Category: Directed by Lambert Hillyer

Dracula's Daughter (1936, Lambert Hillyer)

Dracula’s Daughter starts as a comedy. With Billy Bevan’s bumbling police constable, there’s nothing else to call it. Sure, the opening deals with the immediate aftermath of the original Dracula–returning Edward Van Sloan arrested for driving a stake through a man’s heart–but it’s all for smiles, if not laughs. Bevan’s terrified expressions carry the movie until it’s time for Gloria Holden to show up.

Holden plays the title role. She’s in England to dispose of her father’s remains and to paint (and to prey upon the living). She’s not happy about preying upon the living and Garrett Fort’s screenplay implies its all going to be about vampirism as a compulsion. Top-billed Otto Kruger ties everything together; he’s a society psychiatrist, trained by Van Sloan, who ends up defending his old teacher while taking an interest in Holden. She’s in society because her paintings? It’s unclear why anyone would invite her. Fort’s script isn’t good on narrative progression.

Holden thinks Kruger might be able to help her with the vampirism. She assumed her father’s death would help, but her man servant and familiar Irving Pichel convinces her otherwise. Pichel’s just around to encourage Holden’s bad habits. He definitely looks creepy, but he doesn’t treat her with any respect, much less fear. It creates a bit of a tonal imbalance–the vampire isn’t bad, the human encouraging her is bad–until Holden finally takes up the villain reins.

Once Holden and Pichel go after Nan Grey (who’s rather good in her small part), it’s clear the happy London society dalliances are soon to be over. See, Kruger’s her doctor too. And he’s going to get to the bottom of it. Can Holden convince him to join her–possibly replacing Pichel–in Transylvania before Kruger can dehypnotize Grey long enough to find out who attacked her?

It’d be a far more effective twist if Holden’s character were better developed (and established in the first place) and if director Hillyer didn’t direct Kruger like he’s always waiting to react to a punchline. Once the initial comedic stuff is over–though Scotland Yard man Gilbert Emery is mostly for laughs (including the film’s best ones)–Hillyer starts giving Kruger these close-ups where he’s just reacting to something or pensively smoking. I guess he needs to be doing something since he’s not figuring out Van Sloan’s not crazy and Holden’s got something weird going on.

Twenty-something Marguerite Churchill is quinquagenarian Kruger’s assistant. She’s an heiress or something so she gives him a lot of guff. She’s also, of course, enamored with him. Because why wouldn’t she be enamored with her fifty-year old boss. They don’t have any romantic chemistry, though occasionally Kruger does come off paternal. Too occasionally.

Churchill’s unprofessional jealousy of Holden eventually gets her in a lot of trouble, kicking off the final act, where Kruger’s got to fly to Transylvania to try to save the day. He doesn’t, as it turns out, because Fort’s script is goofy. I wonder if it had to contort itself through the Hays Code. Hopefully. At least contorting for the Code would provide an excuse.

The film’s got good sets and fine photography from George Robinson. Hillyer starts with some creepiness, but soon gives it up. Why the film should want to scare Bevan’s bumbling constable but not Churchill or Grey’s damsels is another of its mysteries. There are some excellent foggy London effects and some real mood with Holden, in her black wraps–though Holden’s costuming when she’s not a creature of the night is grey and drab.

Holden’s okay. The film’s failures aren’t her fault. They’re not Kruger’s fault either, but he’s so miscast after a while–and Hillyer’s direction of him is so awry–he gets tiring. Van Sloan’s fun for a while, but he too can’t survive. Churchill’s just annoying. Maybe it’s supposed to be the part.

Dracula’s Daughter is an almost solid production of a troubled script. It’s a bunch of ill-fitting pieces mashed together without success.

0/4ⓏⒺⓇⓄ

CREDITS

Directed by Lambert Hillyer; screenplay by Garrett Fort, based on a suggestion by David O. Selznick and a story by Bram Stoker; director of photography, George Robinson; edited by Milton Carruth; produced by E.M. Asher; released by Universal Pictures.

Starring Otto Kruger (Jeffrey Garth), Gloria Holden (Countess Marya Zaleska), Irving Pichel (Sandor), Edward Van Sloan (Professor Von Helsing), Marguerite Churchill (Janet), Gilbert Emery (Sir Basil Humphrey), Nan Grey (Lili), and Billy Bevan (Albert).

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Batman (1943, Lambert Hillyer)

For the majority of Batman’s fifteen chapters, the serial has a set formula when it comes to the action. Batman (Lewis Wilson) and Robin (Douglas Croft) get into fist fights with the same five or six thugs. Croft gets beat up early while Wilson takes on at least two of the villain, then two or three of the thugs beat up Wilson. They either put him in danger, triggering the chapter’s cliffhanger, or Croft just wakes up and helps him. Or, in the subsequent chapter’s resolution at the beginning, Croft wakes up and helps him.

