CLASSIC HORROR BEHIND THE SCENES: WAS IT WORTH IT?

Monster Kids of a certain age know how hard it was to see classic horror films before the age of video. In retrospect, which films were worth the effort?

[Above: A poster for THE MUMMY’S TOMB (1942). Can you imagine a world where being unable to view it would be considered a PUNISHMENT? Read on…]

By Bill Fleck, author of the Rondo-nominated book CHANEY’S BABY, available here, and the recently Rondo-nominated CHANEY’S AUDITION, available here. Or contact me directly: billfleckenterprises@gmail.com.

Did you know? Two-time Rondo-Award winning filmmaker Thomas Hamilton is in the process of making VINCENT PRICE & THE ART OF LIVING. (I’m lucky enough to be a producer on the project.) Check out Tom’s latest HORROR ICONS update here. For information about possibly joining the Ignition Group and helping to get HORROR ICONS produced, click here. Thanks!

I’m proud to say that this blog has been nominated for a Rondo (Best Website) three years running! Please vote for me by emailing David Colton by April 20, 2025: taraco@aol.com. And check out other articles on this blog by clicking here. Thanks!

Okay, here’s the scene…

Thirteen-year-old me and my ten-year-old brother Steve have just gotten the new TV GUIDE and are scouring it for classic horror films that might be airing in the upcoming week. And by some miracle, we come across one…say, THE MUMMY’S TOMB (1942), airing at two o’clock on Thursday morning.

We underline the listing with a red pen, and then we have to do the hard part.

We have to ask Mom if we can watch it.

This is always a challenge, especially since we’ll be wanting to set an alarm and wake up early on a school day. And Mom is a teacher who is really not a classic horror fan. At times, in fact, she has deemed our favorite films to be “a bad influence.” (Don’t ask her opinion on 1960’s PSYCHO.)

True, our dad is a monster fan—after all, he’s the one who introduced us to these films. But he’s not in charge of things like this, because Mom has deemed him to be a bad influence at times as well. “Don’t encourage them, Jack.”

So…it’s all up to her.

Now, to be fair, Mom always said yes…eventually. But there were the inevitable conditions.

If homework wasn’t done, “You’re not watching THE MUMMY’S TOMB.”

If the yard wasn’t mowed—or if the sidewalk wasn’t shoveled—“You’re not watching THE MUMMY’S TOMB.”

If we didn’t clear our dinner plates, “You’re not watching THE MUMMY’S TOMB.”

If our clothes weren’t put away—or our room was messy—“You’re not watching THE MUMMY’S TOMB.”

Imagine, if you will, a world in which not watching THE MUMMY’S TOMB is a dreaded punishment.

[Above: Lon Chaney, Jr. and Turhan Bey in THE MUMMY’S TOMB (1942). Waking up in the middle of a school night to see it was worth it, at least for me. (Ironically, I thought Chaney was at his best in the early scenes…which turned out to be footage from 1940’s THE MUMMY’S HAND with Tom Tyler.) Incidentally, Bey later cited it as being one of his favorite films.]

Whatever the case may be, we navigated a volatile minefield between the time we red-lined the desired monster jewel and when we could actually set the alarm the night before the big event. (Plus, there was the inevitable cassette recorder tests…would our machine be in shape to capture the precious audio that would sustain us between random showings?)

And—of course—there was really no sleep. As I recall, our first crack at waking up at what we called “ass o’clock” to catch a classic horror flick actually had us sleeping through the majority of DRACULA (1931). By the time we came to, he was in England, about to bite Mina! So, it wasn’t easy to rest our heads remembering THAT disaster. (This is not to mention dragging our sleep-deprived butts through the hated halls of our school the next day…with visions of those glorious films dancing in our heads.)

[Above: One of the first “ass o’clock” adventures—DRACULA (1931). We somehow overslept, and didn’t catch the film until it was about 46 minutes in. BUT…it was worth it.]

Let’s face it—KING KONG (1933) was relatively easy to see. It ran every Thanksgiving, along with SON OF KONG (1933) and MIGHTY JOE YOUNG (1949). True, that meant a year between viewings, but at least we were pretty certain we would see it before the turkey was carved.

