BELA LUGOSI'S DEAD (65 YEARS)

Back on August 16th was the 65th anniversary of the passing in 1956 of Bela Lugosi at age 73. In 1979, art/punk band Bauhaus released their single, "Bela Lugosi's Dead", which has since become known as the first goth rock record. Reggae and Dub-influenced rhythms and the funereal voice of front man Peter Murphy made this into a mysterious masterpiece.

Following is the story of the creation of this touchstone track.

Bela Lugosi, R.I.P.

The origins of Goth: The source of Bauhaus masterpiece 'Bela Lugosi's Dead'

By Mick McStarky | August 16, 2021 | https://faroutmagazine.co.uk/

Today, August 16th, marks the 65th anniversary of the death of one of the most recognisable actors to have ever graced the screen. On this day, way back in 1956, Bela Lugosi passed away aged 73. One of the most iconic actors to have been a part of Hollywood’s ‘Golden Age’, Lugosi’s life could be made into a film of itself. His best-known role is undoubtedly his sinister portrayal of the dastardly yet complex Count Dracula in the 1931 film, Dracula. The monochrome scene of him coming down the stairs to greet Jonathan Harker is one of the most recognisable ever put to film. The devilish smirk on his face as he says, “I bid you welcome”, has been etched into the collective mind forevermore. 

His overtly gothic take on Count Dracula stands out as the finest adaptation as it is the closest to the source material. Owing to his Hungarian origin, Lugosi’s accent wickedly delivers the Count’s lines, and it feels natural rather than forced. Furthermore, his portrayal of the vampiric master exists at the centre of the Venn diagram that is comprised of the countless adaptations of Bram Stoker’s 1987 novel, the gothic staple, Dracula. His take is iconic as it is effortless, not overly sexualised like Gary Oldman’s in 1992’s Bram Stoker’s Dracula or the over-complicated playfulness inherent to the recent BBC adaptation. 

Lugosi is up there with Boris Karloff and Christopher Lee. In fact, the latter would succeed Lugosi as Dracula in the Hammer Horror films, starting in 1958. Since its release, Lugosi’s portrayal has inspired countless references across the spectrum of popular culture. His image has even endured through other people’s works of art. Even the pop art mastermind, Andy Warhol, was touched by Lugosi. The American artist’s 1963 silkscreen print, ‘The Kiss’, depicts the scene from Dracula where the Count is about to bite into the neck of the film’s leading lady, Helen Chandler, portraying the doomed Mina Harker. 

In fact, even ‘British Invasion’ heroes The Kinks would not escape the spectre of Lugosi. His star on the illustrious Hollywood Walk of Fame is mentioned in their soft-rock piece ‘Celluloid Heroes’, taken from their 1972 album, the aptly named, Everybody’s in Show-Biz.

However, the most definitive example of the Lugosi influence arrived on August 6th 1979. Legendary British post-punk’s Bauhaus’s debut single, ‘Bela Lugosi’s Dead’, would change the face of music forever. Widely hailed as the first goth-rock record, it has been a staple of our death discos since its release.

Over nine minutes long, the goth classic is actually steeped in irony. Although they got the name from the death of the titular on-screen hero, the song’s composition was actually inspired by possibly the most un-gothic genre of music out there; reggae. Seeing the words reggae and gothic-rock in the same sentence automatically discombobulates the brain. It is a marriage that shouldn’t work on paper, but it does. 

In 2018, Bauhaus bassist David J revealed: “We were very influenced by reggae, especially dub. I mean, basically, Bela was our interpretation of dub.” This revelation is made less shocking when we note that reggae and goth are at core concerned with subverting the status quo and paving out a path uniquely their own. 

The gloomy, atmospheric piece is unmatched in its sonic embodiment of the Count. Frontman Pete Murphy’s lyrics are unforgettable. The first verse openly references the star’s death and the darkness inherent to his character: “Bela Lugosi’s dead/ The bats have left the bell tower/ The victims have been bled/ Red velvet lines the black box”. In fact, the discussion of red velvet can be taken as Murphy acknowledging the sexual undercurrent of Dracula.

