Rating: C+
Dir: William J. Cowen
Star: Walter Huston, Lupe Vélez, Conrad Nagel, Virginia Bruce
This might be the kind of film which explains why Hollywood introduced the Hays Code of censorship, a couple of years later. And, yeah: I can kinda see their point. This would seem mean-spirited and callous, by the standards of contemporary cinema. Current analysis isn’t helped by the casual racism, with the native population being depicted as dumber than the pet chimp belonging to the main character. This is Flint (Huston), known by the equally cruel nickname of “Deadlegs”. He was confined to a wheelchair after a brawl, 18 years earlier, with Gregg, a man who then ran off with Flint’s wife. The invalid has been plotting vengeance since, in a scheme remarkable for its spectacularly convoluted nature.
Flint has established a kingdom in the jungle, ruling over the natives with a combination of third-rate lounge magic, and booze handouts. Or, if booze is unavailable, paraffin. He’s been keeping tabs on Gregg’s daughter, the pure and wholesome Ann (Bruce), who has now reached the age where she can be kidnapped, pimped out, turned into a raging alcoholic, and brought to lie at Flint’s feet. He also brought in a discredited physician, Dr. Kingsland (Nagel), to help manage Flint’s pain, who inevitably falls in love with Ann, lush or not. Meanwhile, Flint seeks to lure Gregg himself to his doom, by stealing his ivory He’ll then show Gregg what his daughter has become, kill him, and give her to the natives as a sacrifice. What could go wrong?
It is a remake – or, at least, based on the same source material – as Tod Browning’s West of Zanzibar, from four years earlier. Indeed, some of the footage here was originally shot for that production, which starred Lon Chaney as the vengeful magician. I’ve not seen that, but even Chaney would be hard-pushed to surpass Huston in terms of pure and undiluted, spiteful villainy. Then again, nobody here gets out with much moral credit. Worth noting Flint’s lust for revenge is not sparked particularly by his injury, or Gregg’s adultery. “As you left me lying there helpless, you sneered. Gregg, with that sneer, you fashioned a weapon that will tear the heart out of you.” Oh, but just wait, Deadlegs. Just wait…
For Gregg has some very interesting news, which is certainly among the most impressive reverse Uno cards of pre-Code cinema. But it remains still a product of its time, and when Huston isn’t on screen, there’s a lot of dead air. The romance between Ann and the doc is staggeringly uninteresting. I’d have been far more interested in learning how she goes from, literally, praying, to become the dead-eyed alkie we see in Flint’s hut. But I guess pre-Code Hollywood had its boundaries, limiting her to mentioning time spent in a Zanzibar “house.” Both this and its predecessor are now public-domain. I’d like to see some enterprising indie remake them, freed from the restraints under which the previous productions were clearly operating.