Shield-3

My wife absolutely adores this show. And why shouldn't she? It appeals to a specific demographic (women who want "Steel Magnolias the Series", but with younger, more diverse characters), and it does that very well. It's only a series of zooming close-ups away from being a telenovela... and there is nothing wrong with that.

The writing is no-nonsense. The acting is competent (the actors seem to know their lines and can fake a passable Southern accent). The production produces episode after episode that is in color, in English, and in focus. It's a Timex watch: functional... if not exceptional.

... back when it was called "Candid Camera," or "TV's Bloopers and Practical Jokes."

I suppose there's a lot of kids watching "Punk'd" who don't remember those older shows, so the whole concept is probably fresh to them. For me, though, a half-hour of Ashton Kutcher setting up people for pranks and then bragging out it gets really old. He reminds me of the kid who makes prank phone calls and brags about the next day at school. What fun.

Seriously, Kutcher -- you have a supporting role on a sitcom, made a few moderately successful films, you're dating Demi Moore... don't you think your fifteen minutes are almost up?

There's just something about watching an MGM musical from their golden age. Musicals from that time had a special look and feel like nothing before or since, wonderful displays of showmanship and design and talent that cast a gorgeous glow over the screen. Sure, they were corny and silly sometimes, but they entertained.

`Two Weeks With Love' is typical of this period. The story follows adolescent Patti Robinson (Jane Powell) on her family vacation to Kissimee in the Catskills, where she meets and falls in love with the dashing Demi Armendez (Ricardo Montalban). Patti pursues Demi and the hotel bellboy Billy (Carleton Carpenter) pursues Patti and Patti's sister Melba (Debbie Reynolds) pursues Billy, and Patti and Melba's Mama and Papa (Ann Harding and Louis Calhern) struggle to accept that their little girl is growing up…

`Two Weeks' is one of those movies that's a pure joy to watch, just ninety minutes of lighthearted fun and sweetness. It's a time capsule from a simpler age, when problems were never really as bad as they seemed and true love could conquer all. Sigh

There's a certain mystique around the Spanish-language version of `Dracula,' filmed simultaneously with Tod Browning's English-language version. Legend has it that director George Melford would screen the English dailies and make improvements as they went along. There are those who say the Spanish version is better, more atmospheric than Browning's static, stagebound film.

Well… the Spanish `Dracula' has a lot going for it. The camerawork is much more mobile and expressive: the scene where we first meet Dracula is a prime example. In the English version, we simply see Dracula walking down his castle's grand staircase to meet Renfield; in the Spanish version, the camera's point of view swoops up the stairs and frames the Count in a dramatic low-angle pose. I particularly enjoy the way the Spanish version shows Dracula emerging from his coffin: the coffin lid raises, a puff of smoke, and Dracula appears out of the gloom, much more atmospheric and innovative than the cutaways used in the English version.

The acting is a mixed bag. Carlos Villarias does his best, but his Dracula pales to Lugosi's (many have said that a `Dracula' directed by Melford and starring Lugosi would have been a wonder to behold, and they might be right). Lupita Tovar makes a sensual and appealing Eva, contrasting favorably with the bland Helen Chandler in the English version. Eduardo Arozamena does a credible Van Helsing, but his potato nose and Coke-bottle glasses makes him look like Henry Kissinger, Vampire Hunter.

From a stylistic viewpoint, the Spanish `Dracula' does a lot more than Browning's film, and it's certainly worth a viewing. However, it lacks one vital ingredient that keeps it from eclipsing the English version: Bela Lugosi as Dracula.

I have fond memories of this show, which one of our local independent stations used to air on Sunday afternoons as part of `Tarzan Theatre.' I loved the show at first simply because I was a big Tarzan fan, but I truly came to appreciate it once I started reading Edgar Rice Burroughs' novels. This is one of the few times Tarzan is portrayed as ERB envisioned him: intelligent and articulate. ERB, however, gave Tarzan a savage and violent side, something you would never see on a `family' TV series of the 1960s. Fortunately, the producers compensated by loading the show with plenty of action.

