having ‘tinkered’ Robby the Robot together.”
When they were settled into their seats, Markov gave a brief introduction.
“Lon made this during the shooting of London After Midnight. He shot it on one of the sets after everyone had gone home. He and Tod had long wanted to do Dracula. They had been very impressed by Murnau’s unauthorized version— Nosferatu .”
So were you, Quinn thought. You changed your name to Schreck and named your son Max. And your belief in destiny…. Had he adopted that belief after watching Nosferatu ? At the very beginning of the film, Harker is accosted by a man who tells him he cannot escape his destiny by running away….
“Max Schreck is unquestionably the creepiest Dracula,” Quinn said.
“Unquestionably. Tod and Lon wanted to make their version of Dracula much creepier, but since they couldn’t get the rights, London After Midnight was their rather watered-down attempt to do as much of it as they could get away with without getting sued. Lon’s sawtoothed vampire had scared people to death, but he wanted to come up with something that would outdo Schreck’s Nosferatu.”
“A tall order.”
“Indeed, but the Man of a Thousand Faces was the man for the job.” His hand went to his control panel. “Judge for yourself. This short was Lon working out some of his ideas to show Tod and the Laemmles, in case they ever got those rights. Without further ado, then.” He stabbed a button and the house lights went out.
As they stared at the black screen, a single shivery violin tremolo created an air of creeping menace. The opening titles slowly materialized, indistinguishable at first until they became stark white lettering on the black background:
THE UN-DEAD
A Lon Chaney Production
Written and Directed by Lon Chaney
Guest Appearance by…?
Sound by Douglas Shearer
Sound?
The first talkie, The Jazz Singer , had come out just before London After Midnight , but Browning’s film had been silent. And it couldn’t have been an accident that Chaney used Bram Stoker’s original title for Dracula . Chaney was known for thorough research that always included reading the literary sources for his projects, if there was one.
The title faded in on an opening shot of Chaney sitting in a director’s chair, smiling for the camera. Quinn had been prepared by the “Sound” credit, but it was still startling when Chaney opened his mouth and spoke with a mysterious-sounding, Eastern European accent that hinted at British:
“I am Lon Chaney. I bid you welcome.”
A sweeping hand gesture invited the viewer in. That shot dissolved into a long shot of a man in a cape with his back to the camera. He stood in the center of the study of the haunted estate from London After Midnight . Beside him, a wine glass half-filled with dark liquid sat on a table.
The man slowly began turning his head at the same time that the camera crept in for a close-up. When the face reached profile, the camera was still too far away to pick up any detail, but it was close enough to see that the face was deathly pale.
A sound like a groan of evil erupted from the speakers—the single sustained note of a cello. In the same instant, the man’s head whipped full front and the camera shot forward until his face filled the screen.
Quinn flinched and felt his heart pounding. After the initial jolt, the full horror of the face burrowed into him.
Chaney’s Dracula was more hideous than Max Schreck’s Nosferatu. Chaney had concocted a makeup that showed the putrid decay of death that lay just beneath a ghastly veneer of life. His vampire brilliantly captured the idea of a demonic creature from the netherworld between the living and the dead.
Bits of bone were visible under skin that looked thin and taut, as if unable to regenerate itself enough to completely cover the skull. Swollen veins zigzagged along each temple and both sides of the neck. He had taken the goggle-eyed effect from London After
When they were settled into their seats, Markov gave a brief introduction.
“Lon made this during the shooting of London After Midnight. He shot it on one of the sets after everyone had gone home. He and Tod had long wanted to do Dracula. They had been very impressed by Murnau’s unauthorized version— Nosferatu .”
So were you, Quinn thought. You changed your name to Schreck and named your son Max. And your belief in destiny…. Had he adopted that belief after watching Nosferatu ? At the very beginning of the film, Harker is accosted by a man who tells him he cannot escape his destiny by running away….
“Max Schreck is unquestionably the creepiest Dracula,” Quinn said.
“Unquestionably. Tod and Lon wanted to make their version of Dracula much creepier, but since they couldn’t get the rights, London After Midnight was their rather watered-down attempt to do as much of it as they could get away with without getting sued. Lon’s sawtoothed vampire had scared people to death, but he wanted to come up with something that would outdo Schreck’s Nosferatu.”
“A tall order.”
“Indeed, but the Man of a Thousand Faces was the man for the job.” His hand went to his control panel. “Judge for yourself. This short was Lon working out some of his ideas to show Tod and the Laemmles, in case they ever got those rights. Without further ado, then.” He stabbed a button and the house lights went out.
As they stared at the black screen, a single shivery violin tremolo created an air of creeping menace. The opening titles slowly materialized, indistinguishable at first until they became stark white lettering on the black background:
THE UN-DEAD
A Lon Chaney Production
Written and Directed by Lon Chaney
Guest Appearance by…?
Sound by Douglas Shearer
Sound?
The first talkie, The Jazz Singer , had come out just before London After Midnight , but Browning’s film had been silent. And it couldn’t have been an accident that Chaney used Bram Stoker’s original title for Dracula . Chaney was known for thorough research that always included reading the literary sources for his projects, if there was one.
The title faded in on an opening shot of Chaney sitting in a director’s chair, smiling for the camera. Quinn had been prepared by the “Sound” credit, but it was still startling when Chaney opened his mouth and spoke with a mysterious-sounding, Eastern European accent that hinted at British:
“I am Lon Chaney. I bid you welcome.”
A sweeping hand gesture invited the viewer in. That shot dissolved into a long shot of a man in a cape with his back to the camera. He stood in the center of the study of the haunted estate from London After Midnight . Beside him, a wine glass half-filled with dark liquid sat on a table.
The man slowly began turning his head at the same time that the camera crept in for a close-up. When the face reached profile, the camera was still too far away to pick up any detail, but it was close enough to see that the face was deathly pale.
A sound like a groan of evil erupted from the speakers—the single sustained note of a cello. In the same instant, the man’s head whipped full front and the camera shot forward until his face filled the screen.
Quinn flinched and felt his heart pounding. After the initial jolt, the full horror of the face burrowed into him.
Chaney’s Dracula was more hideous than Max Schreck’s Nosferatu. Chaney had concocted a makeup that showed the putrid decay of death that lay just beneath a ghastly veneer of life. His vampire brilliantly captured the idea of a demonic creature from the netherworld between the living and the dead.
Bits of bone were visible under skin that looked thin and taut, as if unable to regenerate itself enough to completely cover the skull. Swollen veins zigzagged along each temple and both sides of the neck. He had taken the goggle-eyed effect from London After
Similar Books
