garnered “heavier advance bookings” than usual. Back in the spring and summer of 1938, when a dearth of product hit the theaters, an enterprising theater manager (Emil Uman at the Regina Theater in Beverly Hills) put together a triple bill of older films for his venue.

The unspooling of “Dracula,” “Frankenstein,” and “Son of Kong” caused the cops to be called out to control the crowds. Word spread and soon other theaters were looking to book the reissues. Universal gladly offered their titles “Dracula” and “Frankenstein,” as a stand alone double bill (Kong, both original and Son were RKO properties – I’m sure Universal did not want to share the film rentals). And the crowds – and the cops – were repeated – from San Francisco to Boston. Initial short bookings were held over, in some instances, multiple weeks (Philadelphia ran seven).  St Louis packed in over 34,000 people in the first three days.

Such business was a bellwether indication that the horror genre was ready for a new installment. Thus, Universal decided to take the money coming in from the revivals and make a sequel. By October 1938 they were negotiating for talent. Boris Karloff took another turn in the monster role; and Bela Lugosi lurked menacingly as the murderous deranged cripple. Willis Cooper, a writer for radio horror programs and three Mr Moto films at Fox, was tapped for the scripting chores. By the 18th the cameras were turning, but not without a few hiccups. No director was listed for the first day of shooting (a role filled soon after by Rowland V Lee), and a principal actor (Peter Lorre) announced for the title roll dropped out. He was replaced on the 24th by Basil Rathbone.

It was given an ‘A’ picture status – better production values, sets, costumes etc., and shoehorned into the few available soundstages at Universal. (Their ‘B’ lineup, judged to be ahead of schedule for upcoming release, caused others of the same designation to be put on hold, freeing up stage space for the ‘A’s). Another ‘A’ production at Universal at the same time was the W. C. Fields vehicle, “You Can’t Cheat an Honest Man.”

I recently watched the film online and enjoyed it despite its predictability and formulaic writing. The atmosphere was fittingly dark and foreboding. And it wasn’t too far along when I realized that Mel Brooks must have used the plot as a template for his “Young Frankenstein.” Here too the son of the monster creator was returning to the scene of his father’s ‘crime.’ The clincher was the local police inspector, played by Lionel Atwill. The character sports an artificial arm, which Kenneth Mars spoofs in Brooks’ version.  The only thing is, Mars wasn’t all that far off of what Atwill had done in his characterization, even down to using the wooden arm when striking a light and while using darts.

A viewing is worthwhile just for the comparison.


The Dark Side of Imagination

Dracula green

But imagination has a dark side too.
In our room we assembled model kits.  My brother liked to do cars.  I did ships and other things that I’ll get to in a minute.
My ships were small and historical.  And I believe they snapped together rather than using glue. The first was the Santa Maria, the flagship of Christopher Columbus.  The other was the US frigate Constitution, a  thorough going man’o’war.  Both had sails which you had to cut out before completing the assembly and each came with a little stand and plaque upon which they were mounted before they joined my microscope and telescope on my desk by the window.  The boxes they came in proved handy as the treasure boxes for my prized bubblegum card collection.
Then the Aurora model company came out with a series based on movie characters – monster movie characters. My brother got Frankenstein, based on the Boris Karloff version.  I selected Count Dracula, modeled after Bela Lugosi.
Their Universal films were now on television. I found them interesting, but a little bit tame, though to be fair, they were probably cut up for that venue. I confess that I did find the Hammer films, brand new at this time, in which Peter Cushing and Christopher Lee battled it out, more than a little frightening.
But I could leave them behind.  This ashen faced Count in his red-lined black cape set off by an eerie green glow was now resident on my desk. And had the power to keep my imagination churning at night. There were times when I turned him around or moved him to the floor. Not that I would tell anyone about it.
I remember having a bout of déjà vu years later upon reading Salem’s Lot. The mention of similar models and the use of the name Ralphie for one of the characters made it resonate at a deeper level with me.  Who was this Stephen King? And how did he know what went on in my room at night?
And had he met Albert?
Dracula back to