Gods
and Monsters
Reviewed
by Leonard Heldreth, August, 1999
A British director whose success
with the play Journey's End brought him to Hollywood in 1930, James
Whale carved out a unique niche in movie history with his horror films
and distinctive sensibility. Although he directed Showboat, The Man
in the Iron Mask, and twenty-three other features, he will be most
remembered for Frankenstein, The Bride of Frankenstein, The Invisible
Man and The Old Dark House. The combination of horror and tongue-in-cheek
humor, especially in Bride of Frankenstein, gave a forward push and
a unique twist to a genre that was just beginning to thrive with the
success of Tod Browning's film of Dracula. While critics may argue
over whether Frankenstein or Bride of Frankenstein is the greater
film, few would deny the influence of either on American cinema, and
a direct line extends from Whale not only to Universal's Frankenstein
sequels but to the cult favorite, The Rocky Horror Picture Show. Without
Whale's sometimes campy vision, Rocky Horror would probably not exist.
Whale also was one of the very few major figures in Hollywood
to be openly gay. While other major actors and directors (such as
George Cukor–A Star is Born, Philadelphia Story, My Fair Lady,
etc.) concealed their lifestyles from the public, Whale lived openly
with a gay companion and apparently clearly lusted after young men
the way other directors pursued aspiring starlets. Perhaps because
of this defiance of Hollywood's rules in the thirties and forties,
and certainly because his later films failed to make money, Whale
found himself gradually shut out of the film establishment. In the
mid-forties he retired from directing and turned to his hobbies and
the comfortable lifestyle that his success had secured for him until
a series of strokes in 1957 affected his memory and other faculties.
He was found dead that year floating in his swimming pool.
Gods and Monsters, which is based on the novel Father
of Frankenstein by Christopher Bram, follows Whale (Ian McKellen)
through the last few weeks of his life, suggesting, often through
flashbacks, the influences on his work from his youth (especially
his experiences in the trenches of World War I), the events leading
up to his drowning and his relationship with Hollywood. The film focuses
upon the fictional and platonic relationship which develops between
the gay Whale and his straight gardener, Clayton Boone (Brendan Fraser
of George of the Jungle), to whom Whale talks as he paints him. A
central scene in the film takes Whale and Boone to George Cukor's
reception for Princess Margaret; and Whale, after insulting Cukor,
poses with Boris Karloff and Elsa Lanchester, neither of whom he has
seen for some time (the people playing Karloff and Lanchester—especially
Karloff—have an amazing resemblance to their prototypes).
The third major figure in the film, Whale's faithful and
devout housekeeper, is sure her employer is going to hell for his
sexual preferences but takes loving care of him anyway. Lynn Redgrave
is almost unrecognizable as the housekeeper but turns in a moving
performance, especially in the last scene as she tries to put the
best turn on a difficult set of events.
McKellen, probably the finest Shake-spearean actor today
(catch his Nazi-inspired film interpretation of Richard III), is excellent
as Whale, portraying both the wit and the despair of a creative artist
who knows his mental state is declining and can do nothing about it.
While he is no longer capable of doing much but looking, he still
lusts after male beauty. McKellen (also openly gay) makes Whale's
flirting both amusing and sad. Whale's strokes have left his mind
unstable, and he unexpectedly experiences odors and visual impressions
from the past; his emotions are no longer under control, and he weeps
despite his best efforts to control it, and McKellen portrays this
range beautifully.
Fraser, a better actor than most of his previous roles
would have suggested, is fine as the hunky but not very sophisticated
gardener. First disbelieving that Whale is gay, then reacting in anger,
and finally removing his shirt to satisfy the old man's need to look
at him, Fraser conveys a subtlety of feeling within the coarse outlines
of his character. Nor is it coincidental that his powerful body, flat-top
haircut and innocence parallel that of Karloff's monster. In the film's
coda, years after Whale's death and after Boone has a child of his
own, we see him dressed all in black, stomping through puddles, and
it is clear that the old director has permanently reshaped Boone as
much as he transformed Mary Shelley's Milton—quoting creation
into the hulking figure of popular Frankenstein lore.