All the elements came together nicely: Ron Ely had both the physical presence and the acting skill to play a convincing ape-man. I've heard stories of the punishment he took while making the series, injuries that would make Jackie Chan wince, but he kept going. The producers were smart enough not to film in a studio jungle set, but instead take the show on location. The Mexican locations were a gorgeous stand-in for the African savanna and rain forests, and they increase the show's credibility.

There's just one thing I never liked: Jai. I realize there's probably a lot of Jai fans out there, but the kid just irritated me. His main function was both to ask simplistic questions about what was going on so Tarzan could explain for his (and the audience's) benefit, and to eat up valuable screen time that could be spent on Tarzan. It's part of the whole `juvenile sidekick' syndrome in TV, movies and comics that drives me nuts. Ugh.

In spite of that, `Tarzan' was a great series, deserving of much more attention than it currently gets. It may not be the way * you * see Tarzan, but you can't deny it was a well-crafted, exciting and eminently watchable show.

Looking back on `The Lone Ranger' TV series as an adult is a strange experience. Watching episodes through an adult's eyes alerted me to flaws I didn't notice when I was a kid: the acting was sometimes on the B-movie level. The stories tended to be repetitive and simplistic. The Native Americans were generally played by Caucasian or Hispanic or Italian-American actors. The `outdoor' exteriors in a lot of episodes were obviously indoor sets. But there is a spirit and an energy to the show that you can't deny.

Most of the credit for the show's success goes to its leads, Clayton Moore and Jay Silverheels. They became the Lone Ranger and Tonto, lived the roles as no other actors before or since. Moore, in particular, knew the Ranger was presented as a hero and an example to children, and from what I've heard, he tried his best to live up to that. He made the Ranger a fair and just man, someone who didn't judge, who gave people the benefit of the doubt, but acted correctly when the time was right. He used violence only as a last resort. He was a symbol of honor and integrity, the kind of person I wish I could be.

As for Tonto... It occurs to me nowadays how great an actor Jay Silverheels was. Critics of the show always want to use Tonto as the stereotypical ignorant savage, but you have to look at all the things Tonto does. Tonto tracks, takes care of the Ranger when he's wounded, spies out information - you can tell from the expressions on Silverheels' face that there's a lot more going on inside Tonto's head than he lets on. Don't let the broken English fool you!

The thing that really impresses me about `The Lone Ranger' now is how much of a partnership these two characters have. Tonto is not the Ranger's subordinate - they are friends, equals in their adventures. That, as much as any lesson taught in any episode, is what draws me back to the series after so many years: a tried and true friendship.

Oh, if only the Lone Ranger could ride again.

Every time I watch "Mountains of the Moon," I grow more and more fascinated by it. An epic drama and adventure, an exploration of what makes a hero and the value of friendship... this movie is a marvel.

I barely know where to begin. The acting is exceptional, of course. Patrick Bergin really makes Captain Richard Francis Burton come alive, so much so that I started reading up on Burton on my own after seeing the movie. His Burton is a man of great courage and insatiable curiosity, but also of great pride (the film only hints at Burton's infamous sexual escapades). Iain Glen brings great depth to John Hanning Speke, a man who desires greatness but cannot escape his fundamental weakness. It would have been so easy to make these two characters into square-jawed cartoons or place them in the easy Great Hero / Cowardly Villain mold, but director Bob Rafaelson, the script, and the actors wisely give us three-dimensional real people.

While I was watching this movie, I felt like I was actually transported to Africa in the 1850s, when the first explorers ventured into what was truly the Dark Continent. You see Burton and Speke's expedition endure weather, illness, injury, and attacks by hostile tribesmen, bringing home the reality of how dangerous these expeditions really were. By the time the film ended, I felt I had been to Africa itself.

If you want to see a real epic and a fine, exciting film, this is the one to see.

This was my first exposure to Tarzan, along with the old Johnny Weismuller movies, although I remember being confused at the differences between the two versions. I preferred my Tarzan `smart,' meaning speaking perfect English, but I always wondered why the cartoon Tarzan didn't carry a knife (thanks, network censors!) But otherwise it was perfect, the kind of show that made me go out in the backyard and do Tarzan yells until I was hoarse. It also made me seek out the Tarzan novels in my school library, and made me a fan of one of fiction's great heroes.

