Glass House Presents

Invisibility has long fascinated filmgoers harkening back to 1931 when Universal director James Whale opted to follow-up his classic production of Frankenstein with a cinematic adaptation of British author H.G. Wells’ tremendously popular novel The Invisible Man starring then unknown Claude Rains.

A series of predictable and unremarkable sequels followed culminating with the Transparent One having a not altogether successful run-in with comedians Bud Abbot and Lou Costello. Other non-Universal Invisible Men also showed up through the years from competing film companies including The Body Disappears and The Amazing Transparent Man up to the recent Hollow Man with Kevin Bacon. There were even three separate TV series built around an invisible protagonist. Not surprising then that the popular gimmick of invisibility would eventually wind up in a cliffhanger as a central theme (invisibility had already been explored briefly in other serials such as Flash Gordon) in the 1950s The Invisible Monster produced by Republic and directed by Fred C. Brannon with a script by Ronald Davidson.

This character (portrayed by the always slightly creepy Stanley Price), never referenced in the script as The Invisible Monster, is actually referred to as The Phantom Ruler (or P.R. for short as when his lackeys call him over the car radio—“Calling P.R.”). He’s a bad guy customer, who has perfected a beam (which when trained on a chemically treated costume makes him look something like a Muslim woman) of his own design that renders him invisible. Problem is the beam in question must be aimed at him via a kind of spotlight (and in fact, the thing is indeed nothing more than a modified studio light) controlled by one of his thuggish accomplices. This rather limits The Phantom Ruler’s movements. One would think his anonymity was in jeopardy, after all being followed around all the time by a guy in a truck with a huge spotlight is kind of a giveaway, but I guess this was a work in progress.

In any case, The Phantom Ruler’s intent is to finance the creation of an army of invisible soldiers. To accumulate funds he must commit a lot of local crimes, burglaries, robberies and such, and is aided not only by his henchmen, Lane Bradford and John Crawford, but by four illegal European immigrants (sans any discernable accents) whose professional skills he requires for his heists and who he is blackmailing into aiding his cause. Richard Webb, whose signature role was just around the corner when he took the lead in the early TV series Captain Midnight (’54), appears here as ace insurance investigator Lane Carson out to solve the series of crimes created by The Phantom Ruler and his minions. For most of the serial, however, he hasn’t a clue regarding the invisibility factor, thinking these are just routine thefts. Webb’s a bit on the stiff and disinterested side—even for a one-dimensional serial hero—and doesn’t seem to have a great deal of enthusiasm for the role as he seemed to when he later played Midnight, but he’s physically acceptable. Backing him up, and I mean this literally as far as lots of the action goes, is pistol-packing Aline Towne as Carol Richards, his assistant even though they get off to a rocky start when he questions her involvement (“Isn’t that a rather unusual job for a woman?”).

While during the various slugfests, she usually ends up being knocked out, she is more than ready, willing and able to join in when lead is being traded and is often seen backing up Webb with her revolver. Towne was a likable, pretty and capable actress who appeared in numerous Republic serials in the dying days of the cliffhanger. Other members of the cast include stuntmen extraordinaire Dale Van Sickel, Tom Steele and Dave Sharpe as well as John Crawford, George Meeker, Marshall Reed, Ed Parker, Bud Wolfe and (uncredited) John Hamilton, TV’s Perry White, as one of the blackmailed immigrants.

The Invisible Monster, like so many serials produced during the waning days of the serial, is no more formulaic than any other late cliffhanger—relying on lots of stock footage from earlier chapter-plays, some of it not matching terribly well—yet there is something tired and particularly arthritic about it. Everyone seems to just be going through the motions knowing the fate of this sort of entertainment was a foregone conclusion.

Fred C. Brannon could be a competent if pedestrian helmsmen, but this time around there’s little energy or pizzazz coming through. Everything is as predictable as an I Love Lucy repeat. It’s serviceable at best and downright boring most of the other time. A real Invisible Monster might have spruced up things a bit, but I’m afraid only a bit.

