The second – and most successful – of Ed Wood’s Bela Lugosi films, Bride of the Monster is the closest the infamous director came to making a ‘conventional’ B-movie and, despite the flaws you come to expect in his works, is well worth having a look at.
Like all of Wood’s movies the production on Bride of the Monster is dire. There is a mismatch between his interior and exterior shots, continuity between night and day is completely overlooked and his sets wobble worryingly during any action scenes. Having said that, it isn’t half as bad as his later Plan 9 From Outer Space and it rarely becomes distracting or too disruptive to the plot. Wood actually comes close to turning out something quite atmospheric if one can look beyond the barely disguised photograph enlarger machine as the ‘Atomic ray’ or the tellingly listless giant squid that lurks in the swamp, and there is a genuine hint of menace surrounding Lugosi’s secluded lair.
Likewise, though the script is as shoddy and clichéd as they come it is far more accessible and less convoluted than some of his offerings, so it is easy to overlook the hackneyed journalists and policemen. Wood also manages to marshal his players effectively, especially in light of the fact that one of the leads (Tony McCoy) wasn’t even an actor but the son of his financial backer. In so far as comparisons with his other works go, Bride of the Monster is a polished piece with none of the unnecessary plot twists or padded characters he allowed to creep into his other offerings. As I said above, the flaws we see here are those that you could pick out in many other B-movies of the era, movies which (unlike Bride) fail to overcome their physical defects with worthy plots or memorable acting performances.
It is Bela Lugosi who really shines, and if ever an example was needed of an actor rising above his material then this is it. The psychotic Dr. Eric Vornoff was Lugosi’s last speaking part, poignantly playing the mad scientist stereotype that became the staple of his later films. He dominates the screen with this role and fills it with his old commanding personality and sincerity. The lovely scene where he unburdens himself (“hooome? I haff no hooome”) is as touching as Tim Burton rendered in Ed Wood to those familiar with Lugosi’s career, and is a fitting swansong to the cinematic giant. For this reason alone it is difficult for me to dislike Bride of the Monster, for despite his limited resources Wood treats Lugosi and the material with the heartfelt respect they deserves and manages to churn out a respectable little movie which proves (though none is needed) that he’s far from the worst director in film history.