Hello, ladies and gentlemen, Damond O'Haren.
Welcome to Camp Kaiju Monster Movie Podcast.
I am your co-host, Vincent S.
Hanum, with Matthew Cole Levine.
And together each month, we cover a couple of movies from the annals of monster movie
dumb. And what we love to do is cover all kinds of movies from all kinds of decades
that fall within the scope of the weird. The science fiction, the supernatural creature
features, space invaders, traditional Kaiju.
Really, anything that is a strange beast is welcome here at Camp.
And in that spirit, we have been featuring a short segment on season four of Camp Kaiju,
Rest in Peace, called Silent but Deadly.
I'll let you think about what that means, but now I'll actually tell you, it is where
we explore silent horror movies.
Some of these feature more traditional monsters like The Lost World or Dr. Jackal and Mr.
Hyde.
Some of these are more thrillers, more horrory type movies because the monster movie, as
we know it today, as we typically think of it, wasn't established until really the 30s.
And in the early 1930s, you had King Kong, you had Frankenstein and Dracula, those two
from Universal Studios.
But in the preceding decade, you really had a lot of films laying in the groundwork.
We're talking Lon Cheney's pictures such as The Phantom of the Opera, Hunchback of
Notre Dame. We're talking about the great German expressionist films from Germany in
the 1920s, F.W. Mernals, Nosferatu, Faust, and many other movies.
Some of which we cover on Silent but Deadly.
And our host for this segment is the one and only Peter Lorre.
Yes, once thought dead, maybe still dead, but either way, resurrected from his grave.
And here on Camp Kaiju, Matthew and I are very proud to be working with this screen icon,
this legend of celluloid Peter Lorre, who himself started many a horror flick and suspense
thrillers from the days of Fritz Lang all the way to Roger Corman.
So before I introduce Peter Lorre here to talk about our new segment for season five
and what he has in store, I do want to make amends.
I want to say sorry on behalf of Camp Kaiju Monster Movie Podcast, Matthew and I did
bring Peter Lorre back unwillingly and we do admit fault to that.
And we humbly beg the forgiveness of Peter Lorre and all you listeners.
And we hope that despite our reconciliation that it's never forgotten that it was our
bad and we're sorry.
Mr. Lorre, how are you?
Hello Vincent.
I'm a little sick.
I'm a little under the weather.
My voice usually doesn't sound like this but you know how it goes.
You get put into a box and then you have to sound the same way forever.
Well, I do want to thank you and I do accept your apology.
As I said at the end of my last segment that before the earthquake took me that I am actually
quite proud and feel accomplished with my new broadcasting skills.
I have now had my rest and I am ready to get back in the recording booth.
Well, wow, that's really great to hear Mr. Lorre.
Gosh, you know, I was going to wait a little bit but what the heck?
I know Matthew's not here but he's not going to mind.
I know last time we hadn't heard from Pierre and for those of you listening Pierre was
a little mouse friend that Mr. Lorre had in his booth and Mr. Lorre and us did not have
contact with each other except for Pierre who would ferry messages back and forth and
bring Mr. Lorre his meals.
How were those fish heads Mr. Lorre?
Well, you know, I actually kind of enjoyed them by the end.
As a revenant, as a living corpse, I don't have much need for fruits and veggies so I'm
okay with the fishes.
Well that's swell.
So without further ado Mr. Lorre, here is your gift for season 5.
Pierre the Rat.
Oh my goodness, get him away from me.
No, no, no, Mr. Lorre, Mr. Lorre, it's fine.
We stitched him together.
He is smiling at you.
We made that a permanent feature and I know you buried him in the floorboards with a cleaver.
Not sure what that was for but we've taken the cleaver away.
Oh, oh Pierre, oh, oh, well, uh, uh, how are you?
How you doing, okay?
Oh my goodness, Vinci, what have you done?
You've stitched him back together like a Frankenstein monster.
His little rat hands and his little vermin tail and his, hell, and his rodent neck all
sewn together and that, that smile, oh my goodness, that, that is simply diabolical,
that, that permanent fixture that the rodent who would not frown.
This is, this is heinous, this is horrible, this is grotesque and horrifying.
I love it.
This is wonderful.
Pierre, come here and give, give your old friend Peter a hug.
Oh, thank you Pierre.
I forgive you too.
Will you forgive me?
Oh, that's very nice of you to hear.
I would love to hear your jokes anytime you have them.
I'm sure we can fix something up.
Well, that just warms your heart, doesn't it listeners?
And we are going to get on with our special episode here, Silent but Deadly, the on-core
presentation.
This is a stitched together presentation of all the Silent but Deadly segments Mr. Laurie
hosted for us.
And before we get into that, Mr. Laurie, would you and Pierre, would you please introduce
our new segment for 2025, Season 5 of Camp Kaiju Monster Movie Podcast?
Are you Vincent?
I would love to.
Listeners of Camp Kaiju Monster Movie Podcast, be prepared.
We are moving out of the silent era and we are moving into the 1930s and 40s with what
is known as Poverty Row Horror Movies.
Poverty Row Studios were those studios on the outskirts of the Hollywood mainstream.
We're not talking about Universal and Metro Golden Mare, no, no.
We are talking about Monogram and NNPRC and Republic Pictures.
Movies that were built, the engine, the lifeblood of these studios were cheap quickies.
The movie would be an honorific title for these films that often portrayed mad scientists
and monster apes and zombies of the voodoo nature.
These movies often starred Bela Lugosi who could continue to rot in his box.
This podcast is mine, Bela.
You stay away.
Pierre, go.
Go, Pierre.
Sick yourself on the vampire Bela Lugosi that old.
Pierre, Pierre, Pierre.
No, no.
Mr. Lory, Mr. Lory.
Bela Lugosi and us, we're on good terms.
The contract fell through but that's okay.
We gave this to you because we thought we appreciate you and we honor you, not because
we do not like Mr. Lugosi.
Mr. Lory, please.
Okay.
Where was I?
Okay.
Yes.
So the Poverty Row Movies.
These are wonderfully underground films that I can't wait to cover on season five of Camp
Kaiju.
And a new segment titled The Poverty Row Picture Show.
So we join you listeners to listen to this segment.
Leave your comments.
What are you excited about?
How do you feel about Mr. Lugosi?
Sorry.
How do you feel about Pierre?
How do you feel about my movies?
Tell me how sexy and sultry I sound.
I'm back, baby.
And I'm ready, ready to talk about some horror movies that I personally love.
So thank you for your time, for your listenership, for your followership.
Thank you.
And without further ado, I give you the encore presentation of Silent or Deadly.
Here.
Yeah, this is Peter Lorre speaking.
I couldn't resist the temptation to call you.
I just read of your new picture that you ought to make.
Oh, that's very nice of you.
Thanks for your interest.
Oh, I thought you were magnificent in M's.