October 2008

CliffHanger Commentary:

‘Zorro’s Black Whip’

By Bruce Dettman

You have to wonder what Johnston McCulley thought—if he thought anything at all—about Republics’ third Zorro cliffhanger outing, ‘44’s Zorro’s Black Whip. Since McCulley was, at best, an entertaining pulp writer, albeit a prolific one, the creator of Old California’s masked Robin Hood was probably overjoyed to see new royalties roll in, yet it still must have been odd for him to note what strange things were happening to his original creation. Of course, in reality, nothing was happening to his creation because, title and credit acknowledgements aside, Zorro is not present in this serial. He is not mentioned a single time. Instead, the hero is a masked character called The Whip, killed in the line of duty in the first chapter, mourned by his spunky sister Barbara who decides to carry on the family tradition (luckily not only does the same suit fit them both but, for reasons never fully explained, she is devilishly proficient with a gun, whip and horse) and wages war against those forces out to deny 1889 Idaho statehood.

Now this serial was made long before women became commonplace as gun-toting, karate chopping heroines in the cinema. You had a few exceptions like Wonder Woman, Mary Marvel and Sheena in the comics but, for the most part, strapping on a six-shooter and tangling directly with males was new terrain for the so-called fair sex. Little boys of the period probably were not overly crazy about this role reversal though I’ll wager those fathers who escorted their offspring to Saturday matinees probably didn’t mind all that much. In any case, Republic was lucky in this casting of the unique role to have serial star Linda Stirling under contract because, in all honesty, a lot of actresses probably couldn’t have carried it off (although I wouldn’t have minded seeing Adrian Booth give it a try).

Linda, beautiful, tall and athletic—and helped by a lot of excellent stunt work—played it straight and heroically and pulled it off fairly well. Of course, suspension of belief is a big part in viewing any cliffhanger, but I must say credulity is stretched even further than usual when the cast of villains (guys like John Merton and Hal Taliaferro) are totally oblivious to the fact The Whip emerges after Chapter One with a noticeably more provocative wiggle and form, even after, in some instances, they physically tussle with her. All this aside, Black Whip, energetically directed by the team of Spencer Gordon Bennet and Wallace Grissell, can be quite entertaining, and not just because of Linda wielding that black whip or the myopia on the part of the bad guys.

There’s a lot of good action sequences and chapter endings (thanks in no small measure to Yakima Canutt’s second unit work), even if some of the footage is redundant, culled from earlier Zorro outings, and too often features the western cliffhanger staple of our heroes unconscious in wagons plunging over cliffs. George J. Lewis, usually seen in villainous roles in serials (and later in life as Guy William’s father in Disney TV’s Zorro), provides the muscle when Linda needs it (and who gets slugged over the head in nearly every episode). The cast also includes such stalwarts as a pre-Superman John Hamilton, Tom London, Duke Green, Francis McDonald, and stuntmen/actors Tom Steele and Dale Van Sickel.

It’s not a great serial, by any means, but it’s and entertaining one and, at times, a good deal of fun, the most important ingredient of any cliffhanger.

September 2008

Secret Service in Darkest Africa

By Bruce Dettman

I don’t think I’m giving away state secrets when I admit I don’t watch serials for their depth of plot and/or characterization or their political correctness, in fact, quite the contrary. I watch serials so the kid still lurking around in this 58-year-old body has a therapeutic release from the escalating depressiveness, insane pace and moral dankness of modern life. Personally, I take great satisfaction in the fact that although I love history, literature, classical music and politics, I can still get wrapped up in a Wild Bill Elliot western, and old Superman TV episode, A Daffy Duck cartoon or yes, a ‘Republic’ cliffhanger. As far as I’m concerned, this keeps me (relatively) sane—and I bet I’m not alone in this. Which brings me to Secret Service in Darkest Africa…

When I was a kid in the 50s, World War II was just around the corner, still fresh on people’s minds—that is when they weren’t thinking of ‘Wonder Bread,’ ‘Commies,’ ‘Lucille Ball’ and buying affordable tract homes—and it was pretty hard to escape reminders of it, not only in the classroom, but in movies on TV and in stories told by relatives and friends who survived, or relations of those who didn’t. On top of this there were neighborhood garages where, hanging next to hack saws and garden gloves, were canteens from agonizing days on Tarawa and field packs from dusty marches in Sicily. In my own home, my uncle had given my older brother the shell of a hand grenade (great paperweight) and a bayonet he ‘removed’ from a Japanese soldier in New Guinea. World War II was just like the ‘Wild West’ for me, an arena of obvious good guys (us) and even more obvious bad guys (them).

