‘In that distant land, I caught an abnormal being.’
A promising young doctor begins working with an older scientist, who is shunned by the medical community due to his mysterious methods. He also neglects his beautiful fiancé, who begins spending time with his new collaborator…
Early horror talkie from Mexico, directed by Juan José Segura, who also co-scripted the film with Jorge Cardeña Álvarez. Ramón Armengod and Consuelo Frank star as the romantic leads, with Carlos Villarías as the scientist who comes between them.
It’s another night at the club for amiable man about town Sóstenes (Leopoldo’ Chato’ Ortín). He’s supposed to be meeting his best friend, Dr Alberto Mont (Armengod) and his pretty fiancé Margarita (Frank), but he prefers to spend his time swindling people into paying for his drinks and getting shitfaced. In the meantime, Armengod is defending his new colleague, Dr Denys (Villarías), before representatives of the medical establishment, who regard his clinical successes with suspicion as he refuses to reveal his methods. The elderly Dr Castillo (co-writer Álvarez) also claims to have gone to medical college with Villarías, even though the scientist appears to be only half his age.
On the same evening, Villarías sends his exotic servant Idúa (Emilio Fernández) to the home of Armengod’s aunt Susanita (Aurora Campuzano) to obtain some of the younger man’s research notes. However, Armengod has brought home the drunken Ortín to sleep it off, and the latter surprises Villarías’ henchman in the act. Of course, without a supporting witness, no one believes Ortín’s fantastic tale and his professions of love for the cynical Campuzano only make things worse. Back at Villarías’ underground laboratory, Fernández delivers the stolen documents. Unexpectedly, they also contain a photograph of Frank, and Villarías is immediately smitten.
The international success of Universal’s 1930s horror films and their stable of classic monsters did not go unnoticed in other parts of the filmmaking world. This effort to ride their coattails to box office glory is an early effort from the Mexico film industry, which had already tipped its toe tentatively into those murky waters with films like folk horror ‘La Llorona/The Crying Woman’ (1933) and supernatural mystery ‘The Phantom of The Convent/El Fantasma Del Convento/The Fantasy of The Monastery’ (1934). However, the main touchstone here seems to have been ‘Frankenstein’ with an added dash of ‘The Picture of Dorian Gray’. Unfortunately, there’s a distinct lack of focus on these elements, and the results are half-baked at best.
The main issue here is with our villain, the enigmatic Dr Denys. What exactly is he doing? We’re told that his healing methods are nothing short of ‘miraculous’, but no specifics are provided at all, and the sum total of information the audience discovers about his work is that it’s really ‘great’ and ‘humanitarian.’ Whatever he’s up to apparently involves his own private monster (Raúl Urquijo), who he keeps chained up in a subterranean cell. This creature, whose origins or purpose are never explained, is dressed in a torn shirt, rubber fangs and a hideous fright wig. He looks like nothing so much as Bruce Banner waking up in the gutter after a massive bender. Of course, he gets free at the climax because that’s what he’s there for, but otherwise, he seems to be thrown in almost at random.
The other major problem is the presence of Ortín’s comedy relief. He gets way too much screen time in a role that’s peripheral at best, and his frequent appearances don’t advance the plot a single iota. In fact, there are times when he almost seems to be the film’s lead, and his relationship with Campuzano threatens to overshadow the central romance between Armengod and Frank. This unfortunate emphasis contributes to the slightly muddled, unbalanced feel of the finished film. The nature of the comedy also hasn’t dated too well. Typically, in the 1930’s movie world, severe alcohol dependency was a source of much hilarity, so its treatment here shouldn’t come as any surprise. However, persistently sticking friends with the bill and cheating others into paying otherwise does not make a character cute and endearing, as this film seems to suggest. It’s more likely to be a quick invitation to a knuckle sandwich.
Overall, this feels a lot like Mexican Cinema taking tentative, baby steps into the horror arena. The filmmakers seem unwilling to fully commit to horror themes or ideas, instead almost sidelining Villarías and his experiments (whatever they are!) in favour of more hilarious hi-jinks with the inebriated Ortín. One interesting, if implausible, idea centres around Villarías’ eternal youth and how it unravels. It’s kind of a reverse of Dracula’s deal in Bram Stoker’s original novel, as the Vampire King becomes visibly younger as he consumes more blood. Unfortunately, it’s unlikely that the filmmakers had the skill or resources to realise a subtle depiction of slow ageing, so the concept’s potential is largely wasted. But it’s a rare spark of originality in what’s almost exclusively a grab bag of odd ideas cherry-picked from far better films. Campuzano also has a little dog called ‘Fu Manchu’ who gives such a fine performance, it’s surprising that the world never heard from him again.
Villarías is best remembered for playing the title role in Universal’s Spanish language version of ‘Dracula’ (1931). The film was shot at the same time as the famous Bela Lugosi version using the same sets, with the Spanish crew shooting at night after the main production had finished for the day. A few other horror roles followed, such as this one and ‘The Mystery of the Ghastly Face/El misterio del rostro pálido’ (1935), but Villarías mostly found his niche in supporting roles in mainstream projects. He split his time between the Mexican and American industries, with the latter association providing him with appearances in Western programmers like ‘The California Trail’ (1933) as well as major releases such as ‘Bordertown’ (1936) starring Paul Muni and Bette Davis. He worked regularly until the late 1940s but retired in the early years of the following decade and passed away in 1976.
A largely forgotten film, little more than a minor footnote in Mexican horror history.
Mark David Welsh 