The song is also hailed as critical in the development of goth-rock for the reason that it influenced two of the biggest goth acts we know today. Whilst Siouxsie and the Banshees and the Cure were very much active and putting records out in 1979; it was not until the advent of Bauhaus and the release of ‘Bela Lugosi’s Dead’ that the shift from post-punk into full-blown goth was enacted. 

In 2011, Alex Petridis hailed this sentiment in the Guardian: “‘Bela Lugosi’s Dead’ would have been just another piece of post-punk experimentation had it not been for the lyrics, which depicted the funeral of the Dracula star, with bats swooping and virgin brides marching past his coffin. The effect was so irresistibly theatrical that dozens of bands formed in its wake. So many, in fact, that goth quickly became a very codified musical genre.”

Just like its titular actor, the song has endured and has since been covered by so many of our favourite artists, within and outside of the realm of goth. These include Nine Inch Nails, Chris Cornell, Massive Attack, Chvrches and The Damned, to name but a few. Just like Bauhaus, the goth-rock forebear will be continued to be spun by our gothic peers for as long as they exist. Given the yearly advent of the black-clad hordes that descend upon the British seaside town of Whitby, where Dracula was written, this trend shows no sign of abating.

So on the anniversary of Bela Lugosi’s death, why not revisit this gothic masterpiece?

The striking cover for the single was a re-worked version of a still for the 1926 silent film by D.W. Griffith, THE SORROWS OF SATAN.

THE 200 YEAR-OLD MONSTER

"How I, then a young girl, came to think of, and to dilate upon, so very hideous an idea?" — Mary Shelley

On New Year's Day, 1818, the first edition of Mary Shelley's Frankenstein; or, The Modern Prometheus was released to an unsuspecting Georgian England. Begun two years earlier, when she spent spent a stormy summer at the Villa Diodati on the shores of Lake Geneva with her renegade lover, Percy Bysshe Shelley, her stepsister Claire Claremont, the infamous poet, Lord Byron and his personal physician, John Polidori, it was published anonymously in three volumes by Lackington, Hughes, Harding, Mavor & Jones, London. It was dedicated to her father, William Godwin, and this indicated to those who suspected that it was, indeed, Shelley who was the author. When this fact became known (that a story of this nature was written by a woman!), book sales, that had not been successful from the start, declined even more. Much like Edgar Allen Poe's works, it was not until the novel was published in French that it caught on, not only in France, but the rest of the world. A second, revised edition was published in 1831, and it was thereafter forever embedded in the consciousness of English literature.

Today marks the 200th anniversary of Frankenstein's publication. It's impact on literature and popular culture cannot be overestimated. The book is still taught in schools and there are still films that are produced related to the story.

Here at MONSTER MAGAZINE WORLD, this marks the beginning of a year-long celebration of Shelley's novel and her amazing creation, the world's most famous monster!

NOTE: The images shown in today's post are from the University of Notre Dame, where a first edition of Frankenstein is housed in their European literature collection.

ENCOUNTER WITH AN "ORANGE DRACULA"

LAST SATURDAY, MY WIFE AND I CELEBRATED our wedding anniversary. I won't tell you exactly how many years it has been since we tied the knot, but I will tell you that it's a lot, especially considering that the last time I heard, the statistic is holding steady at about 50% of marriages that are still failing. Given that, I feel pretty darn good about our chances this far down the road.

If you were to ask me, I couldn't really give you any valuable advice on the longevity of relationships . . . except for perhaps this: When you feel like the chips are down and you are at the end of your proverbial rope with seemingly nowhere to turn and nothing left to do, find a way to get through the crisis and make it work. Believe me, you'll actually feel good about yourself when you have given it your best shot, and many times things only improve afterwards. So far, I haven't heard anybody complain that "make up" sex was ever lousy, know what I mean?

