The Black Castle (1952)

Very Cool!!!

Powerful

Beautiful, moving film.

Admirable film.

Richard Greene plays Sir Ronald Burton, who goes to the "black castle" of evil Count Karl Von Bruno(played by Stephen McNally) whom he suspects of murdering his two friends. He meets the Count's attractive wife Elga, who had been forced to marry him. Naturally, they fall in love, and are aided by Dr. Meissen(played by Boris Karloff) who does all he can to help, but they are found out, leading them to take drastic actions... Lon Chaney Jr. costars as hulking servant Gargon, who tends to a pit of alligators in the Count's dungeons. Mediocre film quite similar to "The Strange Door", which also wasted Karloff in a small role, and likewise may make a suitable double-feature on a rainy day, but that's all.

In the 1951 Gothic melodrama "The Strange Door," Boris Karloff played a subsidiary role, that of Voltan, the hulking manservant of the wicked Squire de Maletroit (Charles Laughton, in a deliciously evil performance). In his next film, 1952's "The Black Castle," another Gothic melodrama with horror trappings, Karloff again took a backseat, playing another grotesque servant to a wicked castle owner. In the latter film, Boris plays a medical man named Dr. Meissen, a retainer of the castle's eye-patched owner, the Count Karl von Bruno (played with relish by Stephen McNally), deep in the Black Forest. To this gloomy abode (in what appears to be the late 18th century) comes a handsome Englishman, Sir Ronald Burton (hunky Richard Greene), purportedly to go hunting on the count's estate, but in actuality seeking two comrades who he believes the count had murdered. And Sir Ronald certainly does find a lot more than he'd been looking for, in this surprisingly well-done little film."The Black Castle" throws quite a bit into its brief 82 minutes to ensure a good time. It is well acted by its entire cast (McNally makes for an excellent, hissable villain, although he does not seem especially Germanic; Greene is quite dashing and likable; Paula Corday is quite fetching as the count's miserably downtrodden wife) and features some striking B&W photography. Director Nathan Juran--who, later that decade, would endear himself to psychotronic-film fans by helming such wonderful entertainments as "20 Million Miles to Earth," "The Brain From Planet Arous" and the camp classic "Attack of the 50 Foot Woman"--utilizes interesting camera angles to give his film an off-kilter look, and his use of light and shadow is masterly. For a "B picture," the film looks terrific, and, like "The Strange Door," features an extremely exciting and suspenseful windup. As for those above-mentioned horror trappings, they are there in both the presences of Karloff AND Lon Chaney, Jr. (here playing Gargon, a shambling mute, and sadly underused), as well as the inclusion of an eerie leopard hunt, a dungeon filled with hungry alligators, a drug that simulates death, and a double premature burial...not to mention some nifty swordplay and assorted murders. Truth to tell, I really did enjoy this picture, and cannot understand why the "Maltin Classic Movie Guide" terms it "uninspired," or why even my beloved "Psychotronic Encyclopedia of Film" calls it "tame, dull Gothic horror." The film is hardly tame, never dull, and features some truly inspired action scenes and situations. Or maybe I'm just easier to please than some others. True, when compared to several of Boris' other "black pictures"--such as 1934's "The Black Cat," 1935's "The Black Room" and 1963's "Black Sabbath"--the picture comes off second best, but those others are bona fide horror classics. "The Black Castle" is not in that rarefied league (how many horror films are?) but remains a memorable and exciting chiller/thriller nevertheless. It is highly recommended to all genre buffs!