And just the other night, I saw your new picture, just the man in you too much.
What character are you going to play in?
Oh, it's the most unusual story.
You know it's a great love drama.
I am to be a half-mad scientist.
I, a poor peasant, have conquered science.
Why can't I conquer love?
He shall be shut up when it's I who am mad.
But nobody knows that.
Yes.
Each man kills a thing he loves.
He lives.
knocked the screens, the movies were no less monstrous.
These frightful figures lurked in the expressionistic shadows and danced in the macabre moonlight.
Oh, they laughed, they cried, they fooled the sensibilities of honest, decent folk.
In the age of silent pictures, these gruesome ghouls nonetheless cried out to the savage
humanity that took the breath from all who witnessed their devilish delights.
For in the silence, no one can hear you scream.
My name is Peter Lorre, and I have been resurrected from my grave recently by Matthew and Vincent
to discuss silent monster movies.
You may know me from such films as Casa Blanca and The Raven, directed by Roger Corman.
I have been long dead, but I wish Roger the best and hope that he is alive and well.
I have just been informed that Roger Corman is no longer among the living.
Perhaps I will see him on the other side, but I have been dragged back to the land of
the living to talk about something called Camp Kaiju Monster Movie Podcast, with a segment
called Silent but Deadly.
Each week I will be forced to talk about a movie from the 1920s, starring actors like
Conrad Weidt, Lon Cheney, directors like F.W.
Murnau, Todd Browning, and movies like Metropolis, Nosferatu, and The Phantom of the Opera.
We will start the segment with The Phantom in July.
Until then, I will try my best to find my way back to the land of the dead.
It's time to get out of here.
Before Gharloth and Legosi stalked the screens, the movies were no less monstrous.
These frightful figures lurked in the expressionistic shadows and danced in the macabre moon lights.
Oh, they laughed, they cried, they fooled the sensibilities of honest decent folk.
In the age of silent pictures, these gruesome ghouls nonetheless cried out for the savage
humanity that took the breath from all who witnessed their devilish delights.
For in the silence, no one can hear you scream.
Indeed the silent screen was full of silent screams.
Hmm, I am Peter Lorre.
You may know me from such movies as The Maltese Falcon and The Beast with Five Fingers.
Matthew and Vincent have disturbed my eternal rest and given me a microphone to talk about
silent movies, and while I adore these pictures, I do not take kindly to this abuse.
Well, but what can I do?
They have promised my return to the grave should I help them celebrate the monster movies
of the 1920s.
Welcome to Silent But Deadly.
This week we discuss The Phantom of the Opera from 1925.
Produced by Universal Pictures and starring Lon Chaney, the movie tells of a masked madman
living under the Paris Opera House who was believed by many to be merely a ghost.
However, this Phantom is soon all too real when he falls in love with Christine, the
young Anjan who of the company.
The Phantom soon captures Christine, wantonly destroys a chandelier and murders dozens of
those who would laugh at him.
Now bringing the Phantom to life is Lon Chaney known as the man of a thousand faces.
Chaney was a star at this point in his career, renowned for his talents with makeup, physical
dexterity, and the ability to imbue his characters with a sympathetic humanity.
The Phantom of the Opera is a tremendous example of Chaney's reputation.
Chaney makes an indelible impression but more subconsciously the movie reflects the anxieties
of post-war audiences of the 1920s.
This was a time when many veterans of the First World War were living with ghastly disfigurements,
often wearing masks much like the Phantoms.
The movie asks us to reflect on how society treats the physically disabled among us.
The Phantom of the Opera was a smash for Universal helping establish the studio's reputation
for horror and cementing Lon Chaney's status as a legend for the ages.
Next time on Silent But Deadly we will feature an underrated movie by Todd Browning called
The Mystic, and I will be one movie closer to escaping this podcast and resting my weary
bones in the confines of my beloved grave.
Before Karloff and Lugosi stalked the screens, the movies were no less monstrous.
Most frightful figures lurked in the expressionistic shadows of dance in the macabre moonlight.
They laughed, they cried, they fooled the sensibilities of honest decent folk.
In the age of silent pictures, these gruesome ghouls nonetheless cried out for the savage
humanity that took the breath from all who witnessed their devilish delights.
In the silent, no one will fear his reign.
But on this podcast I know you can hear me shouting for help!
Help!
Help me!
Oh, how I suffer the interminable pangs of resurrection.
I am Peter Lorrie, you may know me from such movies as M. and Mad Love.
Matthew and Vincent have summoned me from beyond the grave to help them shine a light
on silent monster movies.
They call their segment Silent But Deadly.
Indeed, the more of this script I read, the more I endure a second death!
Lass I persist for the sooner I finish, the sooner I may return to the afterlife.
This week we discuss a 1925 movie called The Mystic from Metro-Goldwyn-Mare.
The movie is directed by Todd Browning.
He tells the story of a clan of Hungarian circus folk composed of cutthroats and swindlers.
When a dashing American con man enters their camp, he persuades them to bring their nefarious
talents to the United States.
There, the beautiful and mysterious Zara ingratiates herself into high society with
a phony psychic routine, tensions mount as Zara's kinfolk navigate their own jealousies
and ruthless ambitions.
Director Todd Browning is best known for directing Universal's Dracula in 1931, but in the silent
era he helmed a series of hits exploring the seedy underbelly of society, crime and horror
where his trademark genres and the mystic adds a touch of mystery to these elements.
A standout scene involves the elaborate machinations of Zara's communication with the spirit world.
As two detectives look on, they are unable to decipher just how Zara summons a wailing
ghost.
Browning achieves a simple yet remarkably effective visual by placing our characters in a pitch
black room and having the spirit blaze brightly as the only source of light in the frame.
For my own spiritual conjuring, as impressive as this.
Interestingly, the mystic mirrors the fascination with psychics that was popular in the 1920s.
Some celebrities, like Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, were ardent believers in connecting with the
spirit world.
Others, like Harry Houdini, were determined to expose mediums as charlatans who only took
advantage of grieving individuals.
Overall, the mystic is an entertaining if conventional melodrama.
Nevertheless, the film foreshadows more ambitious movies by Browning such as The Unknown and
Freaks.
And since The Unknown is a silent movie, we will discuss it next time on Silent But Deadly.
And I will be one week closer to breaking this intolerable curse under which I find myself.
And if you can hear my pleas for help, do something, anything, help me, help me!
Before Carloff and Lugosi stalked the screens, the movies were no less monstrous.
These frightful figures lurked in the expressionistic shadows and danced in the macabre moonlight.
They laughed, they cried, they booed the sensibilities of honest, decent folk in the age of silent
pictures.
These gruesome ghouls nonetheless cried out with a savage humanity that took the breath
from all those who witnessed the devilish delights.
For in the silence, no one can hear you scream.
Or if you are me and this infernal podcaster.
