The Devil-Doll
       
Director: Tod Browning
Year: 1936
Rating: 8.0
The 1930s were such a wonderful time for horror films. An explosion of them from the Universal films to RKO and King Kong, Paramount with Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, Island of Lost Souls, Warner Brothers with Mystery of the Wax Museum and MGM with Freaks, Mad Love and this lovely film, The Devil-Doll. And it was the time of horror stars with Karloff, Lugosi, Lorre, Atwill and the Scream Queens such as Fay Wray. One of the premier directors of the genre was Tod Browning. In the silent period he had collaborated with Lon Chaney in a few classic horror films - some sadly lost - and then when sound came along, he directed Dracula, Freaks, Mark of the Vampire and this film. This did poorly at the box-office and it was to be Browning's last film but one, Miracles for Sale in 1939 - and then for more than 20-years he lived as a recluse. This might not match up to the weirdness of Freaks or the iconic coolness of Dracula, but in its own peculiar way it is rather wonderful and surprisingly sweet.  



Chaney had died in 1930 and so Browning got Lugosi for Dracula and Lionel Barrymore for Mark of the Vampire. Barrymore was one of the greatest actors of his generation, now mainly known as Mr. Potter in It's a Wonderful Life. But he has credits going back to 1905 and he and his brother, John, were big-name actors. But by 1936 he was nearly 60-years old and had moved into character roles and so the opportunity to be lead in this film must have felt good and hell, he at least deserved a nomination for Best Actor or perhaps Best Actress. He spends nearly the entire film in drag impersonating an elderly lady and he is great.



Based on the 1932 novel, Burn Witch Burn, I would put this down as horror though some might disagree and would throw it into sci-fi or crime. There are two set-pieces that sent chills up my leg - but then so did Darby O'Gill at times. Maybe small people - very small - are a phobia of mine and I don't know it. Barrymore plays Paul Lavond, a banker set up by three colleagues to take the fall for embezzlement and has been in prison for 17-years in a tropical island - perhaps Devil Island. He escapes with Marcel, another inmate and they make it to Marcel's home where his wife Malita (Rafaela Ottiano) is waiting for him with all of his laboratory equipment. Because Marcel has a humanitarian dream to solve the over-population of the world. His idea is simple. Reduce our size to about ten-inches high and there will be food for all! Wonderful idea with perhaps a few flaws -such as cats and dogs, an infrastructure much too large for us and food sources that would be unmanageable - but it is a great dream.



After showing Paul that it works with dogs and their maid, Lachna, he dies from a heart-attack. Paul learns that he can command the reduced creatures with his mind and an idea begins percolating in his brain. A perverse idea. When he has two miniature people, they perform the Apache dance of all things. One gets thrown off the table. Take all this along with Malita to Paris and get revenge against the three who framed him. He also wants to see his daughter, played by the sublime Maureen O'Sullivan, who hates her father thinking he is guilty of the crimes. To disguise himself, he takes on the appearance of an old lady who owns a doll shop. Nice dolls. Warm to the touch.



He is able to get them into the homes of two of the men and command them from outside to do evil deeds. The scenes are done wonderfully well. But the film has a heart which makes it special. He loves his daughter very much and this is all for her, so his name can be cleared and she can marry with no shame. The final scene is touching but not in the way you might expect.  Ottiano as Malita should be a horror icon - with her streak of white hair as a nod to Bride of Frankenstein and her frightening glares of insanity. This only runs 78-minutes but is top quality with a great cast, terrific special effects for its time, a score from Franz Waxman and a partial writing credit to Erich Von Stroheim.