And Abbott and Costello? Every Sunday morning at 11:30, sometimes meeting Frankenstein [sic], the Mummy, Mr. Hyde, and/or the Invisible Man.

But the others? Oh, nothing so regular or predictable about them.

Flash forward nearly fifty years. My brother Steve and I are watching SCARS OF DRACULA (1970). On DVD. On demand. No need to ask permission, though our mom still lives. No need to set alarms. No need for a cassette recorder. If the grid is up and running, there’s nothing you can’t see. Ask, and it is there.

And we get talking about those old days. “Remember going through all that?” The idea for this column is his: “Think about the films we did that for. Which ones were worth it?”

So…let me tax my now Social Security-collecting memory and give a rundown that we older Monster Kids can no doubt relate to.

We’ll begin with DRACULA (1931). As noted above, our first attempt was a disaster! How we slept through that annoying electric clock BEEP-BEEP-BEEP is still a mystery. And though we were grateful to catch the last third—which is exciting—I can’t tell you how many years went by before the TV gods deemed DRACULA worthy of running again.

Was it worth it? Of course! This is Bela Lugosi’s signature role. It started the Universal horror cycle. It has a fantastic beginning and an exciting end. (Though what happened to the “There are such things” Van Sloan speech?) [1] Okay, the middle bogs down a bit, but I don’t find that it drags nearly as much as many modern critics claim—the most recent version of NOSFERATU (2024) is much slower than anything in DRACULA, at least in my opinion. (For more of my opinion on NOSFERATU, click here.)

[Above: THE WOLF MAN (1941). As I recall, the TV station cut to a Seaman’s Furniture commercial immediately after this shot, robbing us of seeing the “full-facial” man-to-wolf transformation which our father vividly remembered from youth…but which I later learned was never in the film.]

Then, of course, there was THE MUMMY’S TOMB, which I in particular—being a huge Chaney, Jr. fan—had to see.

Waking up for that one wasn’t an issue because I don’t believe I slept. And I remember being pretty happy with the film—I thought that Chaney was particularly great in his opening scenes. (Little did I know that I was watching clips of Tom Tyler from 1940’s THE MUMMY’S HAND.) The film moved quickly—even with the cheap late-night commercials—and I remember talking it up to less-than-enthusiastic friends in school the next day. (There might have been ten Monster Kids in the entire district.)

Was it worth it? Well, for me—at that time—yes. Again, I’m a huge Chaney fan. I later learned how much he despised the character (click here to see why), but I try not to let that get in the way of my enjoyment of his obviously absurd—but fun—Mummy films.

That said, I would NOT get up for it in the middle of the night again. And thanks to modern tech, I won’t have to.

Where to go from here? Oh, yeah—THE WOLF MAN (1941).

The Wolf Man is my favorite Classic Horror character. I first saw him in ABBOTT AND COSTELLO MEET FRANKENSTEIN (1948), the gateway drug to Universal Monsters. That was in third grade. Then, I’d caught FRANKENSTEIN MEETS THE WOLF MAN (1943) accidentally one weekend afternoon when it was run instead of a scheduled Mummy movie. Still, I had to wait an agonizing five or so years before TV finally ran THE WOLF MAN at ass o’clock.

My expectations were high…and though I thought the station had cut out a pivotal scene of a “full-facial” Talbot-to-beast transformation, they were very much fulfilled. [2]

Was it worth it, considering the endless, “You gotta see Seaman’s first” commercials? Of course it was. It’s one of Chaney, Jr.’s undisputed triumphs, and, in spite of some flaws, still holds its reputation as, “one of the finest horror films ever made” (Leonard Maltin). And that cast! Claude Rains, Evelyn Ankers, Maria Ouspenskaya, Lugosi, Ralph Bellamy, Patric Knowles, and Warren William. And did Curt Siodmak ever write a better story? With more literate dialog? No.

THE WOLF MAN is a classic. And I daresay, one of a kind.

[Above: The stark-staring eyes of the Bride freaked me out! And that blast of brass, courtesy of Franz Waxman? I didn’t sleep well for a long time. But it was worth it.]

BRIDE OF FRANKENSTEIN (1935) was an interesting experience. I’d kind of seen FRANKENSTEIN (1931) and BRIDE back-to-back one afternoon with my father when I was very young. I wasn’t paying much attention, and I thought it was all one long film.

