The Great Frankenstein Title Fight of 1931

It was March 25, in 1931, that Karl Krug of The Pittsburgh Press broke the news: “Universal is to make a talkie of Frankenstein, said to be more horrible than Dracula.”

Through Spring, Summer and into the Fall, newspaper gossips would track progress on the film right up to its release. When Frankenstein opened in November, the anticipation was palpable and, when the film delivered on its promised shocks, the box office went ballistic.

Universal had secured the rights to and based their film on a 1927 British stage adaptation by Peggy Webling, reworked by John L. Balderston. Of course, the original source, Mary Shelley’s novel, was a public domain title and, theoretically, anyone could make a Frankenstein movie. Given the magnitude of Frankenstein’s success, it was perhaps only a matter of time until someone did. The challenge came to light in the December 30, 1931 issue of the New York-based trade paper, Film Daily.

Headlined “U Sues to Stop Indi Using ‘Frank’ Title”, a short article reported on Universal bringing action in the New York Supreme Court against one Mike Mindlin “to prevent him from selling a feature under the title of ‘Frankenstein’”. Universal stated damages would amount to $400,000 “owing to the fact that it is distributing its own hit by the same title”. The defendant claimed that the title in question “is common property owing to its general usage over a long period of years”.

Universal took the case very seriously, hiring Nathan Burkan as their counsel. In 1924, Burkan had co-founded ASCAP, successfully arguing for copyright extension, representing such luminaries as Irving Berlin and John Philip Sousa, and obtaining royalties for composers and lyricists when their works played on the radio. Burkan also represented famous entertainment personalities such as Charlie Chaplin, Al Jolson and, famously, a young Mae West after police closed down her sensationalistic revue called Sex.

The surprise here is that someone had a Frankenstein film readymade and ready to go. A clue to this bothersome, competing Frankenstein lies in the last line of the Film Daily article: “The Mindlin picture, produced by Oceanic Film Co., at present is without dialogue but talk is to be added later.” In other words, after 15 years, Ocean Films’ Life Without Soul had resurfaced.

The case was handled quickly. On January 2, 1932, Film Daily reported that Supreme Court Justice Churchill had granted Universal an injunction “to restrain Mindhyam Theatrical Co. and Michael Mindlin from ‘unfair competition’ in exploiting ‘Life Without Soul’ as the ‘original version of ‘Frankenstein’.” Judge Churchill stated, “It is apparent that the only purpose of the use of the word ‘Frankenstein’ in the advertising, exploitation and publicity of the defendant’s motion picture, ‘Life Without Soul’ or ‘Body Without Soul’ would be to confuse and mislead the public.”

The injunction was temporary and Film Daily reported Universal as winning “the first round” but, apparently, the case was dropped and Defendant Mindlin quickly moved on to other projects. By the end of the year, the Russian-born producer’s Vision Pictures would unleash This Nude World, also known as Back to Nature, a purported documentary — "guaranteed educational!" — on the morality of nudism. It cobbled together German and American nudist camp footage of sunbathers in the altogether, the inevitable nude volleyball game, and scenes from Paris’ Lido Theater.

Another infamous Mindlin production was Hitler’s Reign of Terror (1934), an early exposé of the Nazis as World Threat. Reviewing the film in The New York Times, critic Mordaunt Hall declared it “scarcely lives up to expectations”, its sensationalized revelations having “been seen here before from different angles” and deploring its lack of subtlety and its many staged scenes; “Even Hitler comes to the screen at one point personated by some player”. The New York State Censor Board refused it a license, but somehow Mindlin still managed to show it to capacity crowds over a two-week run at Manhattan’s Mayfair — the same theater that premiered Frankenstein in 1931.

One thing learned from the Frankenstein Title Fight is that a copy of Life Without Soul was still around in 1931. Mindlin, in exploitation mode, had planned to give it a soundtrack, perhaps simple and inexpensive narration, maybe some sound effects, a little music, and then he could have ballyhooed a 15-year old silent as The Original Frankenstein!

When an exploitation expert was unable to squeeze a few dollars out of it, Life Without Soul was doomed. Outdated, unexploitable, its worst sin being a silent film in a bold new era of sound, Life Without Soul would be neglected, soon forgotten and, ultimately, lost.

Stupendous in Its Execution! Life Without Soul's Cast and Crew

The cast of Life Without Soul appears in Motography, a silent-era movie magazine. William A. Cohill played the Frawley/Frankenstein character, Lucy Cotton was Elizabeth and Percy Standing was “The Creation”.

Cohill’s film career was brief and unremarkable. He appeared in some 30 films, mostly shorts, between 1914 and 1919. He passed away in 1931, age 48.