Even on the rare occasions it’s something different, elements of the formula remain. Screenwriters Victor McLeod, Leslie Swabacker, and Harry L. Fraser don’t have much plotting ingenuity. Especially not for fifteen chapters. Other variations to the fight and cliffhanger formulas include whether or not Wilson abandons Croft to the thugs or, you know, whether or not Wilson kills someone. Sometimes he means to kill them, sometimes it’s incidental. The only time he ever stops to worry about it is when it’s bad guys–as opposed to when he kills an innocent civilian through his ineptitude–and, in that case, the bad guys turn out to be dead anyway.

Not much of a role model, this Batman, despite being an official government agent. Or, maybe, because of it.

In addition to Wilson’s careless crimefighting, he’s not really good at investigating. Despite fighting the same group of thugs throughout the serial–and even bringing some of them to his “Bat’s Cave” for rather ineffective interrogation–Batman doesn’t even discover his adversary’s identity until the final chapter. He’s dreadfully bad at his job.

The villain of Batman is J. Carrol Naish. He’s playing an evil Japanese scientist, in full yellowface. The serial is exceptionally racist. Even as wartime propaganda, Batman is a lot to take. The first chapter narration makes special mention of the just internment of Japanese Americans. It, and the way the serial’s heroes are, you know, heroic for their stupid ignorance when they meet Naish, is astoundingly gross. The racism does not, however, distract from the serial’s utter stupidity. Sometimes, though not with Naish’s thugs, it manages to be gross and stupid. Usually it’s just stupid, with occasional flakes of racism.

The worst part of it? Naish gives the best performance in the entire thing. Even though he’s a conniving villain, out to use a giant radium gun to wreck havoc (it’s actually entirely unimportant as the serial progresses), Naish gives the role a lot more characterization and personality than anyone else gives theirs’. He even figures out Batman’s secret identity at one point.

Besides Naish, the best performances are from Charles Middleton and William Austin. Middleton is a radium miner, which seems likes it’s going to be important in the middle chapters of the serial. It’s not, but it does at least give Batman a chance to get off the backlot and go on location in the mountains. Director Hillyer does a little better with those exteriors. He never does well, but he does do a little better there.

But Middleton’s not around for long and, even if he were, it’s doubtful the screenwriters would give him anything to do. Middleton as bearded, folksy mountain man brings energy to Batman, something the serial sorely lacks. Hillyer doesn’t direct the actors’ performances–at least, one hopes he doesn’t, because then it’d be even worse–and Wilson and Croft aren’t engaging. Croft even less than Wilson.

The one time Wilson and Croft do get energized is opposite Austin, who plays Alfred the butler. Austin drives Wilson and Croft around town most of the chapters, whether they’re crimefighting or not. Occasionally, he gets roped into helping them in the crimefighting, which is usually at least mildly amusing. Austin’s got fine comic timing. Timing is another thing Batman tends to lack. Editors Dwight Caldwell and Earl Turner are better than anyone else on the crew, but Hillyer’s a lousy director and James S. Brown Jr.’s photography is rarely competent. Lots of bad day for night in Batman. Lots.

Shirley Patterson plays Wilson’s love interest, who just can’t figure out why Batman is always around once Wilson leaves the room (or vice versa), and she’s got almost nothing to do. The serial treats her like an annoyance or a victim or a damsel in distress. Wilson usually just treats her like a pest, condescending or dismissing her. For a while, those moments are actually Wilson’s best as an actor. Until he puts on a fake nose and pretends to be a thug to get in with the gang. Shockingly enough, Wilson’s engaging during those scenes. It’s a downright treat when he skips the Batman costume for a chapter to (stupidly) investigate in his disguise.

Some of Naish’s thugs actually give decent performances–Robert Fiske the most, but also George J. Lewis and Warren Jackson. Competency helps a lot in Batman. There’s not much of it, so when someone isn’t terrible, it’s a big deal.

Sadly, Charles C. Wilson is atrocious as the moron police chief who occasionally pops up to answer Wilson’s questions about bad guys the Batman has apprehended. Even though Naish spends at least half the chapters assuming Batman has died (in the lame cliffhangers), he’s still too savvy to get taken down by the bumbling “heroes.”

The script has no character development, no character relationship development (it’s not like Wilson treats Patterson any differently as things go along, he always treats her like crap), it does nothing with Naish’s various schemes, just kills time. In the end, only the first two and last two chapters are relevant to the narrative. The rest could be chucked… if only we could be so lucky.