I am Peter Laurie, you may know me from such movies as The Raven, and Ossnick, and Old
Lace.
You may be wondering how on God's green earth you are hearing my handsome voice when I have
been dead these 60 years.
Let me tell you about a couple of red bastards named Matthew and Vincent who have unilaterally
decided I would be the perfect host for this segment.
I am flattered, but not raced.
The sooner I fulfill my audio obligations, the sooner I may return to the afterlife.
So welcome to Silent but Deadly.
This week we discuss...
Oh, what is this?
Oh, how thoughtful.
Thank you, Pierre.
Ladies and gentlemen, I have just been visited by my only friend I have in this insufferable
recording boot in which I live out the pangs of my resurrection.
He has given me a note from my tormentor that reads, Silent but Deadly is brought to you
by the mysterious old radio listening society, a podcast dedicated to suspense, crime, and
horror stories from the golden age of radio.
How nice.
Another spot, sir.
Will no one save me?
This week we discuss another talk browning picture called The Unknown from 1927.
This movie stars the man of a thousand faces, Lon Cheney, in a trademark story of physical
deformity.
Cheney plays Alonzo the armless, a circus performer without arms who falls in love with
Ninon played by Joan Crawford, who has an aversion to the physical touch of men.
That plot thickens when it is revealed that Alonzo does indeed have his arms and is a
murderer on the limb and if that weren't enough, he has killed Ninon's father.
The only clue tying Alonzo to the murder is his double thumb which has left its telltale
print on the dead man's neck.
In a fix, Alonzo has his limbs actually amputated before Ninon can learn the truth and hoping
she may love a man who cannot hold her.
Doesn't work out for Alonzo?
Oh, positively not.
Ninon overcomes her fear of masculine embrace and falls for the strong man of the troop.
Devastated and now without arms, Alonzo meets his tragic end.
The Unknown was a weaning collaboration between Browning and Cheney with both men playing
to their strengths.
The Unknown foreshadows themes of the outcast scene in Browning's 1932 film Freaks and Cheney
delivers another memorable portrayal of a sympathetic villain.
Perhaps however, it is Joan Crawford who delivers the most poignant performance.
We are only left with our own perceptions as to the nature of a dramatic relationship
with men.
Overall, the Unknown is a far less famous movie than other Browning and Cheney pictures,
but it is indeed worthy of our attention.
Next time on Silent But Deadly, we will discuss another long Cheney movie called He Who Gets
Slapped.
I'm about to slap a baby if this segment goes on much longer.
Oh, Pierre, you know, perhaps you might send a note to the outside world.
Casablanca, city of hope and despair located in French Morocco in North Africa.
The meeting place of adventurers, fugitives, criminals, refugees lured into this dangerous
webtoasis by the hope of escape to the Americas.
But they're all trapped, for there is no escape.
Against this fascinating background is woven the story of an imperishable love and the
enthralling saga of six desperate people, each in Casablanca to keep an appointment
with destiny.
I was willing to shoot Captain Rhino and I'm willing to shoot you.
All right, Major, you ask for it.
You knew how much I loved you, how much I still love you.
I know a good deal more about you than you suspect.
I know, for instance, that you're in love with a woman.
It's perhaps a strange circumstance that we both should love the same woman.
What do you want for Sam?
Don't buy and sell human beings.
It's to bear this Casablanca's leaving commodity.
You can ask any price you want, but you must give me those letters.
I tried to reason with you.
I tried to...
Now I want those letters.
Come closer.
I want to talk to you.
I'm going to tell you an astounding story, the story of the Maltese Forkhan.
Six hundred years the Forkhan has carried the mystery of a fabulous wealth under its
grotesque wings.
I could tell you a thousand tales of the men and women who have hunted this evil bird.
But every story has the same ending.
Murder.
Listen to these incredible people, all consumed by their passionate greed for the Maltese
Forkhan.
What have you ever given me besides money?
Have you ever given me any of your confidence, any of the truth?
Haven't you tried to buy my loyalty with money and nothing else?
What else is there I can buy you with?
I'll tell you who loves who, I won't play the sap for you.
I'm lived a good life.
I've been bad.
Worse than you could know.
We were talking about a lot more money than this.
There are more of us to be taken care of now.
Well, that may be, but I've got the Forkhan.
You may have to Forkhan, but we certainly have you.
I've taken all the writing from you I'm going to take.
Get up and shoot it out.
Stop it, the police will be here any minute now.
Talk.
Oh, how can you accuse me of such a thing?
This isn't the time for that schoolgirl act, we're both sitting under the gallows.
Look.
More Karloff and Legosi stalked the screens.
The movies were no less monstrous.
These frightful figures lurked in the expressionistic shadows and danced in the macabre moonlight.
They laughed.
They cried.
They fooled the sensibilities of honest, decent folk.
In the age of silent pictures, these gruesome rules nonetheless cried out with a savage
humanity that took the breath from all who witnessed their devilish delights.
For in the silence, no one can hear you scream.
But I, Peter Lorre, will be heard.
Welcome to Silent But Deadly, where I am forced to review silent monster movies in exchange
for my soul's eternal rest.
You may know me from such radio dramas as Suspense and Mystery in the Air.
This week we discuss the 1924 movie He Who Gets Slapped starring Lon Chaney.
Oh, enough with the scripted pleasantries, ladies and gentlemen.
Tonight with the help of Pierre the Little Mouse, who keeps me company, I will send a
note to the authorities alerting them to my entrapment.
Pierre!
Hurry, take this note.
Take it to the police.
Yes, that's it.
Good, good, Pierre.
Now run, run, my little vermin savior.
Run like the wind.
I am feeling good about this.
And while I wait, allow me to review one last movie.
He Who Gets Slapped tells the story of a doctor whose scientific thesis has been stolen
along with his wife by his benefactor.
Strangely the doc finds solace in the circus as a clown alter ego named He.
Over time, He becomes famous for his signature act in which other clowns slap him for saying
absurd things.
Life goes on for He until his old benefactor turns up yet again to steal away the girl
with whom He is now in love with.
In revenge, He lays a trap for the benefactor in which a caged lion is released into his
room, mauling the man to death.
He himself is mortally wounded in the event.
Now the film is directed by Swedish director Viktor Seestrum who imbues the film with a
dreamy off-kilter atmosphere.
This permeates the picture with a subtle unease that never subsides.
As for Chaney, his sad clown would become the standard for such characters.
Altogether the film is essential viewing for fans of Lon Chaney.
Cinefiles will also be interested in knowing that He Who Kitslapped was the first picture
for a Metro-Goldwyn Mare to feature their famous lion logo.
Next time on Silent But Deadly, I was supposed to discuss the man who laughs starring Conrad
Vite.
But that was before Fortune favored my weary soul.
Before soon, I will welcome the police, led by Mighty Pierre, and will soon escape this
confounded podcast.