I really wish someone would show this series again (Cartoon Network, I'm looking at you!) It had adventure, excitement, fine animation, and it made an excellent introduction to the Tarzan legend. I hope I get to see it again someday.

I remember a time in the late 1970s – early 1980s when filmmakers were trying to resurrect the old movie heroes into new franchises. Tarzan, Flash Gordon, the Lone Ranger, Superman, Zorro – they were all trotted out, with results varying from excellent ('Superman: The Movie') to fun ('Flash Gordon') to 'What were they thinking?' (just about everything else)

Let's be fair: John Badham's 1979 version of 'Dracula' is not nearly as bad as the Bo Derek 'Tarzan the Ape Man' or 'Legend of the Lone Ranger,' but it's still not very good. There are a few moments of inspiration, and some good work running through, but overall this is one of the lesser Dracula movies.

A few words about the cast. Frank Langella wouldn't be my first choice to play Count Dracula, but he acquits himself well. His Dracula is an elegant, arrogant creature, a being who enjoys toying with the mortals around him before he destroys them. Watching his superior attitude, I could almost believe this creature had survived centuries and destroyed whole armies of opponents. Opposite Dracula is his perennial adversary, Dr. Van Helsing, played by the legendary Sir Laurence Olivier. Olivier gives the old vampire hunter a class and humanity lacking in most portrayals, although you can see the famous Van Helsing iron will in his face-to-face confrontations with the vampire king. The rest of the cast, alas, tends to fade into the background – you enjoy them while they're on screen, but the moment they leave, they evaporate from your consciousness.

One of the things I particularly enjoyed about this 'Dracula' was its music, composed by the legendary John Williams. The decade between 1975-1984 had Williams producing classics like 'Jaws,' the 'Star Wars' trilogy, 'Superman' and the first two Indiana Jones films, one after the other – this score compares favorably with those works, and gives the movie a distinct orchestral voice. There are some passages, particularly at the beginning of the dinner party scenes, that remind me of passages from 'The Empire Strikes Back,' one year later.

So, there are things to like in this movie, but overwhelming flaws cripple it. The supporting cast, as I mentioned, is bland to the point of invisibility. The pace is uneven, and the dialogue is awkward. Worst of all, the filmmakers can't seem to decide if they want their movie to be a classic horror tale or a Gothic romance. There's no reason why it couldn't be both, of course, but that means there has to be elements of both styles present, and 'Dracula' is neither consistently scary or sexy. It has it's moments, but not enough to sustain the tone and save the picture. While it remains watchable, this 'Dracula' is one I just can't bring myself to truly recommend.

I think the secret of this film is to not dwell on whether or not it is an accurate adaptation of Stoker's novel: it isn't. I remember a literature professor I had in college who taught `Dracula' in one of his classes; he said there was always at least one student every semester who would try to get around actually reading the novel by watching the movie instead. If they try that trick with this version of `Dracula,' they're in for a surprise. There are details here you don't see in other Dracula movies, like the blue flames on the road to Dracula's castle, or Dracula wandering the streets of London in daylight. Then there's BIG changes, like an origin for Dracula and the romance between the count and Mina. This is a shift in the fundamental character of Dracula, altering him from a dangerous predator, almost a plague unto himself, to a tragic lover, thus changing the tone of the entire story.

Okay, so `Bram Stoker's Dracula' isn't Stoker's after all. Does that make it a bad movie? Hardly. This `Dracula' is an epic, Gothic, lush thrill that builds to a near-hysterical pace. It succeeds in mimicking the novel's sense of panic and overwhelming horror, and if you can accept the film on its own outrageous terms, then you can enjoy it.

A word about the casting, which wanders from perfect to baffling. Anthony Hopkins brings his usual class and presence to Van Helsing, creating an aura of forbidden knowledge around the professor. Gary Oldman makes a fine Dracula, sometimes swathed in heavy makeup for Dracula's many changes, but always projecting an arrogance laced with tragedy. William O. Campbell, Richard E. Grant and Cary Elwes are perfect as Lucy Westenra's three suitors, just as I imagined them. Then, for some reason, the producers injected Keanu Reeves and Winona Ryder into the mix: while they are fine actors, they just don't belong here, and the movie suffers for it.

