The early 1930s was very much a transition period for cinema. Armed with the newly-adopted technology of "talking pictures" and not really knowing what to do with it, many filmmakers stumbled through the first years of the sound era, gradually finding their feet as more and more established and emerging talents demonstrated exactly what could be done with these advanced storytelling tools. 'Murders in the Rue Morgue (1932)' seems to be very much a product of this learning process, and the truth is that the film is marred horribly by poor acting, often-ludicrous dialogue, a shabbily-edited narrative structure and a giant gorilla that switches periodically between a man in a monkey-suit and a real chimpanzee. However, it would be unfair to attribute these problems solely to the era, as many filmmakers were at this time already creating memorable cinema: in terms of the horror genre, James Whale's 'Frankenstein (1931)' and 'The Invisible Man (1933)' both adapted from classic literature today remain remarkable pictures that have lost little of their intelligence and brilliance.
There are two avenues through which 'Murders in the Rue Morgue' retains a certain air of respectability. The cinematography of Karl Freund, a veteran of German Expressionism, makes the film, if little else, visually interesting, and the climactic rooftop chase is vaguely reminiscent of Robert Wiene's 'The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari (1920).' This sequence, not unexpectedly, also calls 'King Kong (1933)' to mind, and I wonder if Cooper and Schoedsack perhaps looked in the direction of this film as inspiration for their final act in New York. One of Freund's gloriously-inspired shots sees the movie camera attached to Sidney Fox's swing, as she oscillates back and forth while in conversation with her boyfriend; just like the virtuoso first-person perspective in Rouben Mamoulian's 'Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde (1931),' this single shot demonstrates an inventiveness uncommon in film-making prior to the 1940s. Without the restrictions of the Production Code, which wouldn't be actively enforced until 1934, Robert Florey sprinkles the story with some moments of unexpected violence, though Universal reportedly enacted their own form of censorship, removing around twenty minutes of footage.
The second component of the film that merits attention is certainly the acting of Hungarian Bela Lugosi, who had recently secured fame as the infamous Count in Tod Browning's 'Dracula (1931).' Though his performance isn't "great," as many have put it, his interpretation of Dr. Mirakle brims with a ghoulish enthusiasm for theatrics, and the overblown portrayal works well with Karl Freund's exaggerated visuals. Lugosi does his very best to maintain our interest in the film, but most of the remaining actors appear to be actively working against him: Leon Ames (credited as Leon Waycoff) is mostly unconvincing in his role as the heroic medical student turned sleuth, and Bert Roach is almost painfully inadequate as the "comic relief" sidekick. Not much is demanded of actress Sidney Fox, but she is suitably pretty and vulnerable to fit the bill, and I did enjoy D'Arcy Corrigan as the gruesome and corrupt morgue-keeper. Charles Gemora, who built an entire career from making a monkey of himself, plays Erik the Gorilla; apparently Universal's orangutans were in short supply.
There are two avenues through which 'Murders in the Rue Morgue' retains a certain air of respectability. The cinematography of Karl Freund, a veteran of German Expressionism, makes the film, if little else, visually interesting, and the climactic rooftop chase is vaguely reminiscent of Robert Wiene's 'The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari (1920).' This sequence, not unexpectedly, also calls 'King Kong (1933)' to mind, and I wonder if Cooper and Schoedsack perhaps looked in the direction of this film as inspiration for their final act in New York. One of Freund's gloriously-inspired shots sees the movie camera attached to Sidney Fox's swing, as she oscillates back and forth while in conversation with her boyfriend; just like the virtuoso first-person perspective in Rouben Mamoulian's 'Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde (1931),' this single shot demonstrates an inventiveness uncommon in film-making prior to the 1940s. Without the restrictions of the Production Code, which wouldn't be actively enforced until 1934, Robert Florey sprinkles the story with some moments of unexpected violence, though Universal reportedly enacted their own form of censorship, removing around twenty minutes of footage.
The second component of the film that merits attention is certainly the acting of Hungarian Bela Lugosi, who had recently secured fame as the infamous Count in Tod Browning's 'Dracula (1931).' Though his performance isn't "great," as many have put it, his interpretation of Dr. Mirakle brims with a ghoulish enthusiasm for theatrics, and the overblown portrayal works well with Karl Freund's exaggerated visuals. Lugosi does his very best to maintain our interest in the film, but most of the remaining actors appear to be actively working against him: Leon Ames (credited as Leon Waycoff) is mostly unconvincing in his role as the heroic medical student turned sleuth, and Bert Roach is almost painfully inadequate as the "comic relief" sidekick. Not much is demanded of actress Sidney Fox, but she is suitably pretty and vulnerable to fit the bill, and I did enjoy D'Arcy Corrigan as the gruesome and corrupt morgue-keeper. Charles Gemora, who built an entire career from making a monkey of himself, plays Erik the Gorilla; apparently Universal's orangutans were in short supply.