The Lost Zeppelin (1929)

Huh. So I came across this wee film while I was wandering about the Netflix site, doing one of those periodic DVD queue replenishment things I do.

Y'see, once or twice a year I go through Netflix's movies genre by genre, slap 40 or 50 I think I might like to see (or see again) into my queue, then forget the whole thing exists until whenever the next "almost empty" reminder shows up. I figure since everything I added holds at least some interest to me, I can just not bother with upkeep and be pleasantly surprised by whatever shows up.

This clever plan works most of the time--every once in awhile I end up with a DVD in-hand that I'd unwittingly streamed on Amazon the week before, or a disc shows up I can't for the life of me figure out why adding it seemed like a good idea, but mostly my little system works and keeps me happily in weekend-movie-watching-mode.

Anyway, enough about my Netflix adding-to-the-queue game plan. YOU came here to read about The Lost Zeppelin. And so you shall:

I think what got The Lost Zeppelin added to my queue in the first place was (a) it's a 1920s talkie and I was curious what that would look/sound like, and (b) what's not to love about a cinematic dirigible disaster? (Don't you just love saying that word? Dirigible. DIRIGIBLE!)

Of course I qualify my what's-not-to-love-ness as being for the cinematic variety versus real life, since the Hindenburg tragedy truly horrifies me even today, but I do so love a good fictional disaster of almost any kind, dirigible-style included. (DIRIGIBLE!) Anyway, upon disc's arrival, this movie pretty much provided me with what I was hoping for.

The film itself runs about an hour and eleven minutes, but it feels longer on account of all the, well, talking going on during the picture. Maybe sound was so new at the time audiences were eating all that dialogue up, but for a 21st century movie-goer this thing moves pret-ty slow. Which is not to say I didn't enjoy it. I did. It was just a slow-mover, like more than a few movies of its time. And in that same vein, the acting comes off a little stilted, the direction a bit static--you know how it is. But with all that in mind, there's still a fair bit of room for enjoyment.

The film concentrated on three main characters, played by Conway Tearle, Virginia Valli and Ricardo Cortez. I don't know enough about 1920s Hollywood to say if these actors were "stars" of not, but each was quite active from the early teens through at least the mid thirties--and in Cortez's case, right up into the sixties. So, no one hit wonders carrying the film.

I didn't see anywhere that this was taken from a short story, but it has the feel of one of those air adventure pulps so popular at the time--you know, like Air Wonder Stories or Flying Aces. Air travel in general--and dirigibles in particular--were all the rage in the late twenties/early thirties, and this movie plays like one of those air pulp mags would read.

So yeah, the early talkie aspects of the film were both frustrating and enjoyable--frustrating because they were primitive enough to get in the way of the film's storytelling, and enjoyable just by way of nostalgia and a sense of "wow, once upon a time that stuff was really new and how cool to see this slice of history today" kind of thing.

The special effects for the film must have been stunning for their day though, and I'll say they actually hold up reasonably well in the here and now. At least nothing took me out-of-story by coming off as ridiculous or overly clunky, effects-wise. A lot of miniatures being effectively used throughout, along with full-sized props, and what with the thing being filmed almost entirely on sound stages, they did a really nice job portraying Antarctic terrain and conditions.

Hmm. I was about to comment on the movie's peripheral sci-fi elements, as a 1920s dirigible certainly wouldn't have been able to make it to anywhere near the South Pole, but a quick Google search tells me my knowledge deficits aren't limited only to 1920s Hollywood star status. Looks like dirigibles (DIRIGIBLE!) of the time can and did make it to the North Pole at least, so that makes this movie more of a straight up adventure, and not really even marginally sci-fi.

Annnd... I guess that's all I have to say about this little picture. Not one you need to seek out unless it's for curiosity's sake (like it was for me), but if you do, chances are you'll come away feeling like it was at least mildly worth your time. Oh, and don't bother with a Netflix DVD, this thing is public domain and all over the internet....

So there. (DIRIGIBLE!)

TWO AND A HALF ICE-COATED-AIRBAG BRAINS

Futility (1929) by S.P. Meek

(or)

Final Destination: 1929

A quick post to say I've lately been enjoying many a public domain mag over at The Pulp Magazine Archive, and to pass along a wee story I just read, which had me thinking Final Destination franchise. (You'll see why when you read it.)

Sure, it's written in that dry-as-bones 1920s parlance that could end up removing a year from your life in the twenty minutes it takes to read, but if that happens it might almost worth it. (Almost.) Anyway, I added the entire story--pulled right from the magazine (which magazine you can get for your very own self here)--as individual JPEGs down below. 

You can click through each JPEG to make it full on readable sized (assuming you're not reading on a cell phone), and if you're feeling really frisky, you could download the lot and turn 'em into a PDF or CBZ or something.