So. While it's not the definitive retelling of Stoker's novel that it claims to be, `Bram Stoker's Dracula' is still an atmospheric, grandiose movie, and well worth watching.

My attitude towards this show has evolved over the years. I first discovered it in 5th grade, and being a big superhero fan, I fell in love with it. I loved the action, the cartoonishness, the fun of the whole thing.

Then my tastes matured. I started reading the Batman comics, became exposed to the Dark Knight instead of the Caped Crusader, and I began to regard the 1960s series with disdain. Silliness, an insult to the character, I said to himself. This was around the time of the first Batman movie in 1989, when the darkest possible knight reigned supreme.

But then... I started looking back at the show, and I started to get it. I figured out that the show was as much a comedy as anything else -- it wasn't making fun of Batman, it was making light of the entire superhero genre. It was a big, loud, garish cartoon, and when you put aside your conceptions of who Batman is, you can have yourself a great time. It makes superheroes fun again.

By the way: I hear TV Land is planning on bringing "Batman" to their schedule sometime in 2002. I can't wait!

They don't make ‘em like this anymore. I doubt today's Hollywood COULD make a film as magical or funny or lyrical as `The Court Jester,' mainly because there will never be another Danny Kaye.

`The Court Jester' works best if you're familiar with the conventions of the costume swashbucklers Hollywood used to make, but I think the uninitiated should have a good time, too. It really is very similar to the classic `Adventures of Robin Hood,' sharing many of the same themes, the same villain (the fantastic Basil Rathbone), and same colorful look. But the great thing about `The Court Jester' is its fantastic sense of fun and excitement – like any great adventure, it never takes itself too seriously. There are so many great moments here: Hawkins' (Kaye) songs and his flirtations with the Princess (Angela Lansbury) and his plotting with Ravenhurst (Rathbone); the joust sequence with it's wonderful tongue-twister; the final sword duel between Hawkins and Ravenhurst. All the elements work together beautifully, and it makes `The Court Jester' a true classic.

There are a lot of horror fans who put this movie down because they see it as the last straw. By the late 1940s, Universal had put their classic monster franchises through just about every gimmick – starting with this movie, the monsters would be played for laughs. This, as far as many fans are concerned, was the latest in a long string of indignities.

But, I ask, have you ever really watched `Abbott & Costello Meet Frankenstein?'

First of all, it's laugh-til-you-cry funny. This is Abbott & Costello at their height, back when you had actual comedians doing comedy, not just any actor who decide to try something different. Bud and Lou are not just funny, they're having fun, and it makes the end product even more fun to watch.

But the real secret to the movie is that they don't try to make the monsters funny. The holy trinity of Universal horror (the Frankenstein Monster, Dracula and the Wolf Man) are allowed to just be their normal menacing selves. Bela Lugosi returns to the role of Dracula, and reaffirms his title as the greatest vampire of all. Lon Chaney does his patented agonized schtick, but fortunately he has Abbott & Costello to play off of this time. And Glenn Strange does his usual workmanlike job as the Monster – he never earns your sympathy the same way Karloff did, but he still entertains.

`Abbott & Costello Meet Frankenstein' works as an affectionate send-off for the classic monsters. It's one of the funniest horror comedies ever made: only `Young Frankenstein' or `Love at First Bite' come close, I think.

So, at what point do you just give up a lucrative franchise? Do you quit while you're ahead artistically, or try to wring out every last cent? It's pretty clear how Universal executives felt when you look at `House of Frankenstein.'

This chapter of the Frankenstein story follows an episodic path. The tale of Dracula seducing his way into a family works on a short-story level -- I would have preferred Bela Lugosi as Dracula instead of John Carradine, but everything worked out well. The second half, the recovery of the Wolf Man and Frankenstein's Monster and the search for Dr. Frankenstein's secrets, goes through its paces faithfully, but the centerpiece of the movie is the tragic romantic triangle between the hunchbacked Daniel (J. Carroll Nash), the beautiful Gypsy, and the suicidal Larry Talbot (Lon Chaney). The actors all do good work: Boris Karloff makes his return to the Frankenstein series here playing a mad scientist, which he performs with glee. J. Carroll Nash's Daniel becomes a sympathetic character, and the girls (Anne Gwynne and Elena Verdugo) are attractive and appealing. On the other hand there's John Carradine as a not-very-convincing Dracula, Lon Chaney's increasingly tired hysterics as Larry Talbot / The Wolf Man, and Glenn Strange does little as the Frankenstein Monster except lie on a slab and finally get up and lumber around a bit.

