I always forget awful films have always been made; I usually establish some arbitrary point in the mid-fifties when they started getting unwatchable. Then something like The Ape comes along and reminds me I need to set that point earlier.
The film’s based on a play, which must be a hoot considering how many different locations it moves from. Nigh loves to intercut one sequence with a glimpse of another, a technique he probably came up with for the film, but who knows… All of those intercuts are awful and jarring, much like the rest of Nigh’s direction. When he does manage to compose a mediocre shot it’s startling, because the rest of The Ape looks so bad, just looking normal is too much for it.
The story seems absurd, but I’m sure there are other low budget films with a similar one. A mad doctor lives in an otherwise innocent little town. They use a Western set for some of it, which fits since the sheriff (Henry Hall) walks around dressed up like a cowboy. The mad doctor—played by a terrible Boris Karloff, who’s almost unrecognizable due to a goofy hair style—thinks he’s found the cure for paralysis and he’s going to do anything to make sure he succeeds.
Anyway, the script’s awful. The dialogue sinks over and over. Especially with otherwise earnest young lovers Maris Wrixon and Gene O’Donnell.
The Ape stinks. One might feel bad for Karloff, but he’s so absent charm, it’s unlikely.
Directed by William Nigh; screenplay by Curt Siodmak and Richard Carroll, based on an adaptation by Siodmak and a play by Adam Shirk; director of photography, Harry Neumann; edited by Russell F. Schoengarth; music by Edward J. Kay; released by Monogram Pictures.
Starring Boris Karloff (Dr. Bernard Adrian), Maris Wrixon (Miss Frances Clifford), Gene O’Donnell (Danny Foster), Dorothy Vaughan (Mother Clifford), Gertrude Hoffman (Jane), Henry Hall (Sheriff Jeff Halliday) and Selmer Jackson (Dr. McNulty).