Retro Review: Abbott & Costello Meet Frankenstein (1948)

“You don’t understand—in a half hour the moon will rise, and I’ll turn into a wolf…”

“You and 20 million other guys.”

There are the great horror films, and there are the great comedies. But great horror comedies? Films that work equally well as both, and can scare you and make you laugh in equal measure? Few and far between. Possibly the first really great one, and for many still the best, would be the 1948 timeless classic Abbott & Costello Meet Frankenstein. All these decades later, and it can still leave us in stitches, while delivering a healthy dose of authentic Universal monster madness. The fact that this movie even happened both was and is a gift to movie fans of all ages.

By 1948, both Abbott & Costello and the Universal monsters, two cash cow franchises for the legendary studio, were sort of on the ropes. Bud and Lou had made their name at the studio during the war years, but the act was starting to wear thin with audiences. As for Dracula, Frankenstein and the gang, they were far removed from their halcyon days of the 1930s and early ‘40s, having been reduced to flimsy team-up flicks for kids.

So what did the powers-that-be at Universal decide to do, but cross the two franchises, in one of the most inspired movie mashups ever conceived. Lon Chaney Jr. may have later condemned the film as the death knell of the classic monsters, but the hindsight of film history has revealed it as a beloved gem that, rather than tarnish the reputation of the monsters, has kept their legacy alive for generations.

In short, Abbott & Costello Meet Frankenstein is the perfect “gateway movie” for getting children into horror. I should know; I used it in exactly that way for my own kids. It’s hilariously funny on a level that can be appreciated by people of all ages, and the creep factor is there in copious amounts, especially for young children not too familiar with horror in general. It causes chills and laughter in equal measure, as we watch Bud and Lou mix it up with some very scary individuals.

In the end, that’s what makes the movie work so well. Neither franchise is compromising its integrity. Abbott & Costello are doing what they do best, getting into ridiculous situations and doing the whole straight man/childish fat guy routine. In fact, this film is probably their funniest moment, in a movie career that spanned nearly two decades. As for the Universal monsters, they are playing themselves here. There’s no campy hamming-it-up going on. Although Bela Lugosi’s Dracula may feel a bit different than his 1931 interpretation, he is playing Dracula to the hilt—just as Glenn Strange is playing the Monster, and most impeccably, Lon Chaney Jr. is playing Larry Talbot. I defy you to find any difference between the Talbot here and in any of his previous appearances. There is no “winking at the camera” on the part of him, Lugosi or Strange.

The perfect blend of horror and comedy make this, for my money, one of the most downright fun movies ever made. There are so many unforgettable set pieces here—particularly the predicaments the hapless Lou constantly finds himself in; from accidentally sitting in the Monster’s lap, to the scene in Talbot’s hotel room with the fruit bowl. And of course, the scene most people remember from this movie, in which Lou first encounters Dracula at the House of Horrors, all the while trying breathlessly to explain it to an incredulous Bud. This is effortless, timeless comedy from two masters, and best of all, is so true to the material that you can honestly imagine that this is what would happen if Abbott & Costello were to encounter Frankenstein, Dracula and the Wolf Man.

Costello cracked up Strange so much during this
scene that it had to be shot numerous times.

We get Lugosi in his only other film appearance as Dracula after his first iconic turn in 1931. That alone is enough to recommend the film! We get an excellent score from Frank Skinner—so good, in fact, that it would be lifted outright for future A&C movie installments. We get a rip-roaring monster-laden finale that is the perfect payoff for all the insanity that has come before. And, at the risk of “spoiling” a 65-year-old movie, we get an unforgettable final-shot cameo by Vincent Price as the voice of the Invisible Man! What more can you possibly ask for?

Abbott & Costello Meet Frankenstein succeeded in redefining both franchises. Going forward, the A&C series continued trying to recapture the new formula. The series took on a decidedly fantastical slant that was very different from the releases of the early ‘40s, pairing the comedy duo up with other monsters and villains like the Mummy, Dr. Jekyll & Mr. Hyde, and even “The Killer, Boris Karloff”. It may have been a gimmick, but it was a gimmick that kept the act going for nearly another decade. As for the Universal monsters themselves, this film became their last appearance for the studio. But it needs to be said that it also reinvented them for a whole new generation of young moviegoers, and helped give rise to the kitschy “Monster Kid” culture of the ‘50s, ‘60s and beyond, raising the studio’s creations to the level of pop culture gods.

Personally, the film brings me back to those lazy Sunday afternoons of my youth, spent with family, food and syndicated New York television. If you’re a fan of classic horror, I encourage you to check it out. Particularly, this movie is a joy to watch with young children. If you don’t have your own, go and steal someone else’s—it’s worth it. I screened it at one of my kids’ Halloween parties, and few sights in my memory will ever match the sight of a room full of initially skeptical 7-10 year olds, falling out of their seats with laughter and yelling at the screen in comic frustration. 

I’m so glad the world of Abbott & Costello and the Universal monsters crossed paths, and I enjoy revisiting it whenever I can. Give it a try, and I think you’ll be hooked as well.

And if you ever wanted to catch this gem on the big screen, then you’re in luck! I’ll be screening it on Thursday, December 27, as part of my BEDLAM AT THE BIJOU series at Bridgeport’s Bijou Theatre. I hope you’ll join me for BEDLAM AT THE BIJOU: Scared Silly, in which I’ll be pairing this movie up with another classic Universal-themed comedy, Young Frankenstein. Check out the Facebook page for more info, or the official Bijou website!