A big plus: `House' features another appearance of the incredibly durable Frankenstein lab equipment, which I always get a kick out of seeing. It amazes me that no matter how many times that equipment gets blown up or washed away or buried, it always comes back for the next sequel, more or less intact. That Henry Frankenstein (the original designer and builder of those mechanisms) would have made a heck of a mechanic!

There isn't anything about `House of Frankenstein' that is really bad, it's just that there isn't any particularly good in it, especially in light of what had come before.

Rumor has it James Whale was supposed to direct the sequel to `Dracula,' and it was to be a camp masterpiece that would surpass even Whale's masterwork, `Bride of Frankenstein.' Sadly, the ownership of Universal Studios changed hands, Whale fell out of favor, and directorship of `Dracula's Daughter' went to Lambert Hillyear. It turns out Hillyear was a good choice: `Dracula's Daughter' is a small gem of ambiance, suspense, and a fair amount of wit.

The great charm of the old Universal horror films is their combination of evocative atmosphere, good writing and good acting. `Dracula's Daughter' has all these in spades. Particularly interesting is the interaction between Otto Kruger and Marguerite Churchill as psychiatrist Dr. Jeffrey Garth and his assistant, Janet – they have a running verbal repartee like a good screwball comedy. By the end of this movie, I wouldn't have minded seeing Dr. Garth and Janet in another adventure. Ah, well.

But the movie's center is the Daughter herself, Countess Marya Zaleska, played by Gloria Holden. Tall, slender and bewitching (those eyes… oh, those eyes!), she echoes Bela Lugosi's aristocratic demeanor and matches it with a seductiveness of her own. Counterbalancing Holden is Irving Pichel as her servant Sandor, who is appropriately menacing and plays devil's advocate to her desire to be rid of the vampire's curse. There is no better sequence to display that vampiric desire than the scenes with the streetwalker Lili (played by Nan Grey), brought to the Countess' studio to pose, only to end up her victim.

In many ways, `Dracula's Daughter' is better than the original `Dracula' – it moves quicker, and its characters are livelier. Of course, the shadow of Bela Lugosi is long and deep, and the original's got a lot going for it, too. Together, they make a fine pair – father and daughter, a family tradition.

In the mid 1940s, Universal was still making their classic horror movies, but their corner of the genre was rapidly running out of steam. While none of these post-1941 films is all that bad, it's very clear the magic of the 1930s was gone.

`Frankenstein Meets the Wolf Man' is symptomatic of the era. Someone figured that if one monster is good, two monsters are better, and that logic almost works. We see the return of Lawrence Talbot, the Wolf Man (once again played by Lon Chaney Jr.), who is horrified by his immortality and desperate to die. He seeks out yet another Frankenstein heir (Ilona Massey), who, along with Dr Mannering (Patric Knowles) try to drain the Wolf Man's life energies into the Frankenstein Monster (now played by Bela Lugosi). Naturally, things don't quite work out that way…

The pieces are all there, but they never quite come together. Chaney does his usual workmanlike job as the tortured Lawrence Talbot, seeking death to free him from his curse. That whole schtick would get really old after a while, but as of `Frankenstein Meets the Wolf Man' it still worked. Patric Knowles is good, going from the mystery of Lawrence Talbot to an obsession with the Frankenstein Monster. The other actors contribute and do their best, but the whole enterprise never quite… you know.

I think my big problem with `Frankenstein Meets the Wolf Man' is Bela Lugosi as the Monster. In `Ghost of Frankenstein,' Lugosi's character, Ygor, had his brain implanted into the Monster with unexpected results. I understand the original script had the Monster now speaking with Ygor's voice, but the studio decided the effect was silly and had Lugosi's dialogue erased. Of course, now when you have characters talking to the Monster, you see the Monster's lips move with no sound, and then the characters reply. Which effect would be more ludicrous: the Monster speaking with an Eastern European accent or spontaneous telepathy? It doesn't help that Lugosi, while a fine actor in other roles, just isn't a very imposing Monster. He looks short, awkward and uncomfortable.