I have a younger family member that has tried marriage -- and given up on it -- three times already, and to hear the insipid, superficial, selfish reasons disguised as "game breakers", honestly I don't know whether to laugh or to cry.

That brings me to one more tidbit of advice, now that I think about it: Don't make up your mind (or what's left of it at the time) until you've heard someone else's viewpoint, preferably from either a non-emotionally attached friend or family member, or better yet, a professional counselor.

So, it turned out to be a sunny -- and just a little bit chilly -- Saturday here. We headed out over the 520 toll bridge (for decades it was free) to Seattle and the renown Pike Place Market, where the main attraction is the fish vendor tossing 10 lb. whole King Salmon to the poor, unsuspecting tourists hoping for a photo op and having no idea how unwieldy ... and slimy a dead fish can be. You can also have fun here if you are a people watcher, as, invariably by noontime, the place is elbow-to-elbow with 'em. With masses of tourists and locals alike, we usually reserve this delightful encounter with humanity for excursions with out-of-town guests and first-time visitors.

You might be wondering by now if there are going to be any monsters mentioned in today's slice 'o life. Funny you should ask, for in the nether chambers of the market known as "Down Under" we came across a shop that caught my usual discerning eye and impeccable taste for the finer things in life. Called "Orange Dracula", it's billed as "the dime store for those with unusual tastes". The melange of kitsch includes a Francis Ford Coppola Dracula pinball machine, a fortune teller vending machine, and a working photo booth. Predominant in the store are monster-related items like models, pins, buttons, patches and other paraphernalia. In the window there is  an original 6-foot Frankenstein poster from the Captain Company days. The proprietor is an amiable and talkative fellow and is more than willing to share his interests in monsters with the clientele. Orange Dracula has a website HERE. If you find yourself at the world-famous Pike Place Market, I recommend you find time to stop in at Orange Dracula.

We escaped the multitudes of the market and headed down to the pier, spending the next hour or so at the Seattle Aquarium. There are some really astonishing live exhibits here, including otters, harbor seals, and octopi. Plus, there's anemones, starfish (nay, sea stars), coral and other marine life that look they came right out of an H.P. Lovecraft story.

Your roving Monsterologist, ready for chowder.

 We finished off the evening at The Fisherman's on Pier 57 with chowder, a wedge salad, and mesquite-grilled halibut. Navigating after dark through the various construction zones in town, we made it over the bridge and back home, happy, content and ready to take on another new year.

The Puget Sound, dark and deep.

Looking back east from the water, towards downtown Seattle.

A very big boardwalk to enjoy the view from.

Somebody always has to feed the gulls.

Anemones from Yuggoth ... er, the Seattle Aquarium.

A bed of sea stars, a.k.a. starfish.

A strange-looking salt water plant.

Alien landscape? No, aquarium fish tank!

Our view from the restaurant.

It really was this pink.

Dusk settles on the carousel. Note the quarter moon top right.

HUNCHBACK OF NOTRE DAME FILMBOOK

FAMOUS MONSTERS #33 (May 1965) Cover by Ron Cobb.

Carrying on with the spirit of the 90th anniversary of Lon Chaney's THE HUNCHBACK OF NOTRE DAME, today's offering is the Filmbook from FAMOUS MONSTERS OF FILMLAND #33 (May 1965).

As proclaimed by FM Editor, Forrest J Ackerman: "Lon Chaney Shall Not Die!"

HUNCH-FACTS OF NOTRE DAME

"The Hunchback of Notre Dame is a two-hour nightmare. It's murderous, hideous and repulsive." - Variety review (1923)

 
No self-respecting monster lover could go through the year without recognizing the 90th anniversary of the release of Lon Chaney's THE HUNCHBACK OF NOTRE DAME. Premiering on 6 September 1923, the movie was a split decision with the critics and a huge success with theater-goers, even when it showed a half-a-dozen years later.

