Abbott & Costello Meet Frankenstein (1948)

Posted on Mar 17, 2004 under All reviews, Comedy, Horror |

Directed by Charles T. Barton
Written by Robert Lees, Frederic I. Rinaldo and John Grant
Starring
- Bud Abbott
- Lou Costello
- Lon Chaney Jr.
- Bela Lugosi
- Glenn Strange

By the time Bela Lugosi starred in the feature version of Dracula in 1931, he had already spent several years playing the character in the play in New York and on tour. He was sick of it. During the filming, he declared, “When I am through with this picture I hope never to hear of Dracula again!”

He almost kept his word. Though Dracula was his most famous role and haunted him to his death, he never played the character again — until he appeared in 1948 in this movie. Working a dozen years in Monogram’s “poverty row” productions had apparently softened his resolve. Do we detect here a softer Dracula, less imperious, more conciliatory and accommodating? Or am I reading too much into things?

“Hello, Lost and Found? Have you seen the rest of my tie? How about my waist?”

But I’m getting ahead of myself. This was the first of the movies pitting the famous comedians against a horror or suspense franchise. By the end of the pseudo-series (1955’s Abbott & Costello Meet the Mummy), it was pretty clear that these outings were a last ditch effort to wring the last few ticket sales from a series. (”Boy, this franchise is really getting stale. What should we do?” “Ah, let Bud and Lou finish it off.”) But the later entries might obscure how entertaining the first time really was. Abbott and Costello were themselves in a bit of a slump, and this movie almost single-handedly pumped twenty years of gas into their careers. And unlike the anemic later entries, this one brought three Universal horror characters together in one movie: Dracula, Frankenstein (yes, I know, it’s “Frankenstein’s monster,” thank you), and the Wolfman. Each was at best on his last legs, but the combination of so many half-full glasses resulted in overflowing entertainment. (Ye gods, if that isn’t the worst metaphor you read all week…)

Bud and Lou play Wilbur and Chick, two shipping clerks in Florida. Or rather, they play themselves under the names “Wilbur” and “Chick.” That is to say, they play their public comedic personas, but under the names of… Ah, skip it. They’re Wilbur and Chick. And their humdrum lives are about to have a date with destiny when they receive a call from London… from Larry Talbot (Lon Chaney Jr.)! He urges them to head off a couple of large crates destined for the McDougal House of Horrors, but before he can explain why, he catches sight of the full moon from his hotel room window… and begins his cursed change. (Why was he calling from London, you ask? Mostly so that he’d be able to call Wilbur and Chick during normal business hours and still transform mid-call.)

“Hey — you look just like my chiropractor!”

Of course, it’s normally discouraged for shipping companies to refuse to deliver paid-for goods for no reason, so Mr. McDougal (Frank Ferguson) promptly calls for his crates, proudly proclaiming them to be the greatest attractions ever for his House of Horrors — Dracula in his coffin, and the Frankenstein monster! (See, he knew what to call it.) And he arranges to have them delivered… at night.

Of course, the night delivery to a house of horrors is occasion for great comedic schtick, with Wilbur getting spooked at the wax figures and Chick giving him the eye-rolling dressing-down. And you just know, even if you’ve never seen it (shame on you, infidel!), that when the two monsters start creeping out of their crates and coffins, Wilbur’s going to see them, but by the time Chick responds to his frantic cries, Dracula and Frankenstein will have disappeared. Repeat half a dozen times for maximum effect. Yes, I know, it’s a gag that was probably old when the pyramids were being voted on in committee, but it still works.

“Use your own comb! I don’t want you shedding on mine!”

But wait, that’s not all! See, Wilbur has a girlfriend, Sandra (Lenore Aubert), who’s terribly interested in him… especially his head. Chick can’t figure out the attraction, but it all becomes clear to us when Sandra, aka Dr. Mornay, meets up with the revivified Dracula and starts puting more emphasis on her pseudo-German accent. She’s in cahoots with the Count to refurbish the Frankenstein monster by replacing his brain with one so empty, so pliable, that he’ll be putty in their hands. And Wilbur is their designated puttyhead.

And if one dame inexplicably in love with Lou Costello is funny, two is even funnier; so striking blonde Joan Raymond (Jane Randolph), investigator for the insurance company trying to track down the “missing” exhibits from the crates, latches on to Wilbur in the hopes of following him to the goods. (All while Chick looks on incredulously, wondering if all of the women in the world have gone mad.)

“Buy me dinner first!”

What really makes the whole thing sparkle is the pedigree of it all. In later entries in the series like Abbott & Costello Meet the Mummy and Abbott & Costello Meet the Invisible Man, they meet a mummy and an invisible man. But here, these are the real things. As much as it pained him, Bela Lugosi is the definitive Dracula, and he thus gives added appreciation to the comedic version (and exhibits a wonderful if subtle sense of comedic timing, which he rarely had occasion to exercise in his career). Larry Talbot is the one and only Wolfman, and his hangdog features are perfect shorthand for the Jekyll-and-Hyde dichotomy that lent depth to the original. (Granted, he’s getting a little soft around the midsection, but hey.) And Glenn Strange… okay, he’s not the Frankenstein Monster, but had taken on the role in two previous features, House of Frankenstein and House of Dracula. (And Karloff’s absence was rectified the next year in Abbott & Costello Meet the Killer, Boris Karloff.) All together, the presence of the real stars, even past the prime of their franchises, makes the humor that much funnier.

And let’s not forget the importance of classic schtick. There are chases and pratfalls revolving-door gags all through Dr. Mornay’s spooky old castle (how many of those are there for rent in Florida, anyway?), with Lou Costello screaming like a girl and mugging his best through a string of doubletakes and panic attacks.

“No, not MY comb either!”

What did Bela think of this, finally putting on the cape again to spoof the role that had made him famous? I have no idea. It probably had to sting to become a pop-culture punchline despite one’s capacity and desire for serious work. (see also: Shatner, William.) But the film as a whole is a valentine to three of Universal’s best franchises that had outlived their profitability, a loving and gentle poke in the ribs that infuses the humor with fondness instead of simple parody. There are worse ways for franchises to end. (Like, say, in space.)