Even though the villagers seemed to destroy the menaces of the Monster and the Wolf Man, they would be back… and they would bring friends

`Son of Frankenstein,' the third Frankenstein movie from Universal, started a trend. In the first two movies, the Monster was an active force in the story – his actions carried the story along. By the third film, he became a background character, more prop than participant (which is what Boris Karloff feared would happen). By the fourth film in the series, `Ghost of Frankenstein,' the transformation is complete: the Monster is now a supporting character in his own movie.

The real star of the movie is Bela Lugosi as Ygor, continuing his role from `Son of Frankenstein.' Miraculously recovered from death by gunshot wounds, he finds the Monster (now played by Lon Chaney Jr) and sets off the restore his friend to full power. He locates Dr. Ludwig Frankenstein (Cedric Hardwicke), a respected physician in the nearby town of Visaria, and blackmails him into helping with his father's creation. But Ygor is also plotting with Dr. Frankenstein's fellow scientist Dr. Bohmer (Lionel Atwill in his second Frankenstein film) to alter the experiment a little…

`Ghost of Frankenstein' comes across as insubstantial when you compare it to the first three Frankensteins. The acting is decent: Bela Lugosi does a good job hamming it up as Ygor (a far cry from the elegant Count Dracula), and the other players go through their paces admirably. Lon Chaney makes a competent Monster; he can lurch pretty well, and has a few moments of pathos, but he doesn't get much a chance to really act. Of course, that's not really his fault; the script didn't give him much to do.

I suppose `ghostly' is the best word to describe this movie after all. It manages to generate atmosphere and thrills when you're watching it, but it dissipates in the light of day.

In the 1940s, every studio had at least one genre they excelled at. Universal had horror films, Warner Brothers had crime dramas and social commentaries, MGM had lavish musicals and costume dramas. Republic Studios was near the bottom of the barrel, but they had something they did better than anyone else: serials, weekly chapterplays where the heroes faced a deadly peril at the end of each episode. No one did them better than Republic. They had the best writing, music, special effects, stuntmen, and these factors added up to the best serials of all time: `Zorro's Fighting Legion,' `The Lone Ranger,' `The Adventures of Captain Marvel,' `Spy Smasher,' and others.

But by 1944, the Republic formula had become just that, formula. `Captain America' is a product of a studio and a genre in decline. While the movie is technically proficient and slickly produced, the thrill and excitement is gone.

Any Captain America fan seeing this movie without prior warning is in for a shock: Republic was notorious for making arbitrary changes to characters, and Captain America had it worse than anyone. Instead of being Private Steve Rogers of the United States Army, now he was Grant Gardner, District Attorney of an unnamed American city. His trademark shield was gone, replaced by a mundane .38-caliber revolver. His sidekick, Bucky, was also missing, so Cap was assisted by an efficient secretary, Gail Richards (Lorna Grey). Most bizarre was ignoring the whole World War II angle – instead of having Captain America battle spies and saboteurs like he did in the comics, they had him battling a run-of-the-mill criminal mastermind, Cyrus Maldor (Lionel Atwill), alias the Scarab. It strikes me as an odd choice for an overtly patriotic hero in the middle of a world war, but…

Dick Purcell does a good job as Grant Gardner / Captain America, although he wasn't the best physical match for the part. Most of the young, trim guys were off fighting the war, so instead you have the nicely-rounded Purcell in the tights. Sometimes he looks more like Captain Dad than Captain America, but Purcell still does a decent job. Lorna Grey makes a surprisingly sexy sidekick (I can imagine younger moviegoers in 1944 lamenting Cap hanging out with a girl instead of his pal Bucky, while the slightly older audience would see the improvement). Lionel Atwill is appropriately scheming and menacing, but his climactic fistfight with Captain America stretches credibility a little too much.

The two words that best describe `Captain America' are `competent' and `tired.' The serial goes through all the paces and delivers some excitement, but the classic Republic crispness, the snap, is gone. The serials would die slowly over the next twelve years, doomed to exhaustion and competition from television, but the glories of those years live on in memory.