Or you could just much-more-sanely download the entire mag at that ready-made link above. But you know, doing it the hard insane way has a place in the world too. Oh, hey, and here's a bit about Mr. Meek. So yeah, here you go. Enjoy and stuff.

The count? Well I'm going with THREE FUTILELY-RESISTING BRAINS. (Get it, Borg reference? Woo!)

Frankenstein on Film - The Silents

Frankenstein on Film - The Silents
Frankenstein on Film - Universal Part 1
Frankenstein on Film - Universal Part 2
Frankenstein on Film - Hammer

Forgive me, Reader, for I have sinned.
It's been seven months since my last post.

I was flipping through some articles on the old Universal horror films (it being October and all), and I got to thinking how cool it'd be to see a photo comparison of all the actors who played the creature throughout the series. You know, to compare makeup and physical characteristics and stuff.

(I REALLY love to compare things.)

But. Never one to keep a simple plan simple, I got all above and beyond and started looking up pictures of every monster in every Frankenstein series (Universal, Hammer, etc.). You know, so I could really get the Full Deal.

(Did I mention that I really love to compare things? Peanut butter and jelly/peanut butter and honey, old mustangs/new mustangs, original movies/remade movies, first editions/later editions....)

So anyway, this post is for the pre-Universal silent films. It's not much of a comparison really, 'cause I found precious little information. These films seem to have little to nothing in the way of web love. So. I did the best I could.

---

Far as I know, the first film version of Frankenstein was done in 1910 by Edison Studios and titled, appropriately enough, "Frankenstein".

It ran about 15 minutes and took kind of an existential moralistic approach. The monster (played by Charles Ogle) is created because Frankenstein has acted on his "evil and unnatural thoughts".

I have those sometimes.

Later, the poor beast is sent to his doom by being dissolved away into the aether, as Frankenstein concentrates on exercising his "love and... better nature". Kind of Dr. Jekyll and Mister Hyde-ish. Without the body-sharing.

Meh. To each his own, but I like me a good old fashioned created versus creator. None of this mamby pamby emotional stuff.

Anyhoo, we're not here to review the movie; we're here to see the monster.

First, we have the Edison Monster closeup. Ish. Closeup-ish.

Hmmph.

I'm guessing this was a scary face in 1910.

I guess, if I take my pinkie finger, and hold it up really close to the screen right in front of his mouth, he does look pretty monster-ish. But when I don't hold up my pinkie, he looks.... Well, you can see for yourself how he looks. For early nineteen hundreds sensibilities, though, it was probably pretty daring and extreme. (Nothing to do with Mary Shelly's descriptions, but then none of the other films have gone there either.)

The full figure shot.

I know the film is a serious piece, but all I'm gettin' here is "hula dance".

I believe Elvis may be just off camera, strumming "Blue Hawaii" on his guitar....

You know, no one has ever done justice in portraying the sheer size of the creature as told by Shelly. For obvious reasons, of course. She describes him as "eight feet in height, and proportionably large". Not many actors fit that bill.

You get the movies that try (admirable), with padded shoulders and shoe lifts. And you get the ones who throw out the size thing and portray him as average (lame). To get an idea of what we're talking about, check out this real life eight foot guy, Leonid Stadnyk:

8 foot veterinarian Leonid Stadnyk, on the right (obviously), with Ukraine President Viktor Yanukovych.

Yeah. You know what I'm saying then.

Anyway, just for fun, here's a pic of 1910 monster Charles Ogle sans makeup (really quite a proper looking British chap).

Just two words: Lionel Hardcastle. Am I right, those of you in the know?

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Now, here's where the whole comparison thing breaks down.

Below is the ONLY image I could find having ANYTHING to do with the second film. It was called "Life Without Soul" and filmed in 1915. This was no short--no no, it weighed in at 70 minutes! Oh, how I'd love to see this one.

But. I can't; none of us can, because it's a Lost Film. Grrmph. As far as anyone knows, there are no surviving reels or stills. But then, you know, Edison's Frankenstein was considered a Lost Film until the 1970s when some bloke pulled a print out of a dusty box and said "look here!".  So you never know....

---

No longer comparing but in the interests of thoroughness, a fellow in Italy made a third film called Il Mostro di Frankenstein, in 1920 or 1921, depending on your sources. But there's even less known about it than about the previous one. May have run about 40 minutes and is... also... considered lost.

Sigh.

But I did find a photo of the Italian guy (Umberto Guarracino) who played the monster. Not actually a photo of him PLAYING the monster. Just a photo of him apparently dancing with another man.

I guess they're actually fighting. He's on the left.

He's got monster-y eyes... but the other guys bigger.

Sigh. What a downer. How does a fella compare monsters when he can't find the monsters?

Now I'm depressed.

Damn.