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Retro Review: The Evil of Frankenstein (1964)

I pride myself on being a great fan, admirer and aficionado of Hammer horror--in a lot of ways superior to Universal, if I may be so bold (although that's a debate for a future post). Ever since I was a child, I've been entranced by the technicolor blood, buxom wenches, uproarious scores and quaint period designs of the Hammer classics. And yet, one which I had never before seen was Freddy Francis' The Evil of Frankenstein, a 1964 chestnut which was the third of six films made in Hammer's Frankenstein series.

It's included on Universal's Hammer box set, which I've had for a number of years now and also includes such gems as The Curse of the Werewolf and Kiss of the Vampire. Yet, this particular one I had never seen before, although I had always wanted to. And over the Thanksgiving weekend, I finally took the opportunity. Although not the best of the Hammer series, and certainly not the best Frankenstein-inspired motion picture, I'm glad I took the time.

One of the reasons I had always been drawn to seeing this film is that it was a bit of a departure from the rest of the studio's Frankenstein franchise. Starting with The Curse of Frankenstein in 1957, Hammer had made it a point to reinvent the classic monster series, without relying on the elements that had made the Universal entries of the 1930s and 1940s so iconic. However, although part of the reason for this was undoubtedly creative innovation, another part was also legal necessity, as Hammer could not infringe upon Universal's intellectual property.

That changed with The Evil of Frankenstein, however. Whereas the previous two films, Curse of and Revenge of, had been distributed in the United States by Warner Bros. and Columbia Pictures, respectively, the third entry was actually picked up for distribution by Universal Studios itself, which meant that for the first time, Hammer had carte blanche to rely upon the devices used previously in Universal's own Frankenstein series. And so, the classic Jack Pierce monster design could be used, and the recognizable laboratory sets could be duplicated.

While an interesting notion, the result is a mixed bag. It's fascinating to see Hammer take a crack at the Universal approach, but in the end, what made Hammer's efforts so memorable is that the studio always strove to make its own mark rather than ape someone else's work. As it is, old reliable Hammer makeup man Roy Ashton is just not in his element trying to tread in the footsteps of Jack Pierce. What we get here is a second-rate copy of the traditional Boris Karloff square-headed, platform-shoe wearing Creature, here played by legendary New Zealand wrestler Kiwi Kingston, whose zombie-like performance can only conjure up a fraction of the pathos even Glenn Strange put forth in the Universal days, let alone Karloff. Similarly, Hammer art director Don Mingaye's sets are lush and intriguing as always, but are only doing what Charles D. Hall's revolutionary work did for Universal some thirty years prior.

The plot follows the trail of Dr. Frankenstein and his assistant Hans, as they attempt to put their financial situation back on track so the doctor can return to his life's work of reanimating the dead. When he returns to his ancestral home in the village of Karlstaad, he inexplicably discovers his original creation buried in ice underneath his property. Equally inexplicable is the fact that the Creature now looks nothing like the Christopher Lee version from the original, and instead suddenly resembles the Creature of the Universal Frankenstein series. The origin of the Creature is also retold in flashback, once again retconned to more resemble the Colin Clive/Boris Karloff origin sequence of the 1931 film. It's worth noting, however, that this is the only Hammer Frankenstein film other than the original to feature the actual Frankenstein monster--but it's also obvious that this was only done to take advantage of the license granted the studio by Universal.

Still, as with any Hammer production, there is a lot to recommend the film. Peter Cushing is excellent as always as the good Dr. Frankenstein, and I'll submit that his interpretation is probably the most textured, complex and compelling of anyone who has ever tackled the role. The great Peter Woodthorpe, known to many as the voice of Gollum in both the landmark BBC Lord of the Rings radio adaptation as well as the Ralph Bakshi animated version, is a delight as the alcoholic, unscrupulous carnival hypnotist Prof. Zoltan, the film's lead heavy. Studio head Anthony Hinds, writing as he typically did under the pen name John Elder, turns in a taut script that is up to snuff with his work on such favorites as The Brides of Dracula, Night Creatures and The Reptile.

The picture probably could have benefited from the directorial leadership of Hammer standby Terence Fisher, who was set to helm the film before being injured in a car accident. In his place, the project as handed over to his cameraman Freddy Francis. Francis had previously directed minor Hammer faves Paranoiac and Nightmare, and was far from a tested commodity when he took on The Evil of Frankenstein. He would go on to direct other minor Hammer pictures, with his most notable work being Dracula Has Risen from the Grave, and his best known film would have to be Amicus Pictures' 1973 adaptation of Tales from the Crypt.

As a die-hard Hammer fan, I will always welcome the chance to curl up on a dark night with one of their evocative, atmospheric and intense films, no matter if its one of their very best or a lesser-known effort. There's no doubt the original Curse of Frankenstein is the high watermark of Hammer horror, and The Evil of Frankenstein is but a shadow of that film. An enjoyable shadow, but a shadow nonetheless. Hammer still put out a horror flick well worth seeing, but the bottom line is that the studio made its name by charting its own course in horror, not following someone else's lead. The Evil of Frankenstein is an interesting experiment, if an ill-advised one.

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The Many Faces of the Frankenstein Monster

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