Listen to the Warren Zevon jokes fly…

The secret to telling stories in any media, be it books, plays, TV or movies, is to make the audience care about the characters. The hero of `Werewolf of London,' Wilfred Glendon (Henry Hull), manages to earn our sympathy: he's a botanist obsessed with his studies to the point where he neglects his beautiful young wife Lisa (Valerie Hobson). His ordered life disintegrates when he is attacked by a werewolf in Tibet; he realizes he is doomed to the lycanthrope's savage curse at the same time his wife begins flirting with an old flame, Paul (Lester Matthews). The logical foundation of Glendon's life flies apart, and he came face-to-face with his brutal animal nature.

`Werewolf of London,' like most of the classic Universal horror pictures, is heavy on atmosphere, lots of shadows and fog. The transformation sequences and the makeup are good, although not as proficient as `The Wolf Man' six years later. The Werewolf of London struck me as a more sinister creature than the Wolf Man in his deliberateness. The Werewolf would even wear a sort of disguise as he stalked the streets of London, using his intelligence, whereas the Wolf Man was a more savage, animalistic force that attacked anyone nearby. It makes you wonder who would win a fight between the two…

And, as is usual for the old Universal horror films, the acting is very good. Henry Hull moves from stuffy academic to tortured soul, and brings us along for the ride (reminiscent of Basil Rathbone's deterioration in `Son of Frankenstein.') Valerie Hobson is luminous as always, and Warner Oland is quietly menacing as Dr. Yogami, who has an inside knowledge of `werewolfery.'

`Werewolf of London' will probably always be in the shadow of its successor, and rightfully so. There's nothing wrong with `Werewolf,' but there also isn't anything here that `Wolf Man' doesn't do better. It's just part of the horror evolution, a lesson well learned.

`Jaws 2' gets a bum rap sometimes. Yes, it's not as good as the original `Jaws,' but it's still pretty good. Considering the conditions under which it was made (constant rewrites, changing directors after filming had started, the usual technical difficulties), it's better than it could have been, and much better than the sequels that followed.

Now, being a sequel shouldn't automatically doom a movie. When you have a logical continuation of the first movie, or a new adventure with the same characters, then you're okay. It's when a sequel repeats the original, that's when you get a bad case of `sequelitis.' `Jaws 2' is the same basic story as the original (shark terrorizes seaside community), but there are enough variations on the theme to make the movie exciting. You see much more of the shark, which isn't always a good thing: the script manages to give the shark some impressive burn scars, but otherwise it's indistinguishable from the original.

The overall feeling of `Jaws 2' is lighter, if not lightweight. There were times when `Jaws' seemed like a Hitchcock film; much of the time, `Jaws 2' is like one of Roger Corman's 1950s monster movies, and that's not necessarily bad. It's an entertaining way of killing two hours, leaving pleasant memories of itself and its predecessor in its wake.

One of the things that struck me upon watching `Jaws' again recently was how little we see the shark. I remembered the shark being in this movie much more, and killing many more people, but the actual film is different. Instead, the film relies much more on suspense than on shock – you know the shark is out there, but you don't know where he is or when he will appear. It makes the time he does appear than much more powerful.

There's a lesson to be learned here, filmmakers: less is more. The anticipation of the event is much more powerful than the event itself. Hitchcock understood that; Spielberg understands it (or did back when he made `Jaws,' not too sure anymore). A movie need not move from shock to shock, from special effect to stunt; if there is a story, it will have legs of its own. `Jaws' works because it plays on our fear of the unknown, of being eaten alive, of the deep water and what might be down there. It's real fear, much more personal and chilling than any werewolf or vampire because we know there are such things in the oceans.

I don't know how many times I'd seen `Young Frankenstein,' but I was still amazed when a friend pointed out something new. Take a look at the scene where Dr. Frankenstein meets Igor at the train station, and the `walk this way' gag. My friend pointed out that if you look at Igor, you see him look at the camera and tilt his head at Frankenstein as he's shuffling down the steps, sort of a `look at what I'm getting this idiot to do!' aside to the audience. I'd watched that scene dozens of times, but I never noticed that look until then. That's the mark of a classic, though, isn't it? When you can watch a movie over and over and still find new details and bits of interest, it keeps the movie fresh and new.