1952's "The Black Castle" was a followup to the prior season's "The Strange Door," Universal Gothics preceding the studio's switch to science fiction with 1953's "It Came from Outer Space." The opening credits roll in front of the miniature castle seen in "The Ghost of Frankenstein," with familiar musical cues from "The Wolf Man," "Frankenstein Meets the Wolf Man," "House of Frankenstein," even "Son of Frankenstein." Charles Laughton enjoyed a field day in "The Strange Door," which focused on the villains, while this slightly lesser feature (both scripted by Jerry Sackheim) centers on the heroic Englishman Sir Ronald Burton (Richard Greene), who journeys to The Black Forest and the domain of Count Karl Von Bruno (Stephen McNally), a former adversary in Africa, who had set himself up as a god with the local natives, only to be driven out after encountering Sir Ronald's forces, losing his right eye in the process. Burton is certain that two trusted allies were victims of the sadistic Von Bruno, whose lovely Countess (Paula Corday, "The Body Snatcher") takes a shine to the newcomer (soon to play Robin Hood on British television), who demonstrates his swordsmanship in a brief encounter with Michael Pate and John Hoyt, as henchmen of the Count. This castle comes with a dungeon, a black leopard, a pit full of alligators, and a coffin containing the skeleton of the wicked Count's first wife. Lon Chaney gets a stirring entrance but little screen time as Gargon, the Count's hulking mute caretaker, whose tongue was ripped out by the angry natives, while Boris Karloff also gets shortchanged in the small role of Dr. Meissen, physician to the Count but devoted to the Countess. He at least sets up the climax, the lovers taking a page out of Shakespeare by swallowing a potion that simulates death, delighting the villains who congratulate the doctor for allowing such a fitting demise for their enemies (buried alive). Together for the second time (after 1944's "House of Frankenstein"), Karloff and Chaney would be reunited once more, in the ROUTE 66 episode "Lizard's Leg and Owlet's Wing." Stephen McNally has fewer opportunities to shine than Charles Laughton, but rises to the occasion once faced with Burton's true identity. Michael Pate enjoys more screen time than he had in "The Strange Door," and would work with John Hoyt again in 1959's "Curse of the Undead." Like most of Universal's popular 50s catalog, this film aired on Pittsburgh's Chiller Theater four times- Dec 8 1973 (following 1960's "Psycho"), December 21 1974 (preceding 1956's "The Mole People"), June 21 1975 (preceding 1955's "Tarantula"), and March 12 1977 (following 1958's "Monster on the Campus").

The best thing -- and that's pretty good -- about The Black Castle is that it's a black-and- white Forties' Gothic grabber featuring a murderous mad count which was somehow made in 1952. The star ostensibly is the British actor Richard Greene, a capable leading man who reminds me of an earlier version of Roger Moore. The villain is a mad count played by Stephen McNally, who does a credible job except when he's called on to laugh maniacally. Skulking around in the shadows is a long-gowned Boris Karloff in a decidedly secondary role of an aged doctor who may or may not be the salvation of our hero. It's the middle of the 18th Century in Austria and Sir Ronald Burton (Greene) is determined to find out what happened to two close friends. They disappeared in the vicinity of the castle belonging to Count Karl von Bruno (McNally), deep in the Black Forest. It seems that Sir Ronald and his friends had been instrumental in defeating a brutal plan of von Bruno's in Africa three years previously involving slavery and ivory. The Count was left not only with failure, but with a scar on his face and a black patch he now wears to cover a ruined eye. von Bruno vowed revenge, and it seems he might have been partially successful. So under a false name, Sir Ronald arranges for a hunting invitation from the Count, and off we go by carriage through a dark journey of storm and howling wolves to the Count's castle. It's a hulking mass of stone turrets and corridors, shadowy stairways, huge fireplaces...and creepy passages that lead to dank dungeon cells, a torture chamber and a great pit filled with snapping, thrashing crocodiles. It also is filled by the Count's lovely, blond, sensitive wife, Elga (Paula Corday, who sometimes is billed as Rita Corday), and by the Count's two close friends played by those two actors we know from the Fifties who specialized in being slime in costume, John Hoyt and Michael Ansara. There is a dangerous leopard hunt, forbidden kisses, knuckling servants, wooden signs creaking and swaying in the cold wind and poison in a cup. Not the least, Doctor Meissen (Karloff) has a special vial filled with a drug which will so slow the bodily functions that death will seem to have occurred. The risk is that...well, when the person awakes ten hours later, he'd better hope he's not already nailed shut in his coffin. Surprisingly, for all the clichés, The Black Castle keeps moving merrily along. The movie takes itself seriously, but it's competently enough made to keep our interest, even if we wind up sitting back with a smile while we watch. It's even reassuring in a way to realize there are strong echoes of The Most Dangerous Game. When Burton realizes just how crazy von Bruno is, he becomes even more determined to bring von Bruno to accounts. And, naturally, he has fallen for Elga. von Bruno, crazed by vengeance yet crafty and capable, is a man who loves the hunt and is engorged by the kill. Hollywood's second creative rule has always been, "If you're going to steal, steal from the best." It's first creative rule, of course, is "If you're going to steal, steal from the best and then turn it into liverwurst." The Black Castle is a nice bite of Austrian braunschweiger.