A few years later, having a greater attention span, I set the clock and caught BRIDE again. Of course, I was surprised by how short the actual prologue was—have I mentioned that I thought the original and the sequel were all one film? And the unveiling of the Bride’s wide open, stark-staring eyes—accompanied by a dissonant blast of Franz Waxman’s music—scared me at night for months.

Was it worth it? C’mon, you know it was. The scene where the Monster meets the blind hermit in the hut—I’m not gonna lie, I cried (I still could). Plus, there is the marvelous, humorous dialog throughout. True, time has made me question the “Dr. Pretorious and the Little People” scene, and I think it was William K. Everson who first pointed out—at least for me—how convenient it was for someone to have installed a goodnight LEEVER in the lab for the Monster’s use at the climax.

But Boris Karloff, Colin Clive, Ernest Thesiger, Una O’Connor, Dwight Frye, and Valerie Hobson are all excellent. And Elsa Lanchester? Though she’s onscreen roughly seven minutes—for about three as Mary Shelley in the prologue, and about four as the Bride at the end—she’s obviously made a HUGE impact on the classic horror community…and culture in general.

THE DEVIL BAT (1940). This is a tough one. On the one hand, you have a fantastic Lugosi performance—a deranged genius with revenge on his mind. Lugosi delivers his ripe dialog with plentiful relish. On the other hand, you have a silly monster which is badly brought to on-screen life. But then, you have a decent supporting cast, and adequate direction by Jean Yarbrough. Was it worth it? A soft no. But I’d catch it on YouTube today at a decent hour.

[Above: Dave O’Brien (of REEFER MADNESS, er, fame) and Bela Lugosi in THE DEVIL BAT (1940). Was it worth it? Not really…but note how many of these ass o’clock films the always-entertaining Bela features in!]

Now, here’s an odd one for you: MURDER BY DECREE (1979). It’s a great film directed in lurid horror-film style by Bob Clark (1974’s BLACK CHRISTMAS), starring Christopher Plummer as Sherlock Holmes and James Mason as Dr. Watson. Their mission in this one is to track down Jack the Ripper. Performances, sets, music, camerawork, script, murder scenes? All top drawer.

Now, Steve and I had seen the film several times on HBO, and had pristine audio on cassette. But after HBO stopped showing it, Steve had a brain wave: Why not make Castle Film-style digests for films where there were no digests by shooting scenes off of TV in Super-8? (For more on Castle Films, click here.)

Steve’s first attempt at this was HOUSE OF WAX (1953). We caught it in TV GUIDE and red-lined it. Then, working from a cassette of the audio from a previous viewing, Steve worked up a digest script…a precise shot list of what scenes could be shot off TV and cobbled together to make our own 20-minute digest.

We bought the required roles of Super-8 sound, Ektachrome film (eight, as I recall). On the appointed night, we mounted our Elmo Super-8 camera on a tripod and focused it on the tube. And Steve shot his predetermined scenes, which edited together beautifully!

[Above: Christopher Plummer and James Mason in Bob Clark’s excellent MURDER BY DECREE (1979), based upon the book THE RIPPER FILE by Elwyn Jones. Clark shot most of the film on location in London in 1978.]

Shortly thereafter, MURDER BY DECREE was set for airing at ass o’clock on one of the networks (I want to say CBS). True, we thought, much of the violence would likely be cut, but a decent Fleck Brothers digest could be made all the same. Steve went about carefully assembling a shot list, and on movie night we were ready to go…

Except the network screwed us and aired THE CHICKEN CHRONICLES (1977) instead. [3] Oh, the humanity!

Was it worth it? @#$% no!

Certainly, there were many other monster classics we viewed with tired but excited eyes. Among them…

WHITE ZOMBIE (1932). Worth it, even with the frustratingly muffled soundtrack.

[Above: WHITE ZOMBIE (1932), a definite Horror Classic. According to Bob Cremer, Lugosi’s biographer, Bela actually directed many of the scenes. Verdict: worth it.]

MURDERS IN THE RUE MORGUE (1932). Worth it for Lugosi alone.

[Above: MURDERS IN THE RUE MORGUE (1932). Lugosi and director Robert Florey’s Grand Guignol-imagery made it worth it, even if the plot—and the other actors—were, well, meh.]