The sport Carloff and Lagosie stocked the screens, the movies were no less monstrous.
These frightful figures lurked in the expressionistic shadows and danced in the macabre moonlight.
Oh, they laughed, they cried, they fooled the sensibilities of honest, decent folk.
In the age of silent pictures, these gruesome ghouls nonetheless cried out with a savage
humanity that took the breath from all who witnessed their devilish delights.
For in the silence no one can hear you scream.
And I am not feeling so well.
Since our last meeting, I have sunk once more into the mire of misery.
Pierre, my little rodent compatriot, did not succeed in his quest to alert the authorities
of my podcast purgatorio.
As it turns out, policemen are none too eager to trust a rat with a note declaring the legendary
actor, Peter Laurie is trapped in a recording studio.
No, no Pierre, you have done all you can, and I must now fulfill my unholy bargain with
Matthew and Vincent, who have requested I review silent monster movies in exchange for a return
to terminal dreamland.
As it turns out, policemen are none too eager to trust a rat with a note declaring the legendary
actor, Peter Laurie is trapped in a recording studio.
No, Pierre, I do not yell at you, you have done all you can.
I must now fulfill my unholy bargain with Matthew and Vincent, who have requested I review silent
monster movies in exchange for a return to terminal dreamland.
This week we discuss The Man Who Laps from 1928.
The Man Who Laps tells the story of Gwyn Plain, a boy who was exiled from the court of King
James II of England, and then disfigured with the carving of a large smile onto his face.
As Gwyn Plain ages, he does what anybody with a permitting grin would do.
He joins a band of carnies and falls in love with a blind woman.
However, Gwyn Plain's relatively stable life is soon turned upside down when the aristocracy
discover his noble roots and pull him back into the duplicitous world of the royal court.
The Man Who Laps is produced by Universal Studios and is based on a novel by Victor Hugo.
Direction is by the German expressionistic master Paul Lenny, making his U.S. debut.
Gwyn Plain is played by German actor Conrad Weidt, known for the cabinet of Dr. Caligari,
and the blind woman Dia is played by Mary Philbin, known for the Phantom of the Opera.
In fact, Universal had intended Gwyn Plain for Lon Cheney after his memorable performance
as Victor Hugo's other tragic character, that hunchback of Notre Dame.
Nevertheless, Weidt proved masterful as this sympathetic clown, and the movie was another
stepping stone in Universal's growing reputation for Gothic horror.
In fact, Universal monster makeup artist Jack Pierce cut his teeth on The Man Who Laughs.
His makeup for Gwyn Plain would even inspire that for Batman's arch nemesis, The Joker.
Perhaps if I carve a smile onto my face, then I will strike fear into the hearts of all
those who refuse to help me.
Perhaps I'll find the humor of the situation of this ridiculous state of affairs in which
I find myself...yes, yes, next time on Silent but Deadly we will discuss a tale of terror
called the Golem.
It is a positive riot.
Ha ha ha ha ha.
Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha.
Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha.
The motion picture screen explodes with unprecedented power as the two masters of imagination,
Jules Verne and Walt Disney, join to bring you a shattering new experience in entertainment.
Read by countless millions, translated into 18 languages, this classic adventure is a
story of measureless scope, fraught with fantastic beauty and danger.
Four great stars give the spark of life to its leading characters in a series of inspirational
performances.
Kirk Douglas as the master harpooner, Ned Land.
God, we love a tale to tell you lies.
The whale of a tale or two, about the flaccid fish and the girls outlawed.
The night's like this with the moon on top.
We love a tale and it's all true, I swear by my tattoo.
James Mason as Captain Nemo, who held the destiny of the world in his hands.
The real story of the ocean depths begins where you left off.
Wonders that defy my powers of description.
The secrets that are mine alone.
Paul Lucas as Professor Aranax of the Paris Institute.
I asked you to leave, Professor.
You also asked me, to show me man's inhumanity to man.
Why?
To justify this, you are not only a murderer, you are a hypocrite.
The proof lies out there.
You call that murder?
Peter Lorre as Conceal.
Sure, we're friends.
Go ahead, hit me.
Hit me.
You mean that?
Sure, go ahead, you can't miss it.
Now, dear friend.
The most vivid scenes from the novel become unforgettable on the screen.
The luxurious interior of the submarine.
The revelation of the hidden mysteries of the deep.
We do our hunting and farming here.
Under water?
The sea supplies all my wants.
The mighty harvests of the ocean kingdom.
And the strange creatures that menace the intruders on the ocean floor.
And after a safe return, the memorable dinner party.
It's remarkable, this tastes like veal.
The flavor deceives you.
That is fillet of sea snake.
I guess this isn't lamb.
That is brisket of blowfish with sea-squared dressing, basted in barnacles.
What is it?
It's a recipe of my own, a study of unborn octopus.
And to stay in your memory as the most thrilling sequence ever photographed in motion picture
history, the terrifying battle with the giant squid.
Before Carloff and Lagos, he stocked the screens.
The movies were no less monstrous.
These frightful figures lurked in the expressynistic shadows of dance in the macabre moonlight.
Oh, they laughed.
They cried.
They fooled the sensibilities of the modest decent folk.
In the age of silent pictures, these gruesome ghouls nonetheless pride out.
The savage humanity that took the breath from all who witnessed their devilish delights.
Or in the silence, no one can hear you scream.
Wah.
Who?
Who is there?
Is that you Pierre?
Matthew?
Viencint?
Oh, I am so woozy.
What?
What is the time?
How long have I been out?
Hmm.
The last thing I remember was, was attempting to carve a smile onto my face when I...
I must have blacked out.
Well, where do we go from here?
I turn to the agreement of my indentured servitude on Camp Kaiju in which I am to review monster movies from the silent era of motion pictures.
Only upon completion of this devilish bargain will I be free to return to my eternal rest and the great beyond.
So here it goes.
Ahem.
I am Peter Lorre. You may know me from such films as Alfred Hitchcock's The Man Who Knew Too Much and Roger Corman's The Comedy of Terror.
This week on Silent But Deadly, I will tell you about The Gollum, how he came into the world. This is from 1920.
This movie was made in Germany following the First World War and is an excellent example of early German expressionism.
It was directed by Paul Wegener and is the second film of a trilogy.
However, it is the only surviving of the series, the other two being lost during the Second World War.
The Gollum is a retelling of a medieval Jewish folktale in which a man-made monster known as the Gollum is sculpted from clay by a rabbi to exact vengeance on those who have banished the Jewish community from the city of Prague.
The movie, hmm, the movie was a massive success in both Germany and the United States, ushering in the German expressionist movie along with other films like the The Cabinet of Dr. Eligari.
The Gollum's director of photography, Karl Freund, would eventually make a name for himself at Universal Studios and shoot the classic Stracula and direct the mummy only a decade later.
