The Corpse Vanishes
1942
Dir. Wallace Fox
The Corpse Vanishes was one of many B-movies to star Bela Lugosi in the 1940’s, a particularly prolific period for the actor. The story follows reporter Patricia Hunter (Luana Walters) as she tries to discover who is murdering brides on their wedding day. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out that Lugosi is the culprit: stealing the bodies of young brides to extract vital glandular fluids from them to keep his ailing wife (Elizabeth Russell) youthful. Lugosi is aided in his diabolical quest by the freakish sons of his housekeeper: a sadistic dwarf and a dim-witted giant.
The film begs no pardons for its exploitative subject matter – it relishes in the sensationalism and its shock value goes for the jugular every chance it gets. ‘Its sensational! Another kidnapping of a dead bride – what a story!’ scream the newspaper headlines that spin across the screen, imposed over shots of a busy printing press. After the bizarre opening shots of Lugosi in the back of a Herse, grinning maniacally and greedily pulling a body into the back with him, these sexy headlines bring us up to speed. At this stage, with the exception of Lugosi’s creepy appearance, the film resembles a screwball comedy more than a morbid thriller. The music accompanying the opening montage also suggests we are about to watch a rip roaring yarn.
Luana Walters gives proceedings a well needed shot of adrenaline and she is extremely likable as the intrepid reporter, longing to get out of the society column and into real news. She wants to prove her capability and worth to her sexist, chauvinistic employers. ‘Oh sweetie-pie you wouldn’t know a clue if it bit you.’ Will she prove herself to everyone? You bet she will!
An unusually restrained Lugosi provides yet another reliable ‘mad scientist’ caricature as the eccentric Dr Lorenz. In case you don’t notice how eccentric Lorenz and his wife are, the dashing Dr Foster (the excellently named Tris Coffin) is at hand to point out the couple’s weirdness. Apparently being eccentric means playing the organ and sleeping in coffins. They are so kooky! Our perceptive reporter Patricia soon discovers that each of the brides was given a mysterious orchid moments before falling down dead at the alter. Her suspicions are further aroused when she realises it has a peculiar smell. She decides to bring the orchid to a local botanist – who just so happens to be the eccentric Dr Lorenz!
When she and Dr Foster, new to town and treating Countess Lorenz for her bizarre ailment, are stranded by a convenient storm, they must stay as guests in the spooky house. A creepy encounter between Pat and the imposing Countess ensues. She sneaks into Pat's room and coos over her, exclaiming how young and pretty she is and how pure her skin is. When Pat tries to flee from the room she realises she is locked in and the Countess has vanished.
A creepily effective scene follows, as shadows spill across the bedroom walls and reveal the giant leering over a sleeping Pat. When she awakens and realises that someone is in her room, it is only after she screams that she switches on the lamp, gets out of bed, and puts on her dressing-gown. Upon executing her investigation, Pat finds the bodies of the missing brides and concludes that Lugosi’s Bathory-like wife needs fluids from young women to retain her youth and beauty. When relaying her ghastly discoveries to Dr Foster, Pat utters what is surely the best line in the film: ‘I’ve been up all night with dead people.’
Dir. Wallace Fox
The Corpse Vanishes was one of many B-movies to star Bela Lugosi in the 1940’s, a particularly prolific period for the actor. The story follows reporter Patricia Hunter (Luana Walters) as she tries to discover who is murdering brides on their wedding day. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out that Lugosi is the culprit: stealing the bodies of young brides to extract vital glandular fluids from them to keep his ailing wife (Elizabeth Russell) youthful. Lugosi is aided in his diabolical quest by the freakish sons of his housekeeper: a sadistic dwarf and a dim-witted giant.
The film begs no pardons for its exploitative subject matter – it relishes in the sensationalism and its shock value goes for the jugular every chance it gets. ‘Its sensational! Another kidnapping of a dead bride – what a story!’ scream the newspaper headlines that spin across the screen, imposed over shots of a busy printing press. After the bizarre opening shots of Lugosi in the back of a Herse, grinning maniacally and greedily pulling a body into the back with him, these sexy headlines bring us up to speed. At this stage, with the exception of Lugosi’s creepy appearance, the film resembles a screwball comedy more than a morbid thriller. The music accompanying the opening montage also suggests we are about to watch a rip roaring yarn.
Luana Walters gives proceedings a well needed shot of adrenaline and she is extremely likable as the intrepid reporter, longing to get out of the society column and into real news. She wants to prove her capability and worth to her sexist, chauvinistic employers. ‘Oh sweetie-pie you wouldn’t know a clue if it bit you.’ Will she prove herself to everyone? You bet she will!
An unusually restrained Lugosi provides yet another reliable ‘mad scientist’ caricature as the eccentric Dr Lorenz. In case you don’t notice how eccentric Lorenz and his wife are, the dashing Dr Foster (the excellently named Tris Coffin) is at hand to point out the couple’s weirdness. Apparently being eccentric means playing the organ and sleeping in coffins. They are so kooky! Our perceptive reporter Patricia soon discovers that each of the brides was given a mysterious orchid moments before falling down dead at the alter. Her suspicions are further aroused when she realises it has a peculiar smell. She decides to bring the orchid to a local botanist – who just so happens to be the eccentric Dr Lorenz!
‘Are you trying to tell me that Professor Lorenz is a hypnotist as well as a horticulturist?!’ |
A creepily effective scene follows, as shadows spill across the bedroom walls and reveal the giant leering over a sleeping Pat. When she awakens and realises that someone is in her room, it is only after she screams that she switches on the lamp, gets out of bed, and puts on her dressing-gown. Upon executing her investigation, Pat finds the bodies of the missing brides and concludes that Lugosi’s Bathory-like wife needs fluids from young women to retain her youth and beauty. When relaying her ghastly discoveries to Dr Foster, Pat utters what is surely the best line in the film: ‘I’ve been up all night with dead people.’
The Corpse Vanishes rambles along at a fairly brisk pace and though creaky in places, it does manage a modicum of suspense in a few scenes set in the ghoulish mansion. A few shudders are also generated by the sadly underdeveloped monstrous ‘family’ who work for Lorenz and lurk in the dark shadows of the mansion. A humble, no-budget creeper, the film benefits from its game cast and some moody photography, elevating it above its poverty row peers.