“TREAT ALL SUPERNATURAL BEINGS WITH
RESPECT BUT KEEP AWAY FROM THEM” ~Confucius~ (from the opening credits)
In 1933, the producer/director team of the Halperin brothers reunited many of the team from the previous year’s White Zombie to produce what they hoped would
be an equally spooky follow-up success. Supernatural
proved a disappointment, mainly due to the amount of time it dwells on the pace-killing
languidity of high-society types instead of the rough, seedy energy of the more
energetic criminal fraternity.
This is
despite the rare casting of Carole Lombard in a non-comedic role. She began
acting in her teens in a series of Mack Sennett shorts where her gift for
comedy became her trademark. Paramount put her under contract, initially seeing
her as a dramatic actress (hence her appearance in this film), but after divorcing
her first high-profile husband William Powell in 1933, her turning point came
with the screwball comedy Twentieth
Century which set her on the path to fame and a genre she excelled in yet
limited her ambition. Her second marriage to Clark Gable was the love of his
life, and he is said to have never got over her shocking death from a plane
crash whilst promoting War Bonds in 1942. She was just 33 years of age and had
planned to aim for more serious parts in her career.
Supernatural is an odd vehicle for her, existing
as it does while the studio had not found her strengths. For the first two acts
of the movie she is a vaguely perplexed, beautiful cypher as Roma the twin
sister of John Courtney, from whom she inherits a great fortune when he dies
mysteriously.
Meanwhile, even more strange
goings-on are being unearthed. Dr Huston (a grave, stagey turn from an
otherwise excellent H.B. Warner) asks Willard Robertson’s Prison Warden if he
can be allowed to experiment on the body of Ruth Rogen, an unrepentant soon to
be executed serial murderer. Rogen is introduced to us with a fast, confident
montage of newspapers and incendiary quotes - “Men. I hate the whole breed!” - reminiscent of Velma Kelly in Chicago.
Huston sells
the down-to-earth Warden remarkably quickly on the idea that the evil dead may transfer
their essence to other living humans causing “frequently an epidemic of similar crimes”. As if this isn’t
macabre enough, look behind them through the window. Supposed to overlook the
courtyard, it shows eerily unconvincing back-projected footage of officers
patrolling endless lines of convicts, evoking the soulless drudgery of Orwell’s
1984. Huston is given permission to
blast Rogen’s corpse with “mitrogenic
rays” (which sound suspiciously like something Dr Zarkhov would concoct for
Flash Gordon) to prevent Rogen going a-roamin’. It doesn’t take much to convince
Rogen either since they lie to her with the scientific possibility she may gain
greater freedom in this proposed after-life. “If I could use my hands - just for a few minutes…”.
So far everyone
in the picture is working a self-serving angle. The most successful aspect of Supernatural is ironically in its grim
reality, that of the even dodgier conniving underworld of its two crooks. Paul
Bavian, played by Alan Dinehart, is an ex-lover of Rogen, a chiselling little fake
spiritualist – I’ll leave aside the debate about what other kind there might be
– with a handy side-line in sculpture and chemistry. He wants to worm his way
into a slice of the Courtney fortune by contacting Roma, masquerading as having
been visited by John astrally with a warning for her. Just as corrupt is his
alcoholic snooping land-lady (a flavoursome Beryl Mercer) who reads his letters
and blackmails him into making her a partner. She falls foul of his homicidal
side, scratched to death by a ring he wears impregnated with a fast horrific
powdered poison.
The engine
of the plot now idles into more or less neutral now as it habitually does each
time we focus on the wealthy set. Lombard is poised and elegant as Roma yet is
required to do little other than slightly furrow her brow at events for the
most part. A little interest is aroused when she opts to allow Bavian to
perform a séance at his place for her. She goes, accompanied by the welcome
cynicism of William Farnum, (probably the most vividly colourful
characterisation of the heroes on offer as the jovial gourmand Hammond who
manages Roma’s estate) and the less appealing second horror appearance of
Western stalwart Randolph Scott as Roma’s beau Grant – see my Murders in the Zoo review of 25/4 –
whose is merely needed to be dinner-suited romantic smoothness.
“The first of the vultures”, Hammond refers to Bavian.
Unbeknownst, his streetwise instincts make him a repeated target for Bavian’s
hidden agenda. In what turn out to be two séances, the used-clairvouyant
salesman points the finger of suspicion at him with amusing brevity as if
forging telegrams from the other side: “Hammond
wants your money. He murdered me. You are next”. He attempts to poison
Hammond with the ring – but an injection of occult influence is about to be far
more effective.
At last, in
this third act Lombard’s performance awakens from her gentle wafting as Rogen
takes her over, literally possessing Lombard’s acting into a greater level of
stirring femme fatale darkness. She speaks in a lower register and sexily
arches her eyebrows. You can feel the actress becoming more emotionally engaged
by the material as a bad girl. Who doesn’t like playing wicked? She toys with
Bavian and high-tails it to her yacht with him, followed in tepid pursuit by Grant
and Huston. It’s worth mentioning the frequency with which Bavian fingers his
ring (as it were) and the editing insert cuts to Rogen’s shadow-rimmed eyes.
They put one in mind of Bela Lugosi’s hokier screen moments. You wonder if
perhaps the Halperins tried to get Lugosi for the spiritualist role as he would
have enjoyed using his signature intensity and the part’s criminal slumming back
story to offset his usual urbanity.
Ultimately,
the spirit of John aids the good guys in returning Roma intact – just as events
were getting interesting - damn. He gave our heroes the clue to the yacht by
knocking over a model boat, and after Bavian hangs himself accidentally from
the lifeboat ropes in fleeing from the Rogen-rogue Roma, the spell upon her is
broken. Fancifully, as if in a Disney film, the ghostly dimension becomes a
benign one again as John blows open a magazine to hint at a Bermuda honeymoon
for the reunited couple.
Apparently Mother
Nature created rumblings of excitement during filming as the Long Beach
Earthquake struck. Sadly, the earth didn’t move at the box office and Supernatural was a resoundingly earthly
also-ran, eventually becoming its deserved home as the bottom half of double-bills.
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