Lucy Cotton was a popular performer on Broadway before transitioning to film in 1910. She would make only a dozen pictures over the next ten years, her acting career vastly overshadowed by her flashy socialite life. She married a press magnate in 1924, inheriting a sizeable fortune when hubby passed away two years later. Four more high-profile marriages followed, the last one in 1941 to a Russian Prince. From then on, even after their separation, Cotton called herself Princess Eristavi-Tchitcherine and expected to be addressed as “Princess” or “Your Royal Highness”. She lived alone and lavishly in a palatial Miami home she named after herself, Villa Lucia. Tragically, in late 1948, she fell ill and died from a drug overdose. Scandal sheets called her the “Showgirl-to-Princess Sleeping Pill Victim”, publishing photos of Cotton in sumptuous gowns and furs, and her estranged husband in traditional Russian garb and sword.

A highly respected actor, British-born Percy Standing, billed here as Percy Darrell Standing, came from a very prominent theatrical family that included his father, three brothers, and assorted relatives down to this day. Most of his films, over 40 in all, were made in America. Parts included a turn as Professor Moriarty to Ellie Norwood’s Sherlock Holmes in The Final Problem (1923), and an appearance in Harmony Heaven (1930), the first British “all-talkie” color film. Standing passed away in California, in 1950, age 67.

The Ocean Film Corporation was organized by John I. Dudley and Jesse J. Goldburg, and capitalized by investors to the tune of $200,000. Life Without Soul was the company’s initial offering and very much an in-house affair: Dudley produced, Vice President Goldburg wrote the script and Production Manager George DeCarlton played Frawley/Frankenstein’s father. Offices were secured in New York’s Candler Building, at 220 West 42nd Street. An early, 1914 skyscraper built with Coca-Cola money, the Candler, still a dramatic presence in Times Square, earned a listing on the National Register of Historic Places. Today, the ground floor hosts the world’s largest MacDonalds. According to Motography, it is here, on Sunday, November 28, 1915, that Life Without Soul got its first showing, “given for state rights buyers, exchange men, the reviewers of the motion picture journals and the trade in general.”

Ocean’s announced policy was “to produce unusual features of themes never heretofore touched, largely adaptations from literary masterpieces”. Eight features were planned, each with its own separate cast and crew, “in order to allow each as much time as is necessary to complete a perfect photoplay, without the haste that has characterized some of the features heretofore made.”

For all its promise, Ocean Film made only two more features, The Fortunate Youth and Driftwood, both in 1916. That same year, Life Without Soul was re-released through the Raver Film Corporation with added color tints and tacked-on documentary footage on how fish reproduce.

In time, Life Without Soul was lost to us, but not before resurfacing one last time, 15 years on, when the most famous of all Frankenstein films was first released. That story is coming up next!

Next up: It’s Percy Standing vs Boris Karloff as Silent Frankenstein Week continues!

With thanks to Joe Thompson.

Life Without Soul (1915)

Revealed: “The Creation” in Life Without Soul. Directed by Joseph W. Smiley for the Ocean Film Corporation in 1915, it was the second Frankenstein film and, at 70 minutes, the first feature-length Frankenstein. This rare photograph of actor Percy Standing on a Florida Beach was used, as a drawing, as the central figure on the only known poster/herald advertising the film.

The film is lost to the ages, but a contemporary review by Thomas C. Kennedy published on December 4 in the film magazine Motography reveals a story that hews fairly close to Mary Shelley’s novel. Certainly, Life Without Soul made a bold attempt at capturing the world-spanning sweep of the tale, filming in St. Augustine and Jacksonville, Florida, and Dahlonega, Georgia, with additional scenes shot on a steamer sailing from Savannah to New York.

Scripter Jesse J. Goldburg, VP and general manager of Ocean Film, provided a framing device wherein a physician named Victor Frawley (William A. Cohill) discovers a “life-giving fluid”. Knocking off work, he dozes off while reading a copy of Mary Shelley’s novel.

The action picks up in Europe, with Frawley, his fiancée and friends transformed into corresponding characters from the book. As Frankenstein, Frawley uses his elixir to bring a clay statue to life. Shunned by all, the mountainous Monster demands a mate. When Frankenstein reneges on his promise to comply, The Creation embarks on a murderous rampage, killing Frankenstein’s young sister, his friend Henry Clerval and, on their wedding night, Frankenstein’s bride, Elizabeth. More mayhem ensues aboard a sea-going ship, with Standing’s brute throwing the entire crew overboard. In a climactic confrontation, Georgia cliffs standing in for the Grand Canyon, Frawley/Frankenstein traps The Creation in a cave and blows it up with dynamite, leaving the indestructible Monster trapped underground forever. Frankenstein dies from exhaustion, whereupon Frawley wakes up and promptly destroys his invention.