Behind our house, in a wonderful rock quarry, I did my 10 year-old best with my plastic Mattel helmet, a replica of an M-1 and a gas mask from a Army surplus store to keep alive the memory of ‘Guadalcanal’ and ‘Wake Island.’ Movies helped too, and not only the splashy, big budgeted stuff like ‘Sands of Iwo Jima’ or ‘Guadalcanal Diary’ either. Hollywood serials wasted little time in getting into the action as well, with Spy Smasher to Secret Code and King of the Texas Rangers chapter plays turning to the war effort for inspiration. Secret Service in Darkest Africa starring Rod Cameron as Rex Bennett (the second of two times he would play the character) is my favorite World War II cliffhanger. Cameron was tall and as square-jawed as a Chester Gould drawing, had the acting range of an umbrella stand, but was solid and no-nonsense and you believed his earnestness. He had knocked around Hollywood for years as a stuntman and later graduated to action parts, particularly westerns. Eventually he appeared in several TV cop shows that (hopefully) made him rich. I also read that later in life he divorced his wife and married her mother which, I think speaks volumes about his real life courage.

There’s not a great deal of plot to ‘Secret Service’ which, for the record, has to do with Bennett, and American secret agent, trying to curtail Nazi attempts to win over Arab support of their war effort. But boy is there action, much of it a good deal uglier and grittier than your usual standard serial fare (villains die almost every episode) since we were in a real shooting war at the time and a lot of regular cinema rules went out the window. As far as the fist fights, I don’t recall ever seeing quite so much furniture broken up in any other cliffhanger (the plywood bill on this one must been staggering) and director Spencer Gordon Bennet, along with his stunt crew, really devise some lengthy and wonderfully choreographed brawls (often employing first person viewpoints reminiscent of later 3D setups). The action only pauses on occasion for a bit of dialog and then we’re right back into the thick of it. The cliffhangers are wonderfully choreographed and initiated (thanks again to the Lydeckers and some great exploding model work). I particularly enjoyed the booby-trapped gravesites in Chapter Four. For some reason, there’s an awful lot of horsemanship involved as Rex gallops through the supposed African countryside (which looks about as much like Africa as Harlem does Salt Lake City) in pursuit of the Nazis and their Arab co-conspirators. Rex often ignores his pistol in favor of a sword, not always the smartest move, but it paves the way for some athletic dueling scenes.

Backings up Cameron in the cast are Joan Marsh, whose one spunky gal, as fast with a glib line directed at her captors as a shot from the revolver which she uses to full and lethal advantage. Duncan Renaldo is Rex’s staunch and always reliable French comrade and the heavies are an impressive bunch which include Kurt Kreuger—who made a career out of playing blonde Aryans during the period—Frederic Brunn, Sigurd Tor and, in a dual role, Lionel Royce as the kidnapped Sultan (no one ever spent more time shackled to a wall) and his Nazi impersonator. Mort Glickman’s score isn’t quite as memorable here, no standout theme you can come away humming, but you certainly can’t fault Bennet for keeping things moving. The thrills pile up as quickly as the bodies.

August 2008

G-Men Vs.

The Black Dragon

By Bruce Dettman

One of my great disappointments as a kid watching cliffhangers was that Republic never made a sequel to ‘Mysterious Dr. Satan’ featuring my favorite hero, the Copperhead. Instead, much to my parent’s distress, I had to settle for creating a backyard version where I rigged my own bargain-basement—but occasionally dangerous—chapter endings (“Bruce, get away from your father’s power tools and why are you wearing your rain hood in the summer?”).

In point of fact, most serial characters did not have encores although there were certainly exceptions (Zorro, the Lone Ranger, Dick Tracy, Jesse James and Superman being a few of those who immediately come to mind). I suspect, as in the cases of Captain Marvel, the Phantom and Fu Manchu, copyright and legal issues often had something to do with this, but just try and explain this to a 10 year-old kid hot to see his idol up on the screen again. One character that did return to fight again was Rex Bennett who was featured in two Republic outings, ‘Secret Service in Darkest Africa’ and in his debut offering ‘G-Men Vs. The Black Dragon’ (both ’43).

Bennett, described as being an American Special Investigator, was played in both by Rod Cameron. The only difference between the two performances is that, in the first, Rex sports a suit and in the second a military uniform, Although occasionally assuming villainous roles in his long career in action and outdoor films—most of them westerns—Cameron, a man of few words, was born to play heroes what with his granite-like jaw-line, handsome features, dark curly hair and impressive height. Moreover, there was something unflinching and resolute about Cameron’s tight-lipped heroes. When he said something you could usually take it to the bank. He was not a guy to mess with or take lightly, a quality which served him well in his two serials.