The secret of `Young Frankenstein' is respect. The script and the actors respect the audience's intelligence, and also respect the memory of the movies they're parodying. You can feel the affection scriptwriters Wilder and Brooks have the original Frankenstein movies, and `Young Frankenstein' almost functions as condensed highlights of the classic Universal films. The end result is a gentle ribbing of those movies (which didn't always take themselves too seriously to begin with) and one of the funniest comedies ever.

It wasn't the first werewolf movie (that honor goes to `Werewolf of London'), but it was `The Wolf Man' that gives us most of the werewolf mythology we still cling to today.

As with most classics, `The Wolf Man' draws its power from a combination of elements. First, there's Curt Siodmak's plausible and intelligent script. Siodmak said he was given a title, a star and a start date, and from there he consolidated and invented the werewolf myth into a cohesive, logical format.

Then there's the actors, a veritable who's who of 1930s-40s Universal horror. Lon Chaney joins the pantheon on great horror actors on this one, playing the tormented Larry Talbot. He manages to give Larry a tragic quality, a man trapped by a curse he doesn't understand or deserve. Chaney also generates considerable chemistry with the luminous Evelyn Ankers, which is surprising considering the rumors that the two practically hated each other. And then there's the always-excellent Claude Rains, who doesn't look very much like Lon Chaney's father, but still exudes quiet authority and authenticity.

Topping off the whole package is a healthy dollop of atmosphere: foggy forests, Gothic mansions and crypts, colorful Gypsy encampments. Each bit of design enhances the sense of mystery and dread that surround Larry Talbot, and burns `The Wolf Man' into your memory.

I'll never walk a foggy forest at night again!

`Bride of Frankenstein' represents the Universal horror machine at the absolute peak of its powers. Everything in this movie meshes together perfectly: script, acting, sets, music. The film zooms from horror to comedy to melodrama and never misses a step.

Where to begin?

Boris Karloff returns as the Monster, still misunderstood, still searching for friendship and love. I don't think I'm spoiling any surprises when I say that the Monster learns to speak here; not the eloquent Monster of Mary Shelley's novel, but Karloff's wonderfully lonely voice. It opens up untold dimensions in the Monster, making him even more sympathetic than before.

On the polar opposite is Ernest Thiesiger as the flamboyant Doctor Pretorious. Whereas the Monster becomes more sympathetic throughout the film, Pretorious grows more and more outrageous, reaching epic heights of camp excellence. It's obvious Thiesiger is having the time of his life, and we can't help but have fun watching him.

`Bride of Frankenstein' ends up as one of the most operatic horror movies ever. It's a classic in every sense of the word, and worthy of being watched over and over again.

We all know Frankenstein's Monster, or think we do. The face of the Monster has become a pop art institution up there with Elvis and Mickey Mouse – but somewhere along the way, the Monster became so familiar, it quit being scary. Watching Boris Karloff in the original 1931 `Frankenstein' is a revelation.

The centerpiece of `Frankenstein' is Karloff's uncanny performance. I recently watched several of the Universal Frankenstein movies in a row, and I was surprised by how agile Karloff's Monster is, how cunning and animallike compared to the lumbering robotic brute of later movies. This Monster is very much a wild animal, ferocious and tentative at the same time, yearning for freedom and acceptance in ways it can't understand and can't articulate.

Even though `Frankenstein' is mainly Karloff's show, there are plenty of other wonderful things in the movie. Director James Whale infuses the film with atmosphere and action, much more than Tod Browning's stagebound and static `Dracula.' Plus, there are wonderful stylized performances from Colin Clive as Henry Frankenstein and Dwight Frye as Fritz. The film itself is full of graveyards, laboratories, dungeons, shot through with lightning and Kenneth Strickfaden's art-deco electrical apparatus. When the Monster does appear in the sunlight, it brings out his innocent side, particularly the tragic episode with little Maria down by the lake.

To sum up: `Dracula' was the first of the classic sound Universal horror films, but `Frankenstein' really opened up the genre to what a great horror film can do. It gave birth to a legend in Karloff's portrayal of the Frankenstein Monster, and gave us all an icon.