The Red Eye Report's 2010 October Horrorthon #26: "You'll Find Out"

Just when you thought you'd seen every old dark house movie -- well, here's another one. But in lieu of Bob Hope or Creighton Hale prowling about a spooky abode, You'll Find Out features Kay Kyser, star of stage, radio, and apparently haunted mansion flicks. On loan from their College of Musical Knowledge, Kay and his ragtag band are hired to play at the 21st birthday gala of pretty young Janis Bellacrest (Helen Parrish). The shindig is being held at her ancestral home, where the spirit of her eccentric father is said to still roam the halls. But the house has attracted some flesh-and-blood terrors, as an old judge (Boris Karloff), a phony psychic (Bela Lugosi), and a gap-toothed mythbuster (Peter Lorre) have teamed up to swindle Janis out of her healthy inheritance. With all the strength a wimpy wisecracker like him can muster, Kay sets out to brave the Bellacrest house of horrors and keep Janis out of harm's way.

You'll Find Out is a scary movie that normal people can feel good about watching -- which is to say it isn't scary at all. It's more in tune with The Cat and the Canary, only with even more emphasis on humorous shenanigans. The spooky side of the story is pushed aside a lot, as You'll Find Out was essentially made as a vehicle for the Kay Kyser players. As such, we get a ton of musical interludes that pop up without much rhyme or reason, and this film having been made in 1940, they can be mighty lame (the "Bad Humor Man" number alone sent me into a corniness coma). The only things to fear here are Kay's one-liners and the slapstick set pieces, which make Abbott and Costello's schtick look like Bill Hicks material. Even the main mystery doesn't seem to have been given much thought, considering it's not even really a mystery. The bad guys are revealed not even halfway into the movie, and while it's part of the joke that an oblivious Kay puts his trust in the nogoodniks, it's a reach just to make him look like an even bigger doofus.

But in spite of it all, I'd be lying if I didn't say that You'll Find Out didn't warm up to me at least a little bit. The humor is campy and dated, sure, but neither your intelligence nor the cast's dignity suffers for it. It has an innocent spirit that's hard to hate, and it doesn't treat its thrill-centric side as a total joke. Karloff, Lugosi, and Lorre are all in on the act, and all three give surprisingly wonderful performances. Lugosi was a treat in particular, playing the role of a self-important psychic straight and getting more laughs for it (there's even a silly seance scene with a few freaky tweaks). Plus, for as many cheesy songs there are, some can be extremely charming, especially the Oscar-nominated "I'd Know You Anywhere" -- it hasn't a thing to do with the story, but it's a good tune anyway, dammit. Kay Kyser himself also carries on a fine tradition of film cowards, playing the part of unlikely hero, who's more liable to throw out snarky quips than battle the forces of darkness head-on.

You'll Find Out isn't terrible funny, and it's even less suspenseful, but I can't rag on it too much. The sentimentality seeps from every pore, and despite the best efforts of that cranky old fart in all of us, we can't help but be charmed by the earnestness of the production. You'll Find Out comes in a set with three other Karloff/Lugosi cheese wheels, so if you've got the stomach for some serious saccharine, this well-meaning ditty will be a breeze to watch.

The Red Eye Report's 2010 October Horrorthon #23: "Voodoo Man"

If horror films have taught us anything, it's to never trust the open road. In 1944's Voodoo Man, a line-up of lovely ladies learn this the hard way when a phony detour sign leads them right into the hands of the demented Dr. Marlowe (Bela Lugosi). For the last two decades, Dr. Marlowe has been obsessed with resurrecting his dead wife, using the life essence of girls he kidnaps to do so only for very brief periods. The snarky Stella Saunders (Louise Currie) is snatched up en route to her cousin's wedding, but luckily, she has the groom, Ralph Dawson (Michael Ames), as a traveling buddy. A Hollywood screenwriter who's seen it all, Ralph is quick on the case when Stella turns up missing, leading the charge to get to the bottom of Dr. Marlowe's witchery and save Stella from becoming a shell of her former self.

