Directed by Rouben Mamoulian — Starring Fredric March, Miriam Hopkins, Rose Hobart and Holmes Herbert
A respected doctor experiments with separating the good and evil sides of human nature, unleashing a darker personality he struggles to control.
Next up in my Halloween horror movie series is Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde.
Back when horror movies won Academy Awards!
And I can see why Fredric March won. He does a remarkable job separating Jekyll and Hyde, going well beyond the makeup and special effects. There’s a real difference in the way he carries himself, speaks, and moves. And speaking of effects, the transformation still holds up remarkably well, even after almost a hundred years.
There are a lot of neat tricks Rouben Mamoulian pulls out. The unsettling point-of-view shots, mirrors, and shadows all create this feeling that you’re not just watching what’s happening but almost participating in it. The movie puts you right inside Jekyll’s experience, and that makes some of the imagery particularly effective.
For 1931, this movie is surprisingly sexual. There are images and scenes here that I wasn’t expecting from a movie of this era. They’re not just there to tempt Jekyll, but seem designed to provoke a reaction from the audience, too. I can only imagine what people thought when they first saw this.
The other interesting thing is how the movie deconstructs the idea of the nice guy. Jekyll is supposed to be the good half, but he’s sexually frustrated because he can’t be with his betrothed, whose wedding is still months away. He’s also obsessed with a sexually aggressive dance hall girl he meets.
Jekyll isn’t necessarily reserved. He isn’t really a “nice guy.” He’s repressed, but there’s also resentment underneath. He wants something he believes he’s being denied, and Hyde becomes the means through which he indulges those impulses.
What’s interesting about this is how familiar that idea feels today. We see men who maintain a respectable public image but reveal a very different side of themselves when they think nobody is watching. You see it particularly in the way some men behave toward women online, where the anonymity of the internet seems to give them permission to express attitudes they would never show in public. There’s a Jekyll and Hyde quality to that separation between the person they present to the world and the person they reveal when they think there are no consequences.
It’s fascinating that a movie made so long ago can still feel so relevant. The technology, the social conventions, and the world around us have changed, but the disconnect between the person someone presents to the world and the person they really are hasn’t gone away.
Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde is a wild ride. Between March’s performance, the inventive filmmaking, and the surprisingly provocative material, this feels remarkably fresh for a movie approaching its hundredth birthday.
Verdict: Demented