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on in an equally horrifying vein, softening the monster a bit and putting a few intelligible words into its mouth, just to be different.
Surviving the fire in the mill, Karloff murders half a dozen more innocent bystanders and wanders into a blind hermit's hut, attracted by the mellow tones of a violin. Unable to see his horrible visitor, the hermit bakes a cake, pours a cup of tea and, generally, treats his strange guest with proper respect. All of which impresses Karloff as being pretty swell and sorta brings out the best in him (if old Doc Pretorius put any in?).
To produce a mate for their original invention, Pretorius and Clive raid a vault, slay a village maiden, and collect the necessary materials via the most gruesome channels imaginable.
And then, after all their work, the incorporated damsel (Elsa Lanchester) takes one look at her prospective bridegroom and proceeds to shriek herself unconscious!
All of which makes Karloff so dern mad that he blows up the whole joint! And we'll bet there won't be enough pieces left out of the entire crowd to put together even a Frankenstein Mickey Mouse!
James Whale directs the shambles.
If "The ObTIMES SQUARE ject of My
LA1IY Affections'''
» hasn't driven
M-G-M you stark, star
ing mad by now, you'll probably get a bang and a half out of listening to Pinky Tomlin (papa of the piece) put it over in his own inimitable manner.
All over the M-G-M lot, stars, extras, prop boys . . . everybody, in fact, is muttering in their respective beards, "she can go where she wants to go, do what she wants to do, I don't care!" . . . and why? Simply because when word gets 'round that Pinky is recording the number that made him famous, Director George Seitz has to hang out the S.R.O. sign on the "Times Square Lady" set, it's that crowded!
Bob Shannon and Al Cohen have draped a nice little story over the very active skeleton of the "object of Pinky's affections."
Virginia Bruce hops a freight out of Iowa, landing in Times Square with a definite idea of taking charge of her deceased father's interests in a flock of sporting enterprises.
All set to bilk our Nell out of her profitable inheritances, Robert Taylor, with no malice aforethought falls in love with the beautiful blonde from Podunk.
Disgusted with the whole lay-out, the head gangster figures that Taylor will be better off out of his misery. But, before his henchmen can do our hero dirt. Nat Pendleton dashes to the rescue, shoves Bob out of danger and fixes everything so that there's nothing for the kids to say but ... "I do!"
If there's BECKY SHARP any justice, A Pioneer Production then our • third choice
RKO-PATHE of the Ten
RELEASE Best can't
be wrong? Taken from Thackeray's "Vanity Fair," done in color, with a cast of important names, and directed by Rouben Mamoulian, this should be in the Honorable Mention list . . . and no quibbling. Snubbed by London society because of her doubtful ancestry, Miriam Hopkins (in the title role) secretly marries Alan Mowbray, nephew of the aristocratic Mrs. Leslie Carter, for whom she works.
When the news gets out, Mrs. Carter furiously washes her hands of the two of them, turning them out in the cold world to sink or swim. But Becky has a way with men, and, employing her wit and beauty to good advantage, manages to keep the matrimonial bark afloat with little difficulty.
A conscienceless little minx, Becky doesn't care where the money comes from, just so long as it comes, and. when her dearest friend's husband falls for her, Becky makes the most of his infatuation, financially.
Catching his wife in a compromising position with Sir Cedric Hardwicke. Mowbray tells her off and goes out of her life, forever. And that puts the skids under the really-good-at-heart Becky.
When she's right down at the bottom of the pile, Frances Dee, the girl friend, whose husband she has worked on, takes her home and gives the down-and-out Becky a new lease on life.
Unable to oust her philandering propensities, Becky carries on as of yore, and the curtain goes down as she starts an emotional campaign on Frances' fat brother.
No foolin', MARK OF THE we've been
VAMPIRE haunted ever
• since we walked
M-G-M through the
musty, dusty,
gloomy old castle on the M-G-M lot,
where all kinds of vampires, bats and
nasty mans are supposed to hang out.
Standing there in the gloom, a mist of cobweb trailing from the feather on our hat, we turned suddenly to face old man Dracula and his horriferous daughter. Luna!
With one faint shriek, we picked up our heels, tripped over a dust-covered hassock and landed, gasping, at the feet of a clattering suit of armor! And did Bela Lugosi and Carol Borland ever laugh!
"O.K. for make-up!" grinned Director Tod Browning. "If it's that effective, I guess we're all ready to shoot!"
It would really be a shame to spoil your illusions by breaking down and telling the denouement of his bloodcurdling tale, by Guy Endore and Bernard Schubert.
Suffice it to say that Bela and Miss Borland go around biting nice folks in the neck, robbing cemeteries and consorting with bats and ghouls until, if any of you get a good night's sleep after viewing this one, then you're a better man than I am.
In the first reel, Holmes Herbert is found dead, with two small wounds in his throat. His daughter, Elizabeth Allan, is engaged to Henry Wadsworth, and apparently, this state of affairs comes far from meeting with the approval of the vampires, because both of the kids are nearly annihilated before the mystery is cleared up and the villains are exposed.
Lionel Barrymore, Lionel Atwill, Jean Hersholt and others are with me in keeping you-all in the dark until the last five hundred feet of film have run through the sprockets.
All Hollywood has PARIS II¥ been holding its breath SPRING while waiting for the • promised tempera
PARAM©uj\t mental outburst between Tullio Carminati and Mary Ellis, high-powered prima donna. But, to date, things have been running as smoothly as a brand new Rolls Royce.
Maybe it's Director Lewis Milestone's fault, because if there was ever a director who knew the whys and wherefores {Please turn to page 60)
caidtiTul O/
1
cs ARE YOURS FOR THE ASKING
WHEN YOU ASK FOR
says DOROTHY HAMILTON
C\'oled Beatify
Jutbority of Hollywood
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Black or drown
Blue. 'Brown, Blue-Qray, "Violet and Qreev
Colorless
Black or IVbile Bristles
The Netv Movie Magazine, May, 1935
59