MAN MADE MONSTER (1941). Well worth it. Great performances from a pre-WOLF MAN Chaney, Samuel S. Hinds, Anne Nagel, Frank Albertson, and—of course!—Lionel Atwill.

[Above: Samuel S. Hinds with Lon Chaney, Jr. in MAN MADE MONSTER (1941). I loved seeing Chaney playing a character this loose and happy…which made his fate at the hands of Lionel Atwill’s wicked Dr. Rigas that much more horrible. Worth it? C’mon!]

ISLAND OF LOST SOULS (1932). Oh, yeah. Moreau’s kinky plan to have Parker and the Panther Woman, well, “unite.” And that climax!

[Above: Bela (again) with Charles Laughton in ISLAND OF LOST SOULS (1932). The perverse nature of Dr. Moreau’s experiments and the horrific climax definitely made it worth waking up for in the wee hours.]

And Spencer Tracy in DR. JEKYLL AND MR. HYDE (1941)? Very much worth it. Hyde’s leering smile! Not to mention Ingrid Bergman and Lana Turner.

[Above: Spencer Tracy leers away in DR. JEKYLL AND MR. HYDE (1941). Pictures of Tracy in his Hyde makeup were rare for years. But now, thanks to modern technology, they’re more than accessible. And yes, the film was worth waking up for.)

Interestingly, not all of our first viewings of Classic Horror flicks were ass o’clock experiences. Roger Corman’s Poe films with Vincent Price were generally weekday afternoon affairs—heavily edited, of course. And most of the Hammer films aired on weekend afternoons…also heavily edited. Go figure.

As it happens, shortly after THE CHICKEN CHRONICLES debacle, home video machines started to become available. Once the prices dropped a bit, the Fleck family was in. (We were really smart and got a Betamax.) My first purchase? The remake of KING KONG (1976) on two tapes at $69.99…worth a bit less than $250.00 at this writing. (Have I mentioned we were smart?)

Well, I need not tell you how available our favorite films are now. Even some films at one time presumed lost—like MYSTERY OF THE WAX MUSEUM (1933)—are just a few clicks (and, perhaps, a few dollars) away. [4] I am one Monster Kid who is profoundly grateful that this is now the case, because I’d hate to be setting my alarm for ass o’clock at this age.

But would I do it if I had to?

Of course. It was worth it.

NOTES

[1] So, I did a little digging. Allegedly, the original epilogue was removed for the 1936 re-release, supposedly to “avoid contention from religious groups. The epilogue was never restored for any future releases” (Lost Media Wiki). The article goes on to say, “A few stills and a brief clip of the epilogue are featured in the 1999 documentary ROAD TO DRACULA. In September 2021, David J. Skal [R.I.P.], director of ROAD TO DRACULA and noted writer and historian known for his work in the horror genre, was contacted by the LOOSE LEAF CELLULOID podcast and asked about the state of the footage. According to Skal, Universal acquired the only known copy of the sequence from the British Film Institute by the late nineties. As it features ‘several raggedy jump cuts’ and is missing portions of the soundtrack, ‘Universal’s quality control people deemed it “unusable” and refused to let it be used in its entirety, so I came up with the solution you see in my documentary.’ He also stated that a restoration is possible, though he doubts one is likely due to costs.”

[2] As I mentioned, my dad loved these films and had seen most of them at the theater as a kid. But memory is funny—he’d convinced me that there was such a scene in THE WOLF MAN. Of course, there was not. He also thought there was a close-up in DRACULA wherein the Count begs, “No, no, please!” just before being staked. This doesn’t appear to be true, either. Ah, well.

[3] A comedy-drama starring Phil Silvers and Steve Guttenberg which I have never seen…and will never see, if I have any say.

[4] Will LONDON AFTER MIDNIGHT (1927) ever be found? And, if so, will it actually be any good? Keep your fingers crossed.

SOURCES

“Dracula (partially found epilogue scene of Universal horror film; 1931).” LOST MEDIA WIKI. www.lostmediawiki.com. Accessed March 6, 2025. Web.

NOTE: The pictures utilized herein are for educational purposes only. I do not own the copyrights, nor do I make any money from this website.