This is the original film, apparently thought lost until a recent restoration, on which the more famous Vincent Price House of Wax from the 50s was based. It's made in an early version of Technicolor that seems to involve only two colors and which seems to give a slight 3D effect (at least, that's what my brain was telling me in the opening shot that panned over figures in the wax museum). It's a pretty good little 30s horror film, with a very good victim-turned-villain (Lionel Atwill as Ivan Igor (pronounced as in Young Frankenstein)) and a very entertaining sassy reporter caricature (Glenda Farrell as Florence) as the heroine. In fact, the tone of those two actors is rather at odds: Atwill plays it super straight, as one should in a horror film, whereas Farrell seems to think she's in a screwball comedy, a kind of low-rent version of The Front Page. How you feel about this film will probably depend on whether you find her grating or not. It's a little odd that she's listed second behind Fay Wray (who confused me by being the brunette of the two, as I think of her as the blonde in King Kong) because Wray has very little to do except be in peril at the climax (and then unleash a few of her patented screams). I think most people have an idea of the main premise, but here's a sketch: the film starts on a stormy night in London in 1921, where Atwill is initially annoyed to be interrupted while sculpting in his Wax Museum, but then delighted because it's a friend wishing to show his work to an influential figure who, having seen his remarkably lifelike figures
(all historical tableau, he is most proud of his Voltaire [with whom he admits to having long conversations, a worrying sign] and especially his beautiful Marie Antoinette) leaves the delighted Igor with a promise to recommend him for the Royal Academy. But, lurking outside this whole time is a cigar-smoking villain, Igor's financial partner, who comes in complaining that the museum is losing money (because Igor insists on all this fancy stuff instead of the Chamber of Horrors stuff that the rival wax museum (did Madame Tussaud's already exist?) is cleaning up with, but that he has the perfect solution: burn the place down for the insurance! Igor is understandably outraged (although he also seems to be under the impression that his wax creations are actually alive, so is perhaps even more outraged than is warranted) but Joe Worth (for that is the cigar-smoker's name) lights a piece of paper and in the ensuing tussle, fire breaks out all over. Worth knocks Igor down and then locks him in from the outside. Igor recovers but when last we see him he is surrounded by flames as his beautiful creations all melt like the head of a Nazi opening the Ark of the Covenant. A pretty gripping opening sequence. Suddenly we cut to a snowy New Year's 1933 (I think it's starting, not ending, but it's not clear), in New York, 12 years later. An ambulance cuts through the throng and a body is loaded on to it. The EMTs tell the reporters that it's a suicide. We see a face that looks like Igor watching out of a window. And then we cut to Florence sashaying into her editor's office (at the "New York Express") and being told that unless she comes up with a story she's fired. There's a lot of hard-boiled dialog snapping back and forth that sounds pretty close to an invented parody of Jazz-age slang, but that's just how they roll. She goes out in search of one and visits a police station where she is clearly viewed fondly by the old (Irish, natch) cops, one of whom tells her that there's a suspicion that the society gadabout Joan Gale whose body it was we saw earlier was probably not a suicide, and her recently ex-fiance, wealthy scion George Winton, has been hauled in under suspicion of knocking her off. Delighted at the chance of a story, Florence dashes off to jail, where she is quickly convinced both of Winton's innocence and his suitability as her route out of poverty.
Cut to her later in a bed in an attic apartment while her roommate, Charlotte Duncan (Fay Wray), exercises and listens disapprovingly to Florence's mercenary marriage plans. Coincidentally, Charlotte has a boyfriend who works for... Ivan Igor. Yes, he survived the fire, but is now confined to a wheelchair, and his hands are now just immobile claws, so he has to get others to do his work. However, with the help of an expert assistant Dr. Rasmussen (who is strangely disheveled) (he has nothing but scorn for Charlotte's boyfriend Ralph), he has almost finished recreating all those historical tableau. All he needs now is Marie Antoinette. And guess what? When Charlotte visits Ralph, Igor sees that she is the spitting image of his Marie Antoinette. (Just like a respected Judge who has strangely gone missing bore a remarkable resemblance to his Voltaire.)
Well, Florence investigates, and Joan Gale's body has been stolen from the morgue! And somehow a bootlegger is involved (George's, it so happens, and he is remarkably free about talking about him in front of the cops) and oh look, it's our old friend Joe Worth. And there's a strange hideously disfigured individual moving coffins around in the bootlegger's basement. And Rasmussen is caught emerging from that building. And what's with Igor's creepy assistants (besides Ralph, of course)?
And how is the wax museum going to do any better here NY than it did in London? And how is Igor able to afford this huge property in central NY City with the biggest basement you ever saw, complete with bubbling cauldron of wax? Well, watch it and see. You won't regret it: the sets are good, the villain is great, Fay Wray can scream like nobody's business,
and Florence manages to get married in the end.
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