Well, kids, I guess they can't all be winners. Lugosi is as revered as classic horror stars get, his name synonymous with terror and the vampire's image for years -- but man, was he in some real stinkers. Everyone knows about Lugosi's collaborations with the infamous Ed Wood, but the cheapie Voodoo Man popped up a decade before the two crossed paths. It's the sort of picture many horror icons of the time made on the fly (or a speedy seven days, in this case). The production's thriftiness sure shows in the all-around crummy quality, but Voodoo Man doesn't reach the epic awfulness of a Plan 9 or a Manos. In fact, for a B-movie, it's pretty low-key, with little to its name other than some traces of nostalgic cheesiness. It even came out while Lugosi was still doing his best work, hitting theaters close to The Return of the Vampire and a year before he tangled with Boris Karloff in The Body Snatcher. For a man whose career unfortunately became a joke as it progressed, Lugosi made the best of it and delivered a halfway decent performance here.

Needless to say, Voodoo Man still possesses some quirky aspects that make it an amusingly dumb flick. For one, the voodoo man of the title isn't Lugosi's Marlowe but more so George Zucco's character, a henchman who leads a dark ritual meant to sap the souls of young women. Of course, this being the '40s, the film's concept of "voodoo" consists of guys in Snuggies covered in Lucky Charms symbols and chanting gibberish (and don't even ask me how Marlowe's hypnotism experiments are supposed to help out). Also, in addition to Lugosi and Zucco, horror vet John Carradine shows up in what the Netflix disc sleeve claims was his least favorite role. Carradine appeared in worse flicks in his time, but I do see how it'd suck having to play vacant-eyed, bongo-bashing flunkie to Lugosi's stare-happy madman. The "normal" characters are plenty bland but inoffensive, the actors caring enough so as not to come across like they're ready to take their slim paychecks and run.

Voodoo Man isn't a very good film, but it's not the be-all, end-all of B-cinema, either. You can find it in a lot of those sets of 20+ public domain horror movies, or if you're in the mood for a chuckle, Rifftrax sells a version with its own damn funny commentary track. But Voodoo Man is nothing to get worked up over, not rancid enough to make enemies or endeardingly corny enough to win over Lugosi completists.

October Horror-thon #25: "Night Monster" (1942)

Welcome to Ingston Towers, home of the looniest tunes to ever grace a Universal production. Patriarch Kurt (Ralph Morgan) is confined to a wheelchair, his sister (Fay Helm) thinks she's going insane, and a would-be swami (Nils Asther) has made himself at home. It's to this funny farm that Kurt summons a trio of doctors he plans to astound with a medical breakthrough. Our friend the yogist has apparently taught him how to repair human organs and tissue using nothing but his mind. But while the doctors dispute this fantastic claim, something strange has taken to prowling the Ingston estate at night, an evil force introducing those who cross its path to an early grave.

It's safe to say that Universal had its fair share of corny fright flicks. They can't all be classics, so it's only natural that the occasional oddity turn up. But none have been as downright puzzling as Night Monster, an unassuming mystery that plays like The Old Dark House by way of David Lynch. Disorientation is key, as viewers are launched into what feels like a story already in progress; you'll swear there's 20 extra minutes floating around somewhere. The film also has a habit of jumping from character to character, each one loopy enough to star in their own B-vehicle. Eventually, Night Monster settles down a bit and adopts a traditional whodunit format, though once the initial, "What the hell?" shock has passed, it turns out to be a pretty by-the-books picture.

For one, Night Monster sure makes the story a breeze to figure out. Without giving too much away, there's one moment fairly early on where if it seems like the movie's telling you exactly what's going to happen, it is. Plus, this "revelation" really does test one's commitment to the fantastic. We've come to accept the walking dead and all sorts of supernatural boogeymen over the years, but Night Monster doesn't play its cards well enough for audiences to buy into its baloney. Other than that, it's a decent enough spook show, with an entertaining turn from Morgan as the crippled Mr. Ingston. Even Bela Lugosi puts in an appearance as the obligatory butler, a glorified cameo that nevertheless highlights one of the more lucid moments of his career.

Night Monster may bat for Universal's bush leagues (outdone even by obscure fare like Captive Wild Woman), but it makes for an all-around quirky watch. As fleetingly unconventional as it is, such nuttiness does stir things up and add a little flavor to this silly cinematic stew.