Archive for Rondo Hatton

Rondo Hatton Investigates

Posted in FILM with tags , , , , , on July 23, 2013 by dcairns

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I was excited to read a description of Rondo Hatton, disfigured horror movie star of the 40s, as a “former reporter.” In fact, he’s usually described as a sports writer (he was a high school football star before the acromegaly kicked in) but the idea of investigative journalism resonated.

I’d like to put Hatton in a crime/espionage drama. Make it the early forties — the unhealthy B-movie star tracks a clue leading him to a gang of fifth columnists — maybe the guys who, according to Orson Welles, shot Carole Lombard out of the skies. This is the trouble with most of my movie ideas — I live in a mental space where a movie about a disfigured B-movie star snapping Nazis’ spines sounds like a Major Motion Picture that could actually happen (maybe with Ron Perlman?). At any rate, while in poor taste, it might partially make up for THE ROCKETEER, in which an actor made-up to look like Rondo played a fifth columnist.

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First Night

Posted in FILM with tags , , , , , , , on November 5, 2012 by dcairns

Just kidding! Got in to Dublin and joined my co-director Paul for lunch, visited the dormant office where our edit is happening, and then went to the cottage where I’m staying. I didn’t know you could have a cottage in a city, but it turns out you totally can. The great shock of a cottage is that the door from the living room opens directly onto the (-4°C) outside world.

But that was all fine until Paul plugged in a faulty kettle he’d “repaired” and blew out the electricity. I want to make it clear that this was in no sense an unwise thing for him to have done.  He’d changed the plug and that should have done it, and even if it had not, I can’t see any good reason why one kettle should knock out all the electricity. My dad’s a trained electrical engineer but it turns out that knowledge isn’t passed on genetically. The fuses had tripped, Paul re-set them, and ten per cent of the power came back. So I had my laptop, a (hastily borrowed) heater, and the lights.

It turned out to be a perfectly nice evening, with the rain lashing down outside, the heater clenched between my knees, and THE JUNGLE CAPTIVE playing on the laptop. Acquanetta (born with the less exotic name of Mildred Davenport), Universal’s resident jungle woman, has been written out of her own series (using an inversion of Hammer’s later FRANKENSTEIN series’ structure, each of the three episodes features the same monster but a different mad scientist — this time it was Otto Kruger, following in the unsteady footsteps of John Carradine and J. Carroll Naish), replaced by Vicky Lane. But we do get Rondo Hatton. And Jerome Cowan, as a detective not so much hard-boiled as scrambled.

Poor Paul was guilt-stricken about the black-out he’d inadvertently triggered, had a sick kid at home to tend to, and a plane to catch, so he was really suffering more than me. He left me with a bottle of wine, a shepherd’s pie, and an incredibly warm duvet. No complaints from me.

Inexplicably, Universal hasn’t made the entire “Paula Dupree, ape-woman” series available on home vid, but you can get the first installment (helmed by Dmytryk!) in this fine box set –

Universal Horror: Classic Movie Archive (The Black Cat / Man Made Monster / Horror Island / Night Monster / Captive Wild Woman)

Lady Cab Driver

Posted in FILM with tags , , , , , , , on June 14, 2010 by dcairns

Janet Shaw (the waitress from SHADOW OF A DOUBT) in HOUSE OF HORRORS, a better-than-expected Rondo Hatton monsterpiece viewed as part of my ongoing pursuit of those movies with illos in Denis Gifford’s Pictorial History of Horror Movies. The lovely Janet, who appears but briefly, and whose beauty is commented upon approvingly by both the hero and heroine, seems like the kind of meaningless bit part included in studio movies so that executives, directors or stars (Errol Flynn, I’m looking at you) could nail some grateful tail. Shaw’s career arc, which took her from Beatrice, Nebraska, to Hollywood, California, and back to Beatrice, Nebraska, is suggestive of at least mild disillusion…

Also featured is Sweet Sue herself, Joan Shawlee, in an outfit which could only have gotten past the censors if they’d completely forgotten what a woman’s body looks like naked (hint: it looks exactly like Joan Shawlee in her outfit in this film). These are the normal characters, also including a manly commercial artist, his wise-cracking art critic girlfriend, and a smart-talking detective… all reasonably well written but yawn

What matters is the devilish double act of Rondo and Martin Kosleck, the demented and poverty-stricken sculptor who rescues Rondo’s Creeper from the drink and soon has him posing for a modern art masterpiece (Rondo’s skull reinvents cubism), as well as lumbering forth on nocturnal missions to snap the spines of Kosleck’s critics (a good double feature with THEATRE OF BLOOD is suggested– everybody loves to see critics murdered).

What a teaming this is! Apart from the pleasing physical contrast (Kosleck, the Gollum-like shrimp, Hatton, who looks like he’s wearing American football padding and helmet under his skin), there’s a contrast in acting styles which is never less than bracing. Kosleck seizes his moment, in one of his larger roles, and worries it to shreds, monologuing at the cat and evoking a keen audience sympathy which rapidly gets twisted into awe at his wickedness. By contrast to this total commitment approach, Hatton is minimalist, paradoxical in such a big guy. His sullen, low-affect delivery is somehow completely riveting, and effectively suggests the Creeper’s psychopathic personality.

Of course, Rondo doesn’t need to act to be interesting, and it’s questionable whether anyone expected him to pull out any stops whatsoever. But he works.

(His performance does make me wonder if he really wanted to be in movies at all. Most reviews of his career are pretty critical of Universal for exploiting the poor man’s deformity in horror movies, but what makes the sleaziness worse is the suspicion that Hatton may not have had any enthusiasm for the work, and perhaps only acted to survive, resenting the exposure of his increasing deformity and disability.)

Rondo Hatton as The Whistler!

Contrasting the crazy avant-garde artist with the manly commercial painter of Gil Elvgren type girlie art, the movie has a very conservative outlook, with the experimental seen as both foreign and sinister… but it’s in the world of Kosleck’s impoverished dreaming, ripe for corruption as soon as he’s achieved power via his hulking housemate, that the film lives, breathes and wriggles.

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