The Cat and the Canary was made in a period when Carl Laemmle was filling his studio with imported, and predominantly German, talent. It was handed to Paul Leni as his first American assignment, following years in Germany as a set designer (Variety, Manon Lescaut) and as a director (Waxworks). Universal has always been Hollywood's stronghold of horror movies. Even though their "Golden Age" was between 1929 and 1934, the studio still maintains the tradition, somewhat superficially it must be admitted, in such current films as Monster on the Campus. Thus it is no surprise that The Cat and the Canary is so slickly done. One of what we may loosely term the "old house" school of thrillers, its action is restricted and its effect is dependent more upon atmosphere than upon sensationalism. It was a type of horror film that was better suited to the more methodically paced silent film than it was to the talkies. Like THE BAT and THE GORILLA (which were also made once as a silent, remade twice as talkies) it was a stage derivation, and one with a marked comedy content, but it remains thrilling and gripping fare for all that.

If the script is thoroughly American, then the handling of it certainly shows the influence of Leni's German background. The lighting and camerawork throughout have been patterned after that of Warning Shadows and other classic German fantasies of the early 20's. The impressionistic opening after the main titles is still one of the most effective establishing sequences ever put on film; and the imagery of the clock striking prior to the reading of the will is a telling piece of cinema. The Germanic influence is further in evidence in the character of the doctor, played by Lucien Littlefield. His makeup is a startling and obvious composite of Dr. Caligari and Murnau's Dracula. And The Cat and the Canary was by no means without influence itself, especially in the early 30's. The wonderful moving camera shots down deserted corridors and past billowing drapes were duplicated many times, most specifically in The 13th Guest (with a very similar plot) and James Whale's The Old Dark House -- this latter one of Universal's best sound horror films.

It must be admitted that the film doesn't survive the years quite as well as the earlier German films whose style it resembles. This is not so much due to any defects in the film itself as to the fact that the film is really a "blueprint" of its species. The format has been repeated so many times since, the sliding panels and clutching hands (later abetted by the inevitable scared negro manservant a la Willie Best) degenerating through the years into such limp and casual clichés, that the original doesn't now have quite the punch that it had in 1927. Warning Shadows and the other German films of its period may have had a great deal of influence (i.e., Universal's 1932 Murders in the Rue Morgue was quite carefully patterned after much of The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari) but there was little outright imitation, and none at all outside of their own era. Thus there was no time for familiarity and degeneration to set in, and the films, on their own merits, remain as effective as ever. The Cat and the Canary, succeeded by over 30 years of not only straightforward imitations, but also many lampoons at the hands of Bob Hope, Abbott and Costello, Martin & Lewis, Brown and Carney and others, is at a distinct disadvantage. A possible minor flaw too, is the lack of strong personalities in the principal leads. It is the supporting players - Siegmann, Tully Marshall, Lucien Littlefield - who attract all the attention, both by their performances and by their part in the sinister proceedings. Beautiful Laura La Plante is as appealing as ever as the heroine, but her lively sense of fun is not utilised, and she serves no purpose other than being the pivot around which the mystery revolves. And Creighton Hale as the bungling, slightly oafish but good-natured hero seems to be a victim of too literal type-casting, merely repeating the performances he gave under Griffith in Way Down East and Orphans of the Storm. It is those Griffith and Stroheim reliab1es - Siegmann and Marshall, who pilfer all the scenes in which they appear. (One of the reasons for the continued punch of The Old Dark House is its strong cast of top-notch players -- Karloff, Laughton, Douglas, Massey, Thesiger). With stronger lead players, The Cat and the Canary might stand the time test a little better. Not that it needs any kind of apology. It is still a fascinating, important and thoroughly cinematic film; we make the above qualifying statements only to stress that the cards have been rather stacked against it through the years.

Cat has been remade twice: once by Universal in 1930, as The Cat Creeps, with Rupert Julien directing and Neil Hamilton and Helen Twelvetrees starring; and again by Paramount in 1939, with Elliot Nugent directing Bob Hope, Paulette Goddard, Douglass Montgomery and George Zucco. Although made by a different company, this last version also showed signs of having been carefully patterned after Leni's original, with many shots duplicated in detail.

In addition to the players already mentioned, it is worth calling attention to Arthur Edmund Carewe, whose striking and sinister face made him a natural for horror subjects (usually as a red herring) in the 20’s & 30's - among them Chaney's Phantom of the Opera and one of the very best of the early sound chillers, Mystery of the Wax Museum. Also seen in a minor role at the end is Joe Murphy, once the Andy Gump of earlier silent comedies. The striking and atmospheric camerawork is that of Gilbert Warrenton, later to become one of the most prolific photographers of "B" westerns, and still very active doing television series and cheap quickies for American International.

THE CAT AND THE CANARY has a curious history. This print is one that I first played at my film society in London back in 1945. In later years, another collector managed to bring it over to America, whereupon I re-acquired it. But in the interim a number of key scenes had either been lifted or destroyed. These were then replaced by making dupes from an American print, and inserting these sections into the British print. It is now relatively complete, except for one or two comedy scenes with Creighton Hale which frankly one doesn't miss. There are some rather sudden splices here and there, with odd frames out, but no scenes or sequences other than the Hale footage referred to above, are missing. Of course there is a qualitative difference when the duped footage comes on.

WHITE ZOMBIE is a brand new print made from a negative that was already beginning to fade. The sound always WAS bad; and the battered negative didn't help it. In a small room with imperfect acoustics, it may not always come through well - so it'll be helped by a maximum of quiet from the audience. The print itself is complete except for one brief scene - Madge Bellamy standing in her lingerie. Possibly this scene was out because it was considered censorable for tv; or perhaps just because audiences always laughed at it. Anyway the print is otherwise complete and in fine shape.