But we aren’t. And Batman trucks along, its best chapters never even registering mediocrity, Austin and Middleton’s contributions for naught, Naish’s relative success a debasement.

Though Lee Zahler does eventually get to some good music, albeit only in the last couple chapters.

Batman (1943) ch15 – The Doom of the Rising Sun

Titling the final chapter, The Doom of the Rising Sun, might give away whether or not J. Carrol Naish succeeds with his awful plan–which Batman never quite defines and sort of forgets about anyway. The screenwriters try to drum up some excitement as Lewis Wilson and Douglas Croft finally face off with Naish. It’s rather lackluster.

Oddly, even though the cliffhanger resolution is fairly predictable–just like the previous chapter forecasted–there’s enough built around the resolution to make the reveal nearly interesting. And it gives Croft and William Austin a decent moment.

Then Doom just turns into a rush for the finish. How fast can Austin get the cops, how fast can Wilson chase Naish, how fast can Wilson tie up the bad guys–the only time Batman and Robin prove competent in a fight and it’s the last chapter in the serial.

The last few minutes tie up plot threads from the first chapter. Nothing in between mattered much, apparently, and it goes out with Wilson being a jackass to Shirley Patterson again. It reminds why it was so nice for him to do something else for a while.

Technically, the finale doesn’t attempt much–all the action takes place on existing sets, using already introduced foils. Though it is maybe the first time Lee Zahler’s score is all right, even if it’s just momentarily.

The biggest letdown, besides Wilson’s Batman being just as much of a bigot as the narrator and the serial itself, is how little anything in between the first chapter and this final one mattered. The rest–almost ninety percent of Batman–was prattle.

Batman (1943) ch14 – The Executioner Strikes

The impossible occurs, one chapter until the finish, with The Executioner Strikes actually having a satisfying cliffhanger resolution. A somewhat satisfying one. Better than any of the others.

After that high point, unfortunately, the chapter gets pretty bad for a while. First, it’s dumb, with Lewis Wilson revealing himself to the bad guys without costume, then chasing them down in the car to attack them as Batman. William Austin drives the car the whole time, never in costume. Presumably, unless they’re going to be killed, these guys can identify Wilson as Batman.

And when Wilson, Austin, and Douglas Croft do catch up to them, it’s probably the worst fight scene in a Batman chapter so far. James S. Brown Jr.’s day for night photography is bad enough, but then Hillyer speeds up the film. What wacky antics.

Then it’s time for Shirley Patterson to come back in–she was brainwashed at the open–and for Wilson to fall into a trap he said he was expecting. There’s a lot of costumed Batman about town doing stunt work this chapter. Lots of derring-do.

If the cliffhanger resolution weren’t so predictably setup, it might actually be effective. Though maybe the energy of Batman almost being over just gives it more potential.

J. Carrol Naish is around quite a bit. Despite his entirely offensive performance, Naish does at least try to have some fun, which no one else manages.

Batman (1943) ch13 – Eight Steps Down

Despite the previous chapter suggesting a cliffhanger, turns out the resolution is more about Douglas Croft and William Austin’s impatience than anything else.

But as Batman is now seventy-some percent complete, things start happening in Eight Steps Down. Though nothing about eight steps. There’s a narrative jump between one part of Lewis Wilson and Croft investigating (in costume) and another, so maybe the eight steps are just supposed to be the implied distance they descended?

I guess Eight Steps Down sounds more thrilling than Almost Five Feet Down, but whatever.

J. Carrol Naish’s goons deliver Shirley Patterson to him and, no, it doesn’t turn out she’s any less of a bigot than the serial itself. He’s going to brainwash her to get her to write a letter to Wilson because Naish has decided he must be Batman.

Meanwhile, Wilson is actually doing some investigating and happens upon Naish’s underground layer. You know, the one apparently almost five feet below the surface.

The episode ends with an actual cliffhanger for Wilson and some ominous plot development for Patterson. It’s still clunky, but it’s probably the best Batman has ever been.

Batman (1943) ch12 – Embers of Evil

The chapter opens with Batman leaving some guy to get killed–it was hinted at in the cliffhanger, which resolves even more stupidly than I expected, but I sort of assumed Batman wasn’t going to get some guy killed.

Nope, he’s fine with it.

J. Carrol Naish gets more screen time this chapter than he has been lately, but he’s just plotting. Same goes for Shirley Patterson; she reappears in Batman so she can finally get held hostage. Or held hostage again. It’s hard to remember as she hasn’t been part of the serial in quite a while.