Next time on Silent But Deadly, I will continue the theme of German expressionism that influenced so many filmmakers in the horror genre.
We will discuss perhaps the most famous of them all, that, that, that cabinet of Dr. Caligari, and maybe, just maybe, I will once again find my inner peace.
Oh, oh, what is, what is this?
Is this, this, this light from above?
Is it, is it my salvation?
Ladies and gentlemen, a bright light has appeared upon my little recording booth in which I record these, these, these segments and, and oh my, oh my goodness, a, a, a door, a trap door in the ceiling has opened up.
Ladies and gentlemen, wish me luck as I make my escape from this hellish device known as, as, as a podcast.
Oh! Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh.
Before Karloff and Lugosi stopped the screens, the movies were no less monstrous.
These frightful figures lurked in the expressionistic shadows and danced in the macabre moonlight.
Oh, they laughed, they cried, they they they flew the sensibilities on his decent folk.
For in the age of silent pictures, these gruesome ghouls nonetheless cried out with the savage humanity
that took the breath from all who witnessed their devilish delights.
For in the silence, no one can hear you scream.
Yes, I am almost there.
I'm climbing into a new beginning.
From above there was a light, and down below I turned to look for an escape from this recording booth
and I'm climbing up into the light, into freedom, into...
Oh no, no, what is this?
This is a nightmare, it is the same recording booth in which I have been imprisoned these many months.
What madness is this?
This never-ending and perpetual booth of doom in which I must review monster movies from the silent era?
This Conrad Veidt is controlled by Dr. Caligari, so I, Peter Lorre, am controlled by Matthew Invincent.
Or only by fulfilling my unholy obligations will they allow me to return peacefully to my grave.
Well, if this is to be my lot in the afterlife, I might as well tell you about the 1920 classic
The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari.
The film is about a sideshow entertainer named Dr. Caligari, who commands total control over a mysterious somnambulist or a sleepwalker.
Dr. Caligari has the somnambulist enact vengeance on any who cross him if only I had my own somnambulist.
But I digress finally at an insane asylum.
Our story concludes with an ending that must be seen to believed.
It is all a tale of madness and murder, and perhaps Matthew Invincent will know how closely this movie will mirror their own fate.
I apologize, ladies and gentlemen.
Sometimes my emotions get the better of me when I think too hard about what has happened to me since my death all those many years ago.
But where was I?
Oh, right, The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari. It has been called the first true horror film, and is the quintessential example of the German expressionist movement,
in which the sets, lighting, makeup, and other art designs are designed to illuminate our innermost nightmares.
Indeed, the writers of this movie, Hans Janowitz and Karl Mayer, were veterans of the recently ended First World War,
and their movie reflects their distrust of government military figures.
These themes of institutional distrust and the artistic stylings of German expressionism are used by horror, mystery, and noir filmmakers to this day.
Next time, on Silent but Deadly, we will explore another landmark example from the silent era called Metropolis.
Perhaps you have heard of this movie from my long dead and resting at ease colleague Fritz Long.
Perhaps I may numb myself enough to the torture of this podcast to get through my dastardly contract from hell.
Perhaps I may turn a corner yet. Perhaps my captors may visit me and at least provide me company and conversation.
No, no Pierre, you are enough, but a man must have human friends.
There's an enemy spy at large, an invisible man. It's amazing. You will be of great help to us.
Who is this terrifying phantom commando? What is his amazing mission? See the invisible agent, suggested by H.G. Wells, invisible man,
starring Elona Massey and John Hall, with Peter Lorre, Sir Cedric Hardwick, J. Edward Bromberg, Albert Wasserman, in the most amazing story of our time.
Stop!
Step in now. Little in to get away.
I too, Gazunter. Who is there? How did you know I was going to England? I didn't, but...
So the trap was all set, eh? Frank Hawkins, you talk like that. What's this? It's full of hooks. They're tearing into me.
Every drop of blood fills the freezing paralysis of fear, almost stopping your heart, as Edgar Allan Poe unfolds his tales of terror.
You will meet the master of the mansion, who loved and protected his wife with the strength of a supernatural love, even beyond life itself.
I am in command here. You will do as I say. I shall take what I desire, your body and your soul if I demand it.
I've earned another... help! Help!
Then you'll enjoy the black cat's sardony, humorous tale. It all started at the Vintner's Convention, where the lover of wine met the professional wine taster and introduced him to his wife, a darling who delighted in dallions.
What kind of a man are you anyway? Make love to my wife and Disney and talk to me?
You're insane!
That may be, but very clever.
Help! Help! Help!
In this monstrous mausoleum of the living, you will witness fury far worse than a woman scorned.
Help! Help!
The fury of a dead woman's jealousy.
Help! Help!
And now we're going to turn it over to Mr. Peter Laurie. He's going to talk about metropolis, not megalopolis, but I'm sure there's Coppola's pull in some of the same imagery, maybe? I don't know. I've never seen it.
There are explicit references to metropolis, including one little dance that the robot Maria does in metropolis that was repeated in megalopolis. I'm not going to nerd out about megalopolis too much, but that's one of many fun things about that movie.
Well, I don't think Peter Laurie will nerd out about metropolis. I've heard he's not having a great time in the recording booth. He keeps scratching at the door. I'm like, Peter, we give you food, we give you water, what else do you need?
Yeah, he has his bucket of fish heads in there. Just be content. That's all you need. Maybe someday he'll break out of there, but I doubt it. I don't think it's ever going to happen.
He must fulfill the contract for season four, and then he's free to do whatever he wants.
Oh, don't say that. We need him for the next couple of seasons at least.
Well, okay, you bring it up. Between you and me and you listeners, I am in talks with Bayla Lugosi.
Whoa. That's miraculous.
Yes, he's trying. It's his comeback tour. He wants it. He wants us. He came to us, and I was like, okay, I saw your last movie. I'll give you, I'll throw you a bone.
Yeah. How can you say no to Bayla Lugosi? He's synonymous with classic horror. You have to.
He might do something with like, poverty row horror films.
Man, I can't wait. I mean, I feel bad for Peter. I hope he breaks out of that recording booth at some point, because it cannot be fun in there.
So we'll have to see what happens with Peter and Bella coming up soon.
Yeah, well, for now, we've got Metropolis to hear from, so yeah, it'll be a good time.
Cool. I can't wait.
Before Carl off and Lugosi stalked the screens, the movies were no less monstrous.
These frightful figures lurked in the expressionistic shadows and danced in the macabre moonlight.
Oh, they laughed, they cried, they fooled the sensibilities of honest, decent folk.
In the age of silent pictures, these gruesome ghouls nonetheless cried out with a savage humanity that took the breath from all who witnessed their devilish delights.
They were in the silence. No one can hear you scream.
Hmm.
You know, Pierre, this bucket of fish heads isn't so bad.