The plot for ‘G-Men,’ set in World War II, is fairly predictable and straightforward with Rex, his Chinese secret agent pal Chang (Roland Got) and British agent Vivian Marsh (Constance Worth) trying to disrupt the activities of Japan’s Black Dragon Society led by Haruchi (Nino Pipitone) who has been smuggled into America (in a mummy case, no less) to inflict havoc for the Axis cause. Director William Witney, sans his old pal John English, went it alone this time and turned in a rugged, action-packed, nicely paced and often ingenious cliffhanger heavy on patriotic resolve and no-nonsense retribution against America’s enemies. Along with the exciting chapter endings and breakneck pacing, there’s a good cast as well. I very much enjoyed Constance Worth (in her only serial appearance) as British agent Vivian Marsh. She brought something rarely evidenced in serial heroines, maturity, polish and even a kind of edgy sexuality. She played in the role like a grownup, no wide-eyed “Gee whiz stuff” and even handled herself pretty well cuddling a machine gun.

Nino Pipitone as Haruchi is properly sinister, just over the top enough with his maniacal villainy and stereotypical Japanese mannerisms for serial fans of that era to really hate. Roland Got as Rex’s buddy Chang is acceptable though I would have preferred Keye Luke in the role. Others in the cast include Noel Cravat and George J. Lewis as the henchmen, Donald Kirke, Maxine Doyle (real life wife of director Witney), Ivan Miller and the redoubtable C. Montaue Shaw. Although I harbor a slight preference for the second Rex Bennett serial (I think it’s all those nifty sword fights), this is still a remarkably feisty, high energy effort with lots to recommend it. The cliffhangers are well handled, the stunts ingeniously choreographed, Mort Glickman’s music properly stirring for a war serial. My only complaint—a mild one at that—for some reason it was more obvious than normal Tom Steele was standing in for Cameron in the fight scenes. I wouldn’t have minded a third Rex Bennett outing but it was not to be. World War II ended and so did old Rex. Glad to have him on our side when we did though.

July 2008

The Mysterious Doctor Satan

By Bruce Dettman

Whenever someone mentions the fact that serial helmsman extraordinaire William Witney apparently considered the 1940 Republic serial ‘The Mysterious Dr. Satan’ to be a ‘stinker’ and one of his lesser directorial efforts, I remind myself George Orwell wrote ‘1984’ in a hurry, solely for the purpose of making a quick buck and apparently also didn’t think much of the finished product. Undoubtedly, lots of folks would take a dim view of my comparing a classic novel with a low budget serial, but in this case I am not referring to the end result as much as the creator’s intimate relation to it. Whatever Witney’s reasons for taking such a dim and critical view of ‘Satan,’ there are a lot of serial aficionados, myself included, who view ‘Mysterious Dr. Satan’ as one of Republic’s finest chapter plays. As a matter of fact, it still remains my favorite serial of all time, a preference I’ll readily concede has much to do with my initial adolescent introduction to it, and introduction marinated in intense juvenile romanticism. Yet a recent viewing has only further cemented my deep affection and admiration for its many sterling qualities.

As is now common knowledge, ‘The Mysterious Dr. Satan’ was initially intended to feature Superman, then a neophyte to the big screen. Thus far the Man of Steel’s only film appearance had been as an animated character in a series of stellar Max Fleischer cartoons produced by Paramount. Republic, noting the growing popularity of the character, wanted in fast. Somehow, negotiations broke down – money problems apparently being the key factor – and the deal soured. There are lots of stories regarding this history. One often cited that the original character of Dr. Satan, later emerging as a pin-striped, continental criminal mastermind, was originally conceived with actual costumed devil horns and was to be played by Henry Brandon who did such a good job as Fu Manchu for the studio. This was not to be however, and while suggestions of Superman saga can certainly be spotted (a girl reporter named Lois, as an example) writers Franklyn Adreon, Ronald Davidson, Norman Hill, Joseph Poland and Sol Shor set out to create a new storyline and set of characters. What they came up with was a new version of Dr. Satan, sans Superman, a malevolent sophisticate with old-world charm and a desire to take over the globe with an army of robots.

