In a sentenceThe rooms are modern, but we would still sleep in the car
A Modernist mansion stands above a buried fortress, bringing domestic rooms and a fortified enclosure into the same setting. Hjalmar Poelzig (Boris Karloff) and Dr. Vitus Werdegast (Bela Lugosi) dominate the story, with Peter Alison (David Manners) and Joan Alison (Julie Bishop) caught up in its dangers. Art Deco interiors surround the four characters. The building offers little sense of escape, and its occupants prove no more reassuring than the fortress beneath their feet. Within these rooms, the threat comes from human cruelty and derangement.
Boris Karloff and Bela Lugosi make Edgar G. Ulmer’s horror worth an evening, with considerable help from a deeply unwelcoming mansion. The story is muddled, but the performances and interiors keep it disturbing.
The Black Cat is a compelling horror film with an untidy story and an unusually convincing place to be frightened in. Edgar G. Ulmer gives Boris Karloff and Bela Lugosi a Modernist mansion whose appearance is almost as unsettling as their performances. At 65 minutes, it gets a great deal of discomfort out of a small amount of time. We recommend it, provided a few doubtful connections in the plot will not spoil the evening.
Boris Karloff plays Hjalmar Poelzig, while Bela Lugosi is Dr. Vitus Werdegast, and their shared presence gives the film its strongest reason to exist. Both make derangement feel dangerous without making it seem beyond human understanding. We believe in the damage these men might do, which matters when the plot becomes difficult to follow. There is pleasure in watching performers commit so fully to people whose company we would take considerable trouble to avoid.
The production design deserves a substantial share of the credit. The Art Deco interiors and the fortress buried beneath the mansion make the whole building feel difficult to get out of, even before we consider the company. We felt hemmed in by those stark rooms and the knowledge of what lay underneath. The modern architecture is especially effective because it allows so little of the comforting distance that a picturesque ruin might give us.
John J. Mescall’s cinematography makes those interiors worth studying rather than treating them as expensive-looking scenery. Our attention keeps returning to the building, and examining its stark rooms sustains our interest whenever the story wavers. Heinz Eric Roemheld’s music is less distinctive to our ears, though it helps sustain the oppressive mood. We remember the rooms more clearly than the music, particularly the disturbing prospect of a fortress beneath a domestic building.
The weakness is the writing. Peter Ruric and Tom Kilpatrick’s screenplay does not always make its connections clear, and the actors occasionally have to supply conviction that the story has failed to earn. Ray Curtiss’s editing cannot quite persuade us that everything belongs together, although the short running time limits how long any confusion can linger. A horror film can leave plenty unexplained, but here some of the uncertainty gets in the way of understanding why people do things.
The choice of setting makes a useful departure from the more reassuring furniture of Gothic horror. There is little comfort in recognising the familiar shape of a modern house when the people occupying it seem so dangerously disturbed. The two leading performances keep that threat personal, giving us something more troubling than an architectural curiosity. The director is particularly good at sustaining this discomfort, even through the less persuasive stretches of the story.
The reservations matter, but they do not cancel the pleasure of seeing performers and surroundings so well matched. There is enough conviction in the faces and enough unease in the building to carry the film through its muddle. Anyone looking for a neatly worked thriller should approach with caution. For an evening of sinister company in disagreeable rooms, we would gladly return.
Most critics regard The Black Cat as an effective, unsettling horror film, with praise clustering around its sets, disturbing imagery and the pairing of Karloff and Lugosi. The Art Deco and Modernist interiors receive particular attention: the mansion’s stark spaces help make the film feel claustrophobic and strange. The more enthusiastic reviews also find substance beyond the horror conventions, praising Ulmer’s visuals for giving the material a lasting hold.
The spread is wide, however, with strong enthusiasm at one end and an outright rejection at the other. Reservations centre on the storytelling: Variety finds the plot confused and the film derivative, though it still credits Karloff and Lugosi with being convincingly sinister. That shared appreciation of the performers is notable; the sharpest disagreement concerns whether the film offers enough beyond their presence and its unsettling images.
The critic calls it a landmark horror film and praises its eerie tension. They single out the bizarre Art Deco sets and potent finale.
Read the full review →Vasquez calls the film a masterpiece of popular art, rich in meaning beyond its horror conventions. He particularly praises Ulmer’s striking visuals and the performances of Karloff and Lugosi.
Read the full review →French regards the film as a bizarre masterpiece. He singles out the compelling Karloff–Lugosi pairing and its disturbing, memorable imagery.
Read the full review →The page identifies this as a film review, but its review text is unavailable. Its description singles out the film’s independence from Poe’s story, without revealing a clear verdict.
Read the full review →The review finds the story confused and the film a poor imitation of earlier works. It praises Karloff and Lugosi as sufficiently sinister and convincingly demented.
Read the full review →Robson finds the film an unsettling, highly effective horror that remains strikingly modern despite some flaws. He especially praises its Modernist mansion, whose stark design and buried fortress create a brilliantly original, claustrophobic hellhole.
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The Old Dark House · not on Fi1m yetMore sinister company under one roof, with a sharper sense of comedy.
Eyes Without a Face · not on Fi1m yetA controlled, unsettling horror film about cruelty carried out with apparent care.
The Haunting · not on Fi1m yetAnother forbidding building, with fear built from rooms, sounds and uncertain impressions.
The Cremator · not on Fi1m yetMeticulous manners and persuasive self-delusion make another disturbing portrait of human cruelty.
House · not on Fi1m yetDomestic space becomes openly impossible, with much less concern for good behaviour.
