In what was unfortunately his next to last directorial effort, Tod Browning creates a fun flick with a good gimmick (and good special effects), fine acting, and ultimately a truly touching quality. As we can see, our vengeance obsessed main character may be an antagonist but is not really a villain. His love for his daughter and mother comes through strongly, and with an actor as compulsively watchable as Lionel Barrymore in the lead, the movie is certainly easy enough to follow.
Barrymore plays Paul Lavond, a banker framed by his partners and sent up the river, who at the beginning of the movie breaks out of Devil's Island prison in the company of a persecuted scientist, Marcel (Henry B. Walthall), who's devised what *he* thinks is the answer to the worlds' hunger problem: shrink everybody and everything so that the quantity of the worlds' food will then amount to more. The thing, Marcel and his wife Malita (Rafaela Ottiano) are clearly mad, and despite Pauls' own misgivings about their actions (yes, our antagonist does have some morals) he's still okay with using them towards his own ends.
This leads to some fairly well realized sequences in which "miniaturized" dogs, horses, and people are controlled by masters such as Barrymore. The sequences in which Lachna (Grace Ford) and Radin (Arthur Hohl) go about particular missions are entertaining every step of the way. In general, the film is a little talky and never terribly scary, but Browning does generate some palpable suspense and in one great moment, as the clock is ticking, the character Matin (Pedro de Cordoba) feels his conscience getting to him. Maureen O'Sullivan, as Lavonds' daughter Lorraine, and Frank Lawton, as ambitious and cheery taxi driver Toto (!), make for an appealing couple. But getting to watch the interesting Mr. Barrymore at work is really the main reason to watch "The Devil-Doll", especially as he dresses in drag as Lavond masquerades as a doddering old character named Miss Mandilip.
Set in Paris, and scripted by Garrett Fort, Guy Endore, and Erich von Stroheim, this does have solid atmosphere going for it, as well as an affecting, emotional ending. This may not be quite as memorable as Brownings' other works, but is worth a look for fans of genre films from this period.
Seven out of 10.
Barrymore plays Paul Lavond, a banker framed by his partners and sent up the river, who at the beginning of the movie breaks out of Devil's Island prison in the company of a persecuted scientist, Marcel (Henry B. Walthall), who's devised what *he* thinks is the answer to the worlds' hunger problem: shrink everybody and everything so that the quantity of the worlds' food will then amount to more. The thing, Marcel and his wife Malita (Rafaela Ottiano) are clearly mad, and despite Pauls' own misgivings about their actions (yes, our antagonist does have some morals) he's still okay with using them towards his own ends.
This leads to some fairly well realized sequences in which "miniaturized" dogs, horses, and people are controlled by masters such as Barrymore. The sequences in which Lachna (Grace Ford) and Radin (Arthur Hohl) go about particular missions are entertaining every step of the way. In general, the film is a little talky and never terribly scary, but Browning does generate some palpable suspense and in one great moment, as the clock is ticking, the character Matin (Pedro de Cordoba) feels his conscience getting to him. Maureen O'Sullivan, as Lavonds' daughter Lorraine, and Frank Lawton, as ambitious and cheery taxi driver Toto (!), make for an appealing couple. But getting to watch the interesting Mr. Barrymore at work is really the main reason to watch "The Devil-Doll", especially as he dresses in drag as Lavond masquerades as a doