The story of Satanism, revenge, incest, torture, and genocide doesn’t seem like much of a crowd pleasing horror story. Yet in the hands of famed cult director Edgar G. Ulmer (Detour), and starring horror icons Bela Lugosi and Boris Karloff (In their first of many on-screen pairings) it is an easier pill to swallow. It was done magnificently in the 1934 when the director and stars made the Universal film The Black Cat. Although it takes inspiration from the Edgar Allan Poe short story, it doesn’t have much in common with the source material. Rather Ulmer and screenwriter Peter Ruig conconcted an original film based on revenge which plays like a perverse version of The Count of Monte Cristo.
In the film, Lugosi plays Dr. Vitus Werdegast, a survivor of a WWI prison camp, where over 10,000 of his fellow soldiers were slaughtered. He has come to get his revenge on the man responsible for all of it: Hjalmar Poelzig (Karloff). Poelzig has built a mansion on top of the graves of all the men he has killed. He has also married Vitus’ wife who died years earlier, yet is in encased in an upright glass casket as if in suspended animation. Poelzig’s whole house and its design is a monument for evil, each room representing a different aspect of his the misdeeds and horror he has inflicted. This article will discuss how the art design in the film enhances the sadistic persona of Poelzig, and how it is used in the film to create an atmosphere of death.
A MODERNIST TOMB
The Black Cat owes very much to the early German expressionst films, which is where Ulmer got his start apprenticing for F.W. Murnau. We can see the inspiration for exaggerated sets in the film giving it a very moder, almost futuristic appeal. One look at Karloff’s entry way in the film and you you can sense the direct influence of Fritz Lang’s Metropolis. Yet the set in The Black Cat, offers very psychological underpinnings.
There is a coldness and detachment to the design, almost like a living tomb. The setting is bereft of life save for the people in it. The black and white cinematography actually enhances this aspect giving in to the lifelessness of color. Karloff himself walks around other worldly as if from another planet. His precise widow’s peak of hair and his dark robe give him an almost alien complexion. In contrast, Lugosi (surprisingly) looks downright normal, with his button down suit and manner. Only his hungarian accent and exaggerated line readings hint at his haunted motives.
Yet this modernist building is ironic in how it stands above dead bodies from the past. Beneath it is a mass grave, and the bodies buried are there because of Poelzig. Therefore, we can see how the modern high-rise is a perversion as it was literally built upon the bones of the dead. Not only that but it can be seen as a celebration for their death.
THE DEPTHS OF DESPAIR
Underneath the modern high-rise, we see a much more sinister picture in Poelzig’s literal dungeon. There isn’t another name for it, for where else can you find prison cells with a revolving door, torture chambers, as well as a spiraling staircase going down. In some ways it recalls the catacombs of the French opera house where Lon Chaney’s Phantom of the Opera dwelled. Yet here we see the true self of Polzig real itself. It is down in the sarcophagus of the building away from prying eyes. Here we see his greatest evil creation, which is the resting place of Vitus’ wife.
In an earily beautiful image, we see the wife (who Polzig probably killed) in a glass casket up against a wall, floating. Even her hair defies gravity. She stands erect like an idol, covered in white, yet the image is another perversion of innocence. Polzig is using her image as a torture device for Vitus, driving him more into insanity. There is the possibility that Polzig and Vitus both loved her, yet here she is seen as a natural violation, no longer living, and more objectified than ever.
THE CROOKED CROSS
The most blatant perversion comes in the form of Polzig’s reveal of being a Satan worshipper. Here we are given a room which plays like the antithesis of a chapel. Polzig’s mininons gather around prepared for a human sacrifice. They are surrouned by various images of an “X”. This being a pre-code film, it never has to pretend with the imagery. It’s a clear defacement of the christian symbol, bringing Polzig’s evil monument to full circle.
Everything we have seen up until now has all pointed to this. It no longer has to mask the notions, which up until now have only been in our minds. Also even though, this was a pre- World War II film, the subject of genocide and defiling of a religious symbol is more potent in a world which has lived through Nazi Germany. Perhaps it’s not too far-fetched to suggest Ulmer was seeing a turning of the tide in world events as Hitler had just been named Germany’s Chancellor only a year before this film was released.
The Black Cat is a film that has lived on as an underrated classic for years. It’s an anomaly from the Universal Horror films in that it’s only meant as a one-off, though it was highly successful upon release. Looking at it today, it remains a strange, though very dark, film. The look of the film remains unique as does the truly twisted story. It forms an unforgettable picture of the true nature of evil.
Discover more from Filmotomy
Subscribe to get the latest posts sent to your email.
