Films: 1930s
(1933) The Mystery of the Wax Museum
Tuesday, December 26, 2006
The Mystery of the Wax Museum
Director: Michael Curtiz
Release: 1933 
Those who were fortunate enough to come of age during the heyday of the One True Bible (otherwise known as Forrest J. Ackerman's Famous Monsters of Filmland magazine) will most likely recall seeing a number of stills from this Technicolor gem.
Fewer by far are the number who have seen the actual film, a fact which was aided by the belief that the film had been irretrievably lost for many years. And it would seem that the powers-that-be at Warner Brothers wish it to remain wreathed in obscurity - they buried the DVD version as a flip side to the arguably inferior Vincent Price vehicle, "House of Wax."
The storyline: A sculptor, driven insane after seeing his waxen creations destroyed in a fire, opens a new wax museum some years later, but suspicions are aroused when some of the wax figures bear a striking resemblance to missing persons. It is not the plot that carries the day here, however, nor is it the able direction of Michael Curtiz.
The lion's share of this film's enjoyment factor falls squarely at the feet of Lionel Atwill as the sculptor, Ivan Igor, and Glenda Farrell as Florence Dempsey, the quintessential brash dame reporter.
A brief aside — yes, Fay Wray is in this film, too. As expected, she screams really well, but not nearly often enough to justify her presence in a rather one-dimensional role as Florence's roommate and Joan of Arc look-alike. Farrell effortlessly takes the spotlight from Wray at every turn.
Atwill is perhaps best known for his role as the one-armed police inspector in "Son of Frankenstein," but that role involved a bit more scenery-chewing than his surprisingly subtle, menacing, yet sympathetic interpretation of the mad sculptor. It is a masterful performance, though even Atwill at times appears to be less of an entity than the brassy Farrell. In a role that verges dangerously close to the realm of the overblown, Farrell adds just enough restraint and even a touch of vulnerability to humanize (and complicate) her character.
One would be hard-pressed to claim that "The Mystery of the Wax Museum" broke any new cinematic ground, carrying as it does an almost formulaic feel reminiscent of some of the RKO pictures of the same period. However, the juxtaposition of the traditional "old dark house" elements with the "smart mouthed female reporter gets to the bottom of things" motif must have looked fresh to audiences of the day.
There are a number of scenes which are more effective because they take place in silence, and otherwise the musical score never becomes obtrusive. The primitive two-strip Technicolor process, far from detracting from the film's ambiance, gives the colors a pastel warmth, as well as a slight edge of unreality, that has aged extremely well, and transfers beautifully to DVD.
"The Mystery of the Wax Museum" has undeniable charms but perhaps foremost among them is how it fits into the "horror film as security blanket" approach to genre criticism, and this is not solely due to the nostalgia factor for baby boomers as mentioned above.
There is a certain comfort to be found in a horror film that does not break from the expectations of the "formula." That is, by the time the end credits roll, everything has turned out precisely as the viewer probably predicted at the beginning (although it is to be hoped that the director arrived there in some unexpected way). The status quo has been restored and the ending is happy for at least one of the protagonists. Those viewing "The Mystery of the Wax Museum" for the first time will find that it feels like slipping into a favorite easy chair with a cherished book (to be read, of course, by candlelight).
Tim Emswiler
Cinescare Correspondent
The Mystery of the Wax Museum, 1933
Atwill is perhaps best known for his role as the one-armed police inspector in "Son of Frankenstein," but that role involved a bit more scenery-chewing than his surprisingly subtle, menacing, yet sympathetic interpretation of the mad sculptor.