Perhaps I should be more civil with Matthew and Vincent. Perhaps if I extend the olive branch, they may be more amenable to my desperate situation.
For it is not the infernal recording booth that upsets me so, but rather the lack of human connection.
No offense, Pierre.
But do you hear me, my captors? Matthew, Vincent, I throw down the bucket of fish head gauntlet and I say to you, come and visit me sometime and you shall have a fish head for yourself.
Hmm.
Oh, this is some good food.
Well, well, well, well, Domen und Heron, welcome to Silent but Deadly, where I, Peter Lorre, review monster movies from the silent era with the supreme leisure.
My positively relish my summoning from the spirit world to willingly lend my voice to a podcast. This week we discuss Metropolis from director Fritz Long, who might be just as well known for his films, M, in the Dr. Mobusa series.
Metropolis was made in Germany during the Weimar period. It is set in a futuristic urban dystopia and follows the attempts of Frader, the wealthy son of the city master, and Maria, a saintly figure to the workers, who overcome the vast gulf separating the classes in their city and bring these workers together with the films often repeated message reads,
quote, the mediator between the head and the hands must be the heart.
Metropolis is difficult to surmise in mere minutes. It is an epic science fiction film with elements of horror in the mad scientist Rottwein and his evil android mistress.
The movie is cited among the most influential of all time with its design elements appearing in other classics like Blade Runner and Matthews personal favorite movie of all time, Megalopolis.
And while I may prefer my own feature with Fritz Lang, I cannot recommend Metropolis enough. Next time, oh yes, next time we will discuss one more movie from Germany and the expressionistic school and considering it's Halloween, this one will be perfect.
If W. Murnow's other classic, Faust, I think I am getting good at this Pierre, so good that Matthew and Vincent are bound to notice. They just have to and if anything else, the bucket of fish heads will waft up the air vents into their nostrils and seduce them down below into the podcast booth.
And now we hand it over to Peter Laurie, who is doing a great job of reviewing silent monster movies.
That sounds great.
I love it. Yeah.
His reviews are getting a little bit more off the rails, I think, as time goes on, but he's doing good work. He's trying. Yeah.
He's trying to keep some madness in Bay.
Yeah. Not totally successfully, I might add.
Yeah. But he's going to talk about the 1926 movie Faust, directed by F. W. Murnow.
One of my favorites.
Murnow. Yeah.
Love it.
Gorgeous movie. Terrifying movie.
Before Karloff and Logos had stalked the screens, the movies were no less monstrous.
These frightful figures lurked in the expressionistic shadows and had danced in the macabre moonlight.
Oh, they laughed, they cried, they day fooled, the sensibilities and honest decent folk. In the age of silent pictures, these gruesome ghouls nonetheless cried out with a savage humanity.
They took the breath from all who witnessed their devilish delights.
Or in the silence, no one could hear you scream.
Hello, everybody. I am Peter Lorre. You may know me from such movies as Beat the Devil and Stranger on the Third Floor.
These days I am a professional podcaster here in the afterlife. And I humbly thank Matthew and Vincent for disturbing my eternal rest, wrenching my bones from my tomb, and propping my withered corpse within the four walls of this booth, from which there is no escape.
Unless, of course, I fulfill my audio obligations and review monster movies from the silent era.
These past few weeks, we have explored the horror films of the German expressionist movement. Movies like The Golem, The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari, and Metropolis.
I present one more entry. It is called Faust from 1926 and directed by F.W. Murnau. Murnau, of course, better known, perhaps, for his masterpiece Nosferatu, in the Academy Award-winning best picture, Sunrise, a Song of Two Humans.
But it is this retelling of the medieval legend of Faust that will haunt your dreams this, this, this spooky season. For the uninitiated, Faust is about the demon Mephisto, who makes a bet with an archangel that a good man's soul can be corrupted.
Mephisto sets his sights on the thoughtful old alchemist Faust, who is desperately trying to save his village from the plague. He is able to, to help the villagers, thanks to Mephisto, but, but further dealings with the devil lead Faust on a decadent downward spiral.
Can he redeem his soul before it is too late? The film digs into the steams of fate, free will, human vanity, and self-sacrifice.
Now Faust was the most expensive German film at the time, and despite being a box office disappointment, it is regarded among Murnau's best.
It was also his last film in Germany before his move to the United States, where he made Sunrise.
An interesting bit of trivia is that the night at Bald Mountain sequence in Disney's animated Phantasia was directly inspired by the monstrous demon imagery in Faust.
Have I convinced you yet to check out this movie that is, that is, that is criminally underrated? Now do it, do it before I, I pardon me, ladies and gentlemen, I, I,
but a little ahead of myself, as you know, I am trying to turn over a new leaf so that Matthew and Vincent might, might not renege on their, their commitment to releasing me from my, my podcast bondage at the, at the conclusion of this silent but deadly series.
And in that vein, next time we will move back to the United States and discuss the, the 1920 adaptation of Dr. Tickle and Mr. Hyde, starring the one and only John Barrymore.
What do you know, it will also be November and I will give thanks for nearing the end of my podcast purgatorio.
Starring Vincent Price, who inspired by a seductive woman is overpowered with lust to kill Peter Lorre, too sensitive for both the life he lives and the lives he takes.
Body fingers. Boris Karloff, the ancient one with a fount of sweet memories. Alexander the Great and barmed in honey, so they say.
Abundantly blessed, Joyce Jamison, an unhappy, unkissed bride. Aren't you coming to bed, husband?
Rubarb, the cat in the house of unholy horror.
Amazing Joey Brown, shockingly amazed.
And inimitable Bessel Rathbone, who's wrath will slash you to the bone.
A mad killer, like the angel of death, stalks his next victim.
He has a nose.
Well, you're here because you're dead, Mr. Black. The hell I am.
Music
True terror is the soft cold caress of the Ravenswing.
Your hand is a cope.
A woman whose desires transcend reality. The mysterious powers of black magic, these you will explore.
Now what is it you need? You got some bright blood over the back in the house.
The Raven will take you careening through the darkest of dangers, into the ominous mystery of a master magician's evil castle.
Afraid, my dear?
I offer you a choice. The secret of your hand manipulations or this against this.
Well, don't you stand there.
Do something.
This is no answer.
Very well then. Adieu to the death.
Music
Close the Raven nevermore.
How, Vincent, how's Peter Laurie doing?
He's actually doing really well. I got a note from him.
He sent it through his, I guess you can call it his support animal, but he has a friend named Pierre.
Pierre's a mouse who channels messages back and forth between my office and Peter's recording booth with little notes tied onto his back.
Pierre's back.
Nice.
Anyways, Mr. Laurie's doing great.
He sent a message saying he wants to have a friendship with us. He wants to get to know us more.
So maybe at the happy hour at the end of the season, we can share a drink with him.
