Director James Whale draws us in and then makes us root against THE INVISIBLE MAN (1933)
#31DaysOfHorror: October 8
This October, I’ll be reviewing 31 horror movies in 31 days! You can see the ongoing list of what I’ve watched and reviewed here.
The Plot
One wintery night, out of the snow walks a stranger wrapped in surgical bandages. He demands a room from the local pub owners, and when everything is set up, he gets to work mixing chemicals and running experiments.
This man — scientist Jack Griffin — has managed to turn himself invisible, and he needs to find a way back. And quickly. Because the chemical he used in his injection is driving him quite mad…
My Review
I consider myself a fan of classic Universal horror. I love Boris Karloff’s Frankenstein and Mummy, and Bela Lugosi’s Dracula, and I’ve seen and enjoyed The Wolf Man, and I especially love Creature from the Black Lagoon and I love all the various times Abbot and Costello met the monsters, but recently I realized that I have never seen the original 1933 version of The Invisible Man.
That has now been corrected. Running a brisk 72 minutes, The Invisible Man is a fun little movie about the dangers of man’s scientific ambition. In this way, it feels ahead of its time; scientific horror really had its heydey in the 1940s and 50s, as society grappled with the horrific destruction we found ourselves able to wreak upon our fellow man with the use of the atomic bomb at the end of World War II. Indeed: the poster at the top of the page, presumably for a re-release of the film, claims that Jack Griffin’s ability to make himself invisible represents A discovery more horrifying than the atom bomb! That’s a bit of an overstatement, to say the least, but it’s still fun to watch Griffin’s madness escalate from throwing people’s hats in the river and stealing bicycles to causing hundreds of deaths in train crashes and plotting the assassinations of kings.
Openly gay director James Whale excelled at making films about outcasts from society, considered horrifying by the local mob but in actuality rather sympathetic. Unlike Frankenstein and Bride of Frankenstein, where I root for the “monster” pretty much the entire time, in The Invisible Man, Griffin is consumed by his ambition to take over the world and becomes truly monstrous. It’s fun to watch, though, how Whale uses the typical mob-mentality conventions of some of his other films and turns the story from comedic to more horrific. The mob following a police officer up to the room to see the Invisible Man is funny. The policemen encroaching on the barn where the Invisible Man sleeps, is suspenseful.
Still, though, there are a number of fun little queer moments in The Invisible Man. When Griffin invites himself over the house of fellow scientist Kemp, he insists that he borrow Kemp’s pajamas, because, after all, they’re “bosom friends,” a phrase typically applied to close women. Both men are ostensibly in love with the same woman, too; this is another common device whereby men can work out their attraction to one another. (See: Dracula, which has so many bodily fluids swapped between men in the interest of helping women that it’s easy to lose count).
And, of course, there’s the thrill of watching the Invisible Man strip down to just a shirt, talking about how he’s going to give the villagers a shock. He takes off his pants with his rear end poking toward the camera. Then, when the policeman opens the door, he jumps and leaps around, laughing. Even though Griffin is invisible, Whale still strategically places a table in front of where his crotch would be, just like you would if his junk was actually flopping around in the visible spectrum. (See: the strategically placed flower in front of the male nude in Will’s apartment on Will & Grace, or the whole scene in The Simpsons Movie where Bart skateboards in the buff). Whale is inviting us to imagine it, even if he isn’t showing it.
Even more than the story, the effects are the real draw here. They’re impressive for a film made in 1933, and I imagine they were a delight to witness in the theater for the first time. His initial rampage through the village seems like an excuse for a few special-effects shots, including a self-peddling bicycle that rides off down the lane by itself. In addition, there are numerous money-shots of Griffin unwrapping his face to reveal nothing underneath; at times, he seems like he only wraps himself back up so he can take the bandages off again.
A number of contemporary posters seem to advertise the Invisible Man being able to shoot lasers out of his eyes, which is bizarre. I understand that you can’t exactly capture something “invisible” in a still image well enough to sell it, but the character’s design — with the bandaged face and the dark glasses — is intriguing enough without having to make up superpowers for the monster. It feels a bit like showing Dracula breathing fire.
Claude Rains’ performance is impressive as well. The film was the Brit’s first introduction to Hollywood audiences, but he spends the vast majority of it covered by bandages, using only his voice and body language to act rather than his face. At the very end, when (spoilers) he dies, he fades into view for the first time. It’s an interesting way to introduce a star to American audiences, as so much of our star system depends upon our ability to consume faces.
There’s something queer here too. Claude Rains was undoubtedly a beautiful man in 1933, but we aren’t allowed to look at him, just like we don’t really see The Invisible Man in the buff. Yes, the story calls for it, but the shot held on the dead Rains’ face at the end of the film feels like a release, like Whale is letting us finally behold the face of the movie star in repose, as an apology for keeping him from us the whole film.
Overall, The Invisible Man is a fun way to spend an hour and change. It’s not exactly scary, but the effects are impressive, it has a number of well-timed comedic setpieces, and the story is gripping. I wouldn’t call it my favorite Universal horror — that honor belongs to the Creature — but it’s solid, and it’s easy to see why the character has become such an icon.
But where can I watch it? The Invisible Man is currently showing on TCM.
