Paul Leni's last film after which he died from sepsis brought on by an infected tooth (seriously, go to your dentist), this is probably the first film in his Universal contract where he had real freedom after the large series of successes that had preceded it. Smaller in scale than his previous The Man Who Laughs and more than somewhat reminiscent of his first Universal feature, The Cat and the Canary, The Last Warning is a whodunit with a real sense of fun about its mystery and the movements through the plot without ever quite becoming a comedy. It stands on this razor's edge of tone and balances quite nicely, I think. It's not a great film, but it is a solidly fun one.
John Woodford, the actor whose theater shares his name, dies suddenly during a performance of the play The Snare when he grabs an electric lamp and dies instantly. It's a mystery that the police cannot solve, and the theater shuts down that very night for years.
Years later, the Bunce Brothers, Josiah (Burr McIntosh) and Robert (Mack Swain), reopen the theater under the supervision of Arthur McHugh (Montagu Love) who wants to do The Snare again with the same cast. McHugh is actually a police officer doing those sorts of weird, out-there investigations of a cold case that's going to get the culprit to reveal themselves out of guilt. I mean, it's nonsense, but it makes for some good melodramatics.
Anyway, the cast includes leading lady Doris (Laura La Plante), Richard (John Boles), and lothario Carleton (Roy D'Arcy). There's also the electrician Tommy (Slim Summerville) who points at every returning man and whispers that they're the one who killed Woodford, and the stage manager Mike (Bert Roach). They're all suspects, but the main focus falls on our leading lady and the man who loves her, Doris and Richard.
Things start going weird when people start seeing ghostly figures about as McHugh tries to organize rehearsals. There are messages hidden in the drawer with the scripts. There's a fire suppressant that gets uncorked just outside the room. There are power outages. It's all spooky and scary, and it's made all the worse by the fact that McHugh breaks into Woodford's old dressing room which has been shut up for the five years since the last show and discovers hidden passages leading to other parts of the theater, including Doris' dressing room.
The only way Robert can clear Doris' name given this evidence is to take up the role Woodford had been playing despite the warnings (including the titular last warning) at risk of his life. Okay, it's kind of dumb, but if Leni were taking it more seriously with less tongue in cheek that would be a problem, and this points to how Leni made his movies. It's this great combination of German Expressionism and a light touch that pushes the visuals into a greater camp direction. It's the combination that James Whale would continue later with things like The Old Dark House and Bride of Frankenstein in the sound era, a time that I am convinced Leni would have thrived in if he had just visited his dentist at some point in 1928.
So, it runs like minor, lightly comic Agatha Christie brought to the screen, and it kept me going for its brief runtime of about 80 minutes. I got Leni's playfulness in intertitles, interesting use of shadows and editing that sometimes replaced the use for actual sound (which, of course, the early-sound soundtrack makes somewhat redundant) and some campy performances from everyone. It's not high art, but it's playful fun.
I strongly suspect that if Leni had been given the early reins of the Universal Monster movies, like was reportedly the plan, he would have taken it in a similar direction as James Whale did. The early movies would be largely similar, but while I do enjoy films like Bride of Frankenstein, the camp feels amped up to a degree that takes me out. I like to think that Leni would have found a more delicate balance.
John Woodford, the actor whose theater shares his name, dies suddenly during a performance of the play The Snare when he grabs an electric lamp and dies instantly. It's a mystery that the police cannot solve, and the theater shuts down that very night for years.
Years later, the Bunce Brothers, Josiah (Burr McIntosh) and Robert (Mack Swain), reopen the theater under the supervision of Arthur McHugh (Montagu Love) who wants to do The Snare again with the same cast. McHugh is actually a police officer doing those sorts of weird, out-there investigations of a cold case that's going to get the culprit to reveal themselves out of guilt. I mean, it's nonsense, but it makes for some good melodramatics.
Anyway, the cast includes leading lady Doris (Laura La Plante), Richard (John Boles), and lothario Carleton (Roy D'Arcy). There's also the electrician Tommy (Slim Summerville) who points at every returning man and whispers that they're the one who killed Woodford, and the stage manager Mike (Bert Roach). They're all suspects, but the main focus falls on our leading lady and the man who loves her, Doris and Richard.
Things start going weird when people start seeing ghostly figures about as McHugh tries to organize rehearsals. There are messages hidden in the drawer with the scripts. There's a fire suppressant that gets uncorked just outside the room. There are power outages. It's all spooky and scary, and it's made all the worse by the fact that McHugh breaks into Woodford's old dressing room which has been shut up for the five years since the last show and discovers hidden passages leading to other parts of the theater, including Doris' dressing room.
The only way Robert can clear Doris' name given this evidence is to take up the role Woodford had been playing despite the warnings (including the titular last warning) at risk of his life. Okay, it's kind of dumb, but if Leni were taking it more seriously with less tongue in cheek that would be a problem, and this points to how Leni made his movies. It's this great combination of German Expressionism and a light touch that pushes the visuals into a greater camp direction. It's the combination that James Whale would continue later with things like The Old Dark House and Bride of Frankenstein in the sound era, a time that I am convinced Leni would have thrived in if he had just visited his dentist at some point in 1928.
So, it runs like minor, lightly comic Agatha Christie brought to the screen, and it kept me going for its brief runtime of about 80 minutes. I got Leni's playfulness in intertitles, interesting use of shadows and editing that sometimes replaced the use for actual sound (which, of course, the early-sound soundtrack makes somewhat redundant) and some campy performances from everyone. It's not high art, but it's playful fun.
I strongly suspect that if Leni had been given the early reins of the Universal Monster movies, like was reportedly the plan, he would have taken it in a similar direction as James Whale did. The early movies would be largely similar, but while I do enjoy films like Bride of Frankenstein, the camp feels amped up to a degree that takes me out. I like to think that Leni would have found a more delicate balance.