For 15 action-filled chapters two things stand in his way, perfecting a long-distance device capable of controlling his metallic army (of one), and a masked hero called ‘The Copperhead.’ One wonders if originally the serial’s creators thought of making ‘The Copperhead’ some sort of super hero like Krypton’s favorite son, but in the end opted against it (why, as an example, does he decide to scale the outside of a downtown high-rise rather than using the elevator or even stairs—had the original utilized a flying hero at this point?) No, ‘The Copperhead is all flesh and blood, a tough character, but human all the way. He is, in fact, Bob Wayne, a young man who learns in the first chapter from his soon to be murdered guardian, the governor of the state, that his real father was a controversial figure from the old west, a misunderstood night rider known as ‘The Copperhead’ who righted wrongs wearing a distinct mask to conceal his identity. No sooner has he digested this rather startling news than Dr. Satan’s minions kill the governor. Bob, wishing to both redeem his real father’s reputation and revenge the murder, sets out to find and punish the crazed scientist, adopting the identity of ‘The Copperhead’ when necessary.

Interestingly enough, the censors originally had a bit of a problem with revenge being the only motivating factor in Bob’s pursuit of Satan which is why in the revised script he is deputized by the authorities to take part in the official government manhunt. Casting has for a long time now been the big bugaboo when fans of serials have debated the merits of this cliffhanger. For many years the critics, who otherwise heaped heavy praise on much of it, were nearly unanimous in disliking Robert Wilcox as Bob Wayne. They invariably used the words “dull” and “bland” to describe him although bestowing great praise on the athletic achievements of his alter ego ‘The Copperhead (stuntman Dave Sharpe was never more impressive than in this serial with his astounding leaps, a favorite being when he hurls himself through a window into a subterranean basement, only his curly hair, as opposed to Wilcox’s straight locks, giving him away at times). However, things have shifted in the last couple of years with Wilcox’s less theatrical, more realistically grim and sober style becoming more popular with fans. Moreover, the first scene where he learns of the identity of his biological father in, thanks to the actor’s sincere line delivery and earnest reaction, genuinely was moving, something rare in a serial.

Equally impressive, if not more so, is Eduardo Ciannelli in the title role. Like Bob Wayne, Dr. Satan practices a subdued and contained style of communication and expression. With his continental accent—some of his lines delivered almost in the hissing style of a serpent—and charming manners he is the epitome of the cultured but deadly villain. Others in the cast include Ella Neal as Lois (a dead ringer for Lois Lane in her early comic book incarnations); the always solid C. Montaqgue Shaw as scientist Scott; William Newell as Speed Martin, Bob’s photographer buddy’ Charles Trowbridge as the slain governor; plus the likable Jack Mulhall and Dorothy Herbert, the latter a champion horsewoman of the period (who, as Lois’ pal Alice, does some remarkable things astride her steed in the early chapters, then practically and inexplicably disappears from the action). Ciannelli’s men include tope henchman Walter McGrail as Stoner, who gleefully follows his boss’s orders, Bud Geary, Ken Terrell and Al Taylor. Rumor has it stuntman Tom Steele was the robot. A key ingredient that makes ‘The Mysterious Dr. Satan’ so effective and memorable cannot, however, be found in a masked hero, a killer robot or even a wonderfully mad scientist, but rather in the overall mood and evocative style and design of the serial. Regardless of what directors William Witney or even John English might have come away thinking of this cliffhanger, it remains one of the most atmospherically charged of chapter plays. In music (Mort Glickman producing one of the most memorable serial scores), lighting, camera work and low-key performances it delivers an atmosphere wonderfully charged with the threat of danger and intrigue. I can think of no other serial that is quite so nourish in style and execution. Yet for all of this it is also a rambunctious, kinetic and spry adventure filled with great moments of athleticism, terrific cliffhangers and daring do.

For me it is everything I love about serials rolled into one glorious 15 chapter ensemble; a terrific villain, a mysterious hero, damsels to save, non-stop action, great stunts, cliffhangers and an outrageous plot. Oh yeah, a classic if a bit feeble robot too. What more could a serial fan ask for except perhaps a good popcorn fix?

From 1997 through 2008 when it ceased publication, SERIAL REPORT MAGAZINE, edited by Boyd Magers, regularly published a quarterly column by Bruce Dettman in which he reviewed motion pictures serials.

Glass House Presents thanks Boyd for permitting us to reprint these writings on the great motion picture cliffhangers that entertained audiences for nearly forty years.

Boyd is one of the recognized experts on the motion picture western. Please visit his website at www.westernclippings.com/

July 2008

In Retrospect

TAC: Dettman's Documents

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