Lewis Wilson and Douglas Croft gets some lacking scenes out of costume before going to rescue Patterson. Maybe the funniest part of the chapter is when Wilson’s trying to find Patterson in a basement he and Croft presumably already searched.

I suppose there’s nothing too terrible about it technically, which is kind of a compliment. Though Batman doesn’t deserve many or, usually, any.

Batman (1943) ch11 – A Nipponese Trap

So, even though the title is A Nipponese Trap, there’s no trap in the chapter. Unless it’s when the bad guys bail out Lewis Wilson–in his thug disguise–so they can run him over. Except Douglas Croft and William Austin have already bailed him out, yet they don’t go to pick him up. The bad guys are there.

Screenwriters Victor McLeod, Leslie Swabacker, and Harry L. Fraser are really out of ideas for this one. Besides the pointless double bailout sequences, there’s also Austin repeating Wilson’s instructions to Croft, even though the viewer heard Wilson’s instructions. Sure, it gives Austin another few lines and he’s fun, but it’s another drag on the already dragging narrative.

The resolution to the cliffhanger is bad, as always, though it’s also revealed Wilson left Croft unconscious with five of the bad guys to run away. Batman’s really not good at the whole caped crusader thing; the screenwriters characterize him as a punch-happy tool.

Though it is nice for Wilson to get some scenes in his thug persona. He’s pretty funny in it.

And, sadly, the usually sturdy editors flop at the end–Dwight Caldwell and Earl Turner’s cuts setting up the cliffhanger reveal its resolution.

Oh, and the one big action set piece–a truck accident–obviously uses footage from something else. Worse, someone had the shockingly dumb idea of giving the non-action truck a distinct signage… which clearly doesn’t match the old footage.

It’s just inept at this point.

Batman (1943) ch10 – Flying Spies

And now Batman is back to the misleading chapter titles. There aren’t spies in Flying Spies, there’s only one spy on the plane.

After the laziest cliffhanger resolution in the series so far–and there have been some lazy ones–Lewis Wilson and Douglas Croft take a break from crimefighting (i.e. getting beat up by the same four thugs) to get new orders from Washington. Luckily, J. Carrol Naish is hiring new guys to intercept the plane, so Wilson throws on his makeup again.

The chapter sort of moves well–the logic pitfalls are many and frequent, but they don’t kill the pace. Director Hillyer even tries some camera movement in an establishing shot. That effort doesn’t last long, however, with the cliffhanger both familiar and utterly absurd.

At least the makeup gives Wilson something to do besides be a heel to Shirley Patterson (she’s around long enough for him to be a heel then exits).

Batman (1943) ch09 – The Sign of the Sphinx

Incredibly, Douglas Croft’s Robin doesn’t get beat up this chapter. Sure, Lewis Wilson still manages to get pummeled, but Croft makes it through without being incapacitated once. Well, except in the cliffhanger resolution and then only temporarily.

After quickly ridding themselves of Shirley Patterson–in a stunning display of callowness from Wilson (one has to be impressed with how enthusiastically he plays the heel, even it’s impossible for the narrative)–Wilson and Croft question captured gangster Ted Oliver.

Even though they’re playing a trick on Oliver to get information, Oliver’s defeated performance says about all there is to be said about Batman. Why bother.

However, then Wilson puts on some makeup to be a boxer looking for trouble and it’s actually all right. The concluding action scene, on docks and a ship, doesn’t have much in the way of good direction from Hillyer, but Dwight Caldwell and Earl Turner’s editing is decent.

Of course, they can’t do anything with the (as always) yawn-inducing cliffhanger.

Batman (1943) ch08 – Lured by Radium

Lured by Radium actually does refer to the content of the chapter. It’s almost getting to be a habit for Batman. Unfortunately, all the serial’s other bad habits are in play here.

The recap and resolution of the previous chapter takes a fifth of the runtime. Once again, boring resolution, but at least then Charles Middleton and Shirley Patterson show up. Middleton’s showing the bad guys his radium mine, Patterson drags Lewis Wilson and Douglas Croft out there to look for him. It’s in the mountains, which is a nice change from the backlot.

Director Hillyer doesn’t exactly excel on outdoor location, but he certainly does a little better.

Middleton has some nice moments, Patterson and William Austin almost have some nice moments. Everything else is about the same… down to how Wilson and Croft’s Batman and Robin fight goes. It’s particularly noticeable since the recap has their entire previous fight with the same choreography and plotting.

And then the cliffhanger’s kind of dangerous?

The one weird thing is how there’s a Native American character, who isn’t well-portrayed, but he’s still better portrayed than the gangsters. Batman’s racism apparently has layers.