The Motography review called the film “good screen material” providing “many unusual developments and melodramatic situations. The action, which carries the spectator from the dissecting room through mountainous country, desert land and on the high seas, does so with unflagging interest.” The film’s Monster, as should be expected, is the key element: “The superman, a creature of superb physique who, without conscience, makes no attempt to restrain the cravings of his healthy body, is an exceptionally suspenseful figure for the photoplay.” A minor quibble, “In places the action is confusing, but it is not a fault to the scenario or the director, and the addition of a few properly placed subtitles probably would overcome this.”

Acting throughout is pronounced as “splendid… convincing”, with Percy Darrell Standing’s interpretation singled out as “excellent… He acts with consistency and his performance is one that is certain to meet with general approval.”

After its initial run, a color-tinted version of Life Without Soul toured in 1916, and the film resurfaced again — problematically, as we shall see later this week — in 1931.

Next up on SILENT FRANKENSTEIN WEEK: The Ocean Film Corporation story, promotional materials, and we’ll meet the cast and crew of Life Without Soul.

With many thanks to Joe Thompson for his stellar research.

Silent Frankenstein Week!

From the pages of the local Daily Herald, May 14, 1910, the New Lyric Theatre of Palestine, Texas, presents the High-Class Comedy, Songs and Dances of Ball & Dorris, the music of the seven-piece Triece’s Orchestra, and a program of High Art Motion Photographs, led by Edison’s feature film, Frankenstein.

Starting Sunday, and running all week, we will be celebrating the Silent Movie Frankensteins: Edison’s Frankenstein (1910), Life Without Soul (1915), and Il Mostro di Frankenstein (1920).

Turn off the sound and join us for High-Quality Motographic Archeology, High-Class Discoveries, High-Falutin’ Revelations, and Rare, High-Eye-Popping Photographs!

It starts right here, tomorrow!

Related Posts:

Edison’s Frankenstein:The First Frankenstein of the MoviesA Physicalogical Phantasy!A Weird, Fantastic Conception!After FrankensteinAll Posts about Edison’s Frankenstein

Life Without Soul:The Silent Frankensteins

Il Mostro di Frankenstein:A poster from 1922Il Mostro: A 1926 Playbill

Silent Frankensteins

Here’s a trivia question I’ve stumped film buff friends with: Who was the fourth actor to play the Frankenstein Monster in the movies?

The answer is: Boris Karloff. The most famous of all Frankenstein Monsters was preceded by 3 silent era actors.

The first was Charles Ogle, the scarecrow-like Monster in the so-called “Edison” Frankenstein of 1910. The film was lost and forgotten for over 50 years, only to miraculously surface in a private collection. Today, you can watch or download the sixteen-minute silent on Archive.org.

The second Frankenstein Monster of the movies was played by English-born Percy Darrell Standing in the 1915 feature-length Life Without Soul. The film is lost but a publicity sheet clearly shows the Monster as a dimwitted brute in a torn shirt, without disfiguring makeup. The whole drama, as it often turned out in films of the era, is revealed in the end to have been a dream.

The third interpretation is infinitely more mysterious. Its existence was largely unknown through most of the 20th century and, still today, very little is known about it.

The 1920 Il Mostro di Frankenstein was produced in Italy, with German investment, by Luciano Albertini, who also portrayed Dr. Frankenstein. It co-stars his frequent film collaborators: Wife Linda Albertini and the imposing Umberto Guarracino as The Monster. Of the plot, all we know is that the Doctor confronts his creation in a dark cave. The whole thing clocked in at some 39 minutes of screen time. The film was reputedly censored by Italian authorities, compelling Albertini and company to pursue their film careers in Germany.

The following year, 1921, Guarracino played “the product of the secret workshop” in Die Insel der Verschollenen (Island of the Lost), an unauthorized adaptation of H.G.Wells’ The Island of Dr. Moreau. Trivia question #2: Can you name the only other actor to ever play both the Frankenstein Monster and a creation of Dr. Moreau?

Guarracino is perhaps best remembered as Pluto, the fuzzy-bearded King of Hell to “strong man” genre superstar Bartolomeo Pagano’s Maciste in the classic Maciste all'inferno of 1926, the film that is said to have inspired a young Federico Fellini to become a filmmaker. By the way, Maciste in Hell is a special effect knockout with very elaborate sets and all manner of beast men, alluring she-devils, and a giant fire-breathing dragon identified as “Hell’s Aeroplane”!

Of Frankenstein’s Mostro, nothing survives save an illustration on a Belgian promotion flyer. It shows the monster surrounded by smoke or flames, menacingly brandishing a stick. In the background, an urgent figure appears on a staircase. A “mysterious vision”, the caption reads, “from the novel by Mrs. Shelley”.

I found the small picture on the net years ago, but the source seems to have disappeared. If anyone has access to a better, larger copy, please share!

Out of curiosity, I scanned the image at high resolution, enlarged and photoshopped it a bit to see if any detail could be brought out. I humbly submit the result of this experiment. The Monster appears as a bald-headed, muscular man. The face remains a cipher. A tantalizing image that’ll have to do, at least until a better one is found.