Karloff at Columbia boxset
WITH his iconic performances in the likes of Frankenstein and The Mummy, Boris Karloff carved his name forever into horror movie history at Universal studios in the 1930s.
He made many other hugely successful if lesser known films in that same era, of course, and that's where a tidy new boxset from Eureka steps in. Karloff at Columbia gathers together the six films that the actor born plain old William Pratt made for that company in the 1930s and 40s – and quite the viewing experience it is too.
Unlike the horror films that first made the Karloff brand, these crisply shot no-nonsense little potboilers are short, sharp and snappy exercises in melodrama and science fiction. Cheaply made and all clocking in at little more than an hour in duration, these are hugely entertaining all the same and provide an insight into another, less appreciated side of the much loved character actor whose name is emblazoned proudly above the titles of everything on this boxset.
The first, and best, offering here is The Black Room, a seriously moody little Gothic chiller that sees Karloff take on a double role as twin brothers in 19th century Europe. One is a tyrant who rules with a rod of iron over the local villagers. The other is considerably nicer. He returns from abroad and tries to correct his brother's evil ways.
Director Roy William Neill milks the story for all it's worth, throwing in an ancient prophesy that tells of the younger brother killing his elder sibling in The Black Room of the title and a spate of local village women who've been bumped off in mysterious circumstances along the way. Karloff is, as always, sullenly brilliant throughout.
From there, it's headlong into the vastly successful cycle of so-called 'Mad Doctor' films. The Man They Could Not Hang sees Boris brazen it out as the clearly psychotic Dr Savaard, a man who has dedicated his career to bringing the dead back to life. A nasty little mystery thriller, it sets the tone for both The Man With Nine Lives and Before I Hang, which take in such sci-fi delights as 'frozen therapy' for the brain and an attempt to reverse the ageing process in humans.
The Devil Commands brings the franchise to a close with another tale of medical obsession straying into base criminality, but this time a supernatural vibe hangs over proceedings with mixed results. Karloff is, again, the best thing about these films and lurches through them like a condemned man unable to stop himself.
The final film is the weakest of the bunch. The Boogie Man Will Get You is a madly over the top parody of the previous four films: co-starring Peter Lorre, it boasts a scenery chomping turn from Karloff that is fascinating to watch even though a lot of the gags fall flat on their face.
Garnished with a selection of period radio dramas and a fine booklet this creaky but fun set of lesser seen Karloff gems is well worth making the effort for.
