Having
allowed producer Val Lewton and director Jacques Tourneur to craft an
unexpectedly original horror tapestry with 1943’s I Walked with A Zombie, RKO promptly trampled upon it with the
muddy paws of crude comedy. It must have been hugely dispiriting for these
creative talents to see their studio disrespect the property (over which they
had no control) by making a dumb unofficial sequel with no regard for quality
or continuity. In fact the only shared elements connecting that film to Zombies on Broadway (1945) were the
fictional location and two of its cast in similar roles, neither of which were
handled as effectively as by Tourneur and Lewton. The addition of Bela Lugosi
does no favours for him either.
Former
Laurel and Hardy feature director Gordon Douglas, whom we last saw helming the
weak Gildersleeve’s Ghost (1944), was
put in charge of this silly quickie. The script was adapted by Lawrence Kimble
and Robert E. Kent from a short story by Robert Faber and Charles Newman -
beggaring belief that a total of four men worked on this.
The excuse
for voodoo ado here is the attempts by two knucklehead press agents to come up
with a real life zombie to promote the opening of the Zombie Hut nightclub
owned by New York ‘ex’-gangster Ace Miller. Jerry Miles and Mike Strager are
played by Wally Brown and Allan Carney, a sub-Abbott and Costello pairing who
certainly have energy to burn but also witless dialogue deserving of the same
fate. The collection of grey-fedora’d Central Casting wise-guys leaning on
them, led by Sheldon Leonard as Ace, leaves them in no doubt as to the cement
overshoe fitting awaiting them if they fail.
A quick
fact-finding mission to the museum hooks up these dumb-bells with balding
curator Professor Hopkins (Ian Wolfe whom we recently saw in 1944’s Murder in the Blue Room). He recommends
they travel to the Virgin Island of San Sebastien to meet with rumoured zombie
experimentalist Professor Paul Renault though with a caveat about his sanity:
“I don’t think he was crazy – not very crazy anyway”. Take a wild guess as to
who this will be.
Once on the
island Jerry and Mike are immediately greeted by the first inferior echo of I Walked with A Zombie with the
melodious calypso voice of Sir Lancelot. His lyrics perform the same Cassandra
warning as in the previous film - that if this dim-bulb duo are not careful:
“The chance to leave may come too late / And blood on de ground will mark their
fate”. Not the best tourist greeting to be sure and the only glimpse we have of
this dignified gentleman.
As so often
happens with Lugosi parts, we meet the Hungarian fallen star up to his neck in
lab paraphernalia at his castle ranting about his stymied world domination:
“How can the natives do vith their silly voodoo vot I cannot accomplish by
scientific means?” he bleats. His victims inconveniently keep returning to
post-zombification life and then a second death before he can get any
megalomaniac missionary work done. Lugosi is once more confined in the movie to
channelling his standard medical white-coated whack-job, albeit accessorising a
western tie to resemble a clinical Colonel Sanders.
Renault’s need
for secret recipe ingredients prompts the appearance of our other Lewton alumni
Darby Jones whose presence was so indelible as the eerily impassive zombie
Carre-Four striding through the cornfields. This time around, his entrance as
Renault’s entranced slave Kalaga is calibrated for credibility subtraction by
protruding from an unconvincing brick wall in a motor-assisted sliding coffin.
As with all the zombified actors in Broadway,
I would guess Jones’ glassy staring eyes were something like super-imposed half
ping-pong ball prosthetics over his closed eyelids. However the effect is
achieved it does give off a genuinely unsettling expression amongst the cast
members who undergo transformation. What helps less is an odd stiffness to his
physicality when walking in this film which looks artificial and unthreatening
rather than disturbing.
RKO’s
security in the field of musical comedy peeps out intermittently through the
film. Not only do we get a couple of song and dance numbers shoehorned into the
New York club scenes but there is an excuse for one to introduce the female
lead, the personable Anne Jeffreys as Jean La Danse. Jeffreys was a skilled
singer-dancer who never made it to A-features yet is known for playing love
interest Tess Trueheart in the Dick Tracy
films, one of which, Dick Tracy Vs Cueball,
we will discuss here when we come to 1947. Jean is a lively and spunky heroine,
not least due to her unerring accuracy with the knife-throwing built into her
act. Her character offers to help the metropolitan goons find their man in
return for safe passage off the island.
Amidst the
falling masonry of bad lines there are some frankly bizarre comedy misfires
such as in Jerry and Mike’s meeting with Renault. He is singularly unimpressed
by their name-dropping of Professor Hopkins – “I hate him!” – and his dismissal
of his man-servant Joseph’s cover story (Joseph Vitale) is a gag that goes off
like a bad egg. Claiming his research is to cure coconut blight:
“He said it
was a banana blight”.
“Oh Joseph
is colour-blind”.
Mike narrowly
manages to beat the audience into glassy-eyed stupefaction after he is kidnapped
by Kalaga and rendered into zombiedom by Renault. His unblinking, frog-like
stare genuinely does unnerve when combined with a fixed grin.
Lugosi must
have felt a rictus grin of his own forming with what is expected of him in this
farrago. At one low point he is forced to engage in a homicidal hide-and-seek with
a dagger in and out of his cabinet drawers in pursuit of a cheeky macaque
monkey. He does what he can to at least give value for money savouring the more
ghoulish absurdities; his explanation of Mike’s suspended animation state is a
big slice of ham with relish: “To put it more simply – he is a SAARMBIE!”
By the
climax, Renault is clubbed to death by Kalaga, freeing our zeroes to make it
back to New York and try to pass off Mike as the zombie publicity stunt on
opening night. Inevitably he suffers the same reversion to normal as all the
other victims, but Jean had the presence of mind to steal a syringe of Renault’s
serum. They
finish up solving the threat of Ace’s mob repercussions through the comeuppance
of turning him into his own zombie act – and not before time.
Needless to say, Zombies on Broadway is seriously bad ju-ju.
No comments:
Post a Comment