Like many movie histories, THE HUNCHBACK OF NOTRE DAME is subject to many extravagant and erroneous assumptions that find life with repetition over time. Here are a few fact-check "Hunch-facts" that have been researched from reliable sources:

• The hump on Chaney's back is said to have weighed up to 75 pounds! The truth is, it was a molded plaster cast that weighed about 20 pounds.
• It is unknown how much box office earnings were, but it was at least $1.5 million.
• Chaney's version was not the first time the story had been adapted for the screen. It had at least 6 previous versions, in varying lengths.
• Chaney originally wanted to not only star in the movie, but produce it as well. However, he could not raise enough money for an independent venture.
• More than 2,000 extras were used on the film. The logistics of feeding so many people was a production in itself!
• Famed columnist Louella Parsons reported that a stage adaption of the film was considered, but according to Chaney he felt it wouldn't work.
• After it's first showing in 1923, the film was re-released and replayed for the next six years.
• Scenes showing the Hunchback crawling on the facade of the Notre Dame cathedral were not always Chaney. At least one stuntman, body-builder Joe Bonamo, was used.

THE GHOUL GALLERY (PART 2)

Gaumont British Picture Corporation's THE GHOUL, starring Boris Karloff and Ernest Thesiger, is 80 years old this year. It was released in August 1933 in London and 25 November 1933 in the U.S. When its copyright failed to be renewed, it ended up languishing on the desert island of Public Domain cast-offs. There exists as yet no definitive version on DVD or Blu-ray (Kino, are you listening?), but a "remastered" edition has been floating around the marketplace.

For years THE GHOUL was thought to have been lost. Then, a rough Czech copy was discovered, but was marred in the eyes of film historians because of its subtitles (a theatrical version was released that had the subtitles on the bottom portion of the screen blocked out, giving it a quasi-widescreen appearance). Finally, an uncut, British version was found and has been well-copied since.

THE GHOUL is creepy and atmospheric, but admittedly some of it relies on the beat up and noisy available prints that have the aged effect that many videographers can only hope to attain in post production. Portions of the story (it deals with Egyptian magic and reincarnation) and some of the sets are reminiscent of Universal's THE MUMMY, released just the previous year. Even Karloff's makeup by little-known Heinrich Heitfeld looks as though it could be a combination of Ardath Bey from THE MUMMY and Morgan from THE OLD DARK HOUSE.

The film has numerous trivia surrounding it. For instance, this was Ralph (later to be knighted, "Sir") Richardson's first screen role. Boris Karloff traveled from America to Great Britain to play in his titular role: it was his first time back in his home country of England for many years and it was also his first British feature film. Another interesting irony is that, in THE OLD DARK HOUSE (1932), Karloff played Ernest Thesiger's butler, and a year later Thesiger was playing Karloff's manservant in THE GHOUL. In Argentina, the film was titled EL VAMPIRO (!), perhaps because there was no title in Argentinian that was suitable to use as "Ghoul"?

Issue #110 of FAMOUS MONSTERS OF FILMLAND included a "Filmbook" on THE GHOUL. The cover image of Karloff from the film was rendered by renowned men's magazine illustrator turned Warren cover artist, Basil Gogos.

Following are very rare, original lobby cards that were sold at auction in 2005. Some went for as much as nearly $5,000.

THE GHOUL is a film worth remembering and anyone who has yet to see it are missing the great team of Karloff and Thesiger, pre-BRIDE OF FRANKENSTEIN!

THE GHOUL GALLERY (PART 1)

THE FIRST BRITISH HORROR FILM of the sound era was also the first to be labeled "Horrific", and it would take a later outright ban to keep people from flocking to the theater to be thrilled by "horrific" movies such as these. Well, like prohibition in the States, we all know how that turned out, don't we?

Today at MONSTER MAGAZINE WORLD is the first of a two part celebration of THE GHOUL, a creepy little melodrama that had a great cast: Boris Karloff, Ernest Thesiger and Sir Ralph Richardson, to name a few.

It has been 80 years since THE GHOUL was released on November 225, 1932. Here are examples of the film posters and publicity stills that were distributed as promotion for the film.