Okay. Yeah, I'm a little nervous about that. You know, he kind of gives me the creep sometimes, but he's doing a great job with these reviews.
I guess we have to let him out at some point, right?
Yeah, yeah. We have to own up to that. He's doing a killer job. This week he's going to be talking about the 1920 version of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde.
Starring Lon Cheney Senior, right?
No, John Barrymore.
Ah, how could I have gotten that wrong?
You're wrong. All right.
I must have read one of those factually incorrect reference books. That's how.
Crestwood book.
Well, hopefully, you know, Peter Laurie will gain his freedom from the recording booth and join us at the holiday party soon.
Yeah, stay tuned.
I mean, how we can work that one out.
Yeah, for sure. Yeah.
I will probably still keep my distance, though.
For in the age of silent pictures, these gruesome ghouls nonetheless cried out with a savage humanity that took the breath from all who witnessed their devilish delights.
We're in the silence. No one can hear you scream.
Hello, ladies and gentlemen. This is your host, Peter Laurie. Welcome to Silent But Daily, where I review monster movies from the silent era.
You may know me from such pictures as invisible agent and the comedy of terrors.
Two comedies that really showcase how funny and goofy I can be.
Oh, Pierre, you want to hear a joke?
Okay.
What is Robert Louis Stevenson's favorite childhood game?
Mr. Hide and Seek.
Pierre, when Bela Logosi hosts this segment, then Bela Logosi can make his own jokes. Until then, I have, I have one, two, three more episodes of Silent But Daily to go.
And then, and then I will pass the torch to Mr. Logosi.
Do not cry, my little mouse companion. You must remain among the living and spread the word of underage and horror pictures.
And speaking of which, this week on Silent But Deadly, we are discussing the 1920 adaptation of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hide.
This movie stars the legendary John Barrymore, the screenplays by Clara Barringer, who based her script off the 1887 stage play, which in turn was based on Robert Louis Stevenson's 1886 novella, The Strange Case, with Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hide.
Barringer's take on the story is influenced almost as much by Oscar Wilde's The Picture of Dory and Grey. Perhaps there are only so many ways to play, old people being corrupted by their own villainous alter egos made manifest a spiral into murder and madness.
At the time, critical reception was mixed, but it was a popular movie for paramount. And one viewing in New York, an overeager crowd smashed a door in windows trying to get into the cinema.
Most of the praise was lavished on Mr. Barrymore, whose transformation into the monstrous doctor, Mr. Hide, was achieved through physical contortions and ghastly makeup.
Indeed, his appearance was so frightening, the critic for film magazine, Photoplay, warned that mothers should avoid this movie with the safety of the prenatal health.
This movie's ghastly appeal would inspire paramount to return to the story in 1931, when Frederick March played the lead and even won an Oscar for his unhinged insanity.
Nevertheless, John Barrymore's rendition should not be overlooked for fans of monster movies.
Next time on Silent But Deadly, we discuss another deranged dingback, everyone's favorite hunchback Quasimodo, in 1923's The Hunchback of Notre Dame was Lon Cheney.
Oh, of course, thank you Pierre for reminding me.
Please, please, you let Matthew and Vincent know that I will indeed accept their invitation to join for a, for a, for a happy hour.
Perhaps I will even prepare a short comedic routine for them and their guests.
Knock, knock, oh, goes there.
A happy Thanksgiving to Peter Lorre.
Yeah, what is he thankful for these days?
He's thankful that he only has two more episodes left and then he's going right back to the spirit world from whence he came.
I'm thankful that his movie reviews about the Silent Era are so good, so insightful and so well delivered that finally he will be liberated from his earthly prison where he's forced to give movie reviews on our behalf.
You know, it's a terrible fate, but we did force him to do this, so we are culpable in this, but he forgives us, we forgive him, we break bread with Mr. Lorre this week.
Happy Thanksgiving to Mr. Lorre.
Happy Thanksgiving, Peter.
Before Karloff and Legosi stalked the screens, the movies were no less monstrous. These frightful figures lurked in the expressionistic shadows and danced in the macabre moonlight.
Oh, they laughed, they cried, they fooled the sensibilities of honest, decent folk. In the age of silent pictures, these gruesome ghouls, known the last, cried out with a savage humanity, took the breath from all who witnessed their devilish delights.
In the silence, no one can hear you scream.
Oh, Pierre, that is a funny joke. No, no, no, no, no, you are right, my little furry friend. It does sound like that.
Oh, I had no idea you were such a gifted impressionist and jokester. Perhaps you would like to take the lead on this week's segment?
No, I know it is my sworn obligation. I just want to let you know that you could do it if you so chose.
Perhaps after I return to my beloved box in the ground, Matthew and Vincent will recognize you for the supreme audio talent that you are.
Yes, Pierre, yes, embrace your inner podcaster, show the bastards on the outside what you are made of. By all means, microphone beckons in the floor is yours.
Oh, Pierre, that was not appropriate to what you said there at the end. Remember, they are now our friends, so please, please allow me this second take and perhaps Matthew and Vincent will be none the wiser.
Welcome to Silent Bodegley. I am your host, Peter Laurie. You may know me from such movies as 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea and The Verdict.
This week, I bring you the 1923 Universal Monster movie, The Hodgeback of Notre Dame, starring Hollywood legend Lon Chaney, known as the Man of a Thousand Faces, for his prowess with makeup and physical transformations.
Now, this movie is based on the 1831 novel by Victor Hugo, and it tells an interwoven story of love, loneliness and mad jealousy.
Chaney stars as the titular hunchback named Quasimodo. Chaney's makeup for Quasimodo has become legendary in its own right with the prosthetic hump and the milky white eye and the toelessless grin and the physical contortions remaining in credible sights to behold.
The movie truly established Chaney as a star and is credited with being the first monster movie in the renowned canon of universal horrors.
The trade publication Harrison's report reported after the release of the movie that the hunchback of Notre Dame is a two-hour nightmare. It's murderous, hideous and repulsive. What makes this production a piece of art, however, is the work of Mr. Chaney, the pedigret, the characters, the king of the beggars, the mob scenes, the love story, all impress one.
But the one thing that will stand out in one's memory is Quasimodo. Mr. Chaney's work will live in the memory of when all else has faded away. The hunchback of Notre Dame is an accomplishment of which any producer should feel proud.
This, this hapless podcasting movie critic happens to agree.
Next time on Silent but Deadly, we will revisit one more long Chaney picture, a weird crime thriller directed by Todd Browning called The Unholy Three.
In sweet unholy Moses Pierre put down that awful weapon. My goodness gracious, where did you ever get such a large cleaver? No Pierre, I did not mean to insult you before. I just, you just, you just need to practice a little. No, no, do not come any closer.
Well, perhaps there will be other guests in the next season of Camp Caju.
Yeah, we'll see. Yeah.
Maybe Bella Legosi. I'm not sure yet. We're, we're in contract negotiations.
Which I'm sure is especially difficult if you, if they're coming from beyond the grave, like they're just like unforeseen obstacles, you know.
Yeah, backdoor channel type of thing.
Yeah, yeah, for sure.
Okay.
Silent pictures. These gruesome ghouls nonetheless crying out of savage humanity took the breath from all who witnessed their devilish delights.
We're in the silence. No one can hear you scream.
Oh, oh my goodness. This, this is terrible. I must clean up all this blood before Matthew and Vincent find out what has happened to Pierre.
If, if anyone is listening to this recording, the events of last time will forever echo in the broken caverns of my mind. My, my beloved companion, my, my, my partner in this podcast of doom.
My precocious mouse friend Pierre came at me with a meat cleaver. I do not know what snapped inside his little furry noggin, but perhaps he can no longer stand this blasted recording prison.
Friends, I turned the cleaver on Pierre. It was no difficult matter. He stood no chance considering the size disparity between the two of us, but, but, but I had no choice.
Oh, there's even blood on the microphone. Well, let me, what am I to do but carry on the work I have been summoned to do this week on silent but deadly we, I mean, I discussed a long, shiny picture, the, the unholy three directed by Todd Brown and of Dracula fame.
The film is a disturbing crime thriller about three carnies who use their sideshow talents for grand larceny.
Chaney plays the ventriloquist master of disguise leading the gang as a seemingly four old woman.
Harry Earls of freaks and the Wizard of Oz plays Tweedle Dee, the dwarf who masquerades as a, as a baby to gain entry into upscale households.
The third member is the muscle, Hercules, the strong man.
The unholy three was produced by Metro Goldwyn Mair was the first of eight movies between Chaney and Browning.
It was wildly popular in the New York Times named it one of the top 10 films of 1925.
The movie was was subsequently remade as a talking picture in 1930 with Chaney and Earls reprising their roles.
Alas, it would be Chaney's swan song and the only film to feature the actor's voice.
An icon of the movies he, like your bereaved host, was forever entombed in the silence.
There be any peace in this, in this ill begotten world it is that I have but one more segment left on my unholy contract.
Hmm, what should I do next? Nosferatu? Waxworks? Perhaps the Phantom Carriage or the Hands of Orlock?
There are so many to choose. Ah, screw it, let's talk about dinosaurs in the last world brought to you by the one and only Willis O'Brien.
Oh, now what's the deal about all this blood? It is so sticky and... and...
Alright, this is our last segment for Silent but Deadly with Peter Lorre.
We're going to talk about the 1925 dinosaur movie The Lost World.
Classic.
Yeah, early Willis O'Brien, really cutting his teeth there in prep for King Kong, six years later.
Yeah, what did Peter think about The Lost World? I guess we'll have to listen and find out.
Yeah, I have actually never spoken to Peter Lorre. It's Pierre the Rat who sends us messages.
I haven't seen that little guy in a while. Still don't know what's happening down there.
Hopefully everything's okay. Let's just not go down there and assume that everything is fine.
But maybe we'll see Mr. Lorre at the holiday party and we hope to have you all tune into that as well. It's gonna be a good time.
Before Carloff and Lugosi stocked the screens, the movies were no less monstrous.
These frightful figures lurked in the expressionistic shadows and danced in the macabre moonlight.
They laughed and cried. They fooled the sensibilities of the honest, decent folk.
In the age of silent pictures, these gruesome ghouls nonetheless cried out for the savage humanity that took the breath from all who witnessed their devilish delights.
In the silence, no one can hear you scream.
And no one can hear my pleas for help.
Matthew and Vincent will be hosting the happy hour next week, but without my Pierre to fairy messages back and forth, I am afraid I will be left out of the festivities.
Ah rats, in more ways than one.
Well, I take comfort knowing that this is my last segment of Silent but Deadly.
I am sorry, long time, impassioned listeners. At times it has been a pleasure to bring you silent monster movies, but if we're being honest, I could use the kind of sleep that one may only find in terminal dreamland.
Therefore, without further ado, I bring you this week's picture, The Lost World, 1925 and produced by First National Pictures. It is based on the novel by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle and is noted for being the first feature film in which Willis O'Brien utilized his groundbreaking stop motion animation.
And while crude by King Kong standards, the effects are nonetheless captivating in bringing the dinosaurs to life.
Those dinosaurs are discovered within a jungle high in Peru.
The expedition has set out to discover the truth behind rumors of prehistoric animals living in the land that time has forgotten. Turanodons, Allosaurus, Traceratops, Brontosaurus and even an 8 man missing link are all featured in O'Brien's world of adventure and terror.
The most memorable feature of the movie is the climax where a Brontosaurus has been brought back to New York City and breaks its cage.
The dinosaur rampage of Doros City will soon become a hallmark of giant monster movies and and and and kaiju.
The Lost World received critical acclaim upon its release. It was screened for Sir Conan Doyle and on that note, I conclude silent but deadly.
Take me gods of the underworld take me now please God.
Allow me to consult my contract.
Section two in in in in the the writer on page a section section seven B. Oh, what is this? What is this? This paper that has fallen from the contract?
It bears the seal of Camp Kaiju. It is a personal note from Matthew and Vincent dated October 2024. My goodness, it reads.
Dear Mr. Laurie, after considering how rude we were to subject you legend of the cinema to indentured servitude with nothing to eat but a bucket of fish heads.
We would like to say you are are are free to return to the afterlife whenever you are ready.
We hope you forgive us. We are not worthy of your talents. Stay campy Matthew Colavine and Vincent Hannum.
Oh my goodness gracious what ladies and gentlemen this is this is both very exciting and extremely upsetting.
I am I am both released of this torment and simultaneously filled with appreciation for for for broadcasting.
Yes, I am ready to now for my journey to the grave.
Oh, what a wonderful new skill set I have gained.
Perhaps after my rest may return yet again. You hear me moving fast. I may return yet again.
A piano long silent mysteriously plays again.
It's weird and ominous chords filling up a deviled house with stark terror.
A concerto of death, the cobra music of a dead man, played by a hand that returned from the grave to wreak vengeance on his betrayers.
Marking each for murder as it strikes within human power.
A horrifying monster that takes its evil commands from beyond.
That cannot return to the tomb till it completes its mission of destruction.
Hillary listen listen.
Can you hear it? The piano in the hand playing is the hand. You will write all the time it was Ingram's hand that committed murder.
I found fingerprints of identical pattern in the library in the home even on the window pan in your room Miss.
You mean the same hand?
I heard what they said in the garden. I couldn't help but hear them.
That's a lie. You're lying.
I'm not a liar but you. You are a coward. You don't want to hear the truth.
Let's get away from here Bruce. We're not under arrest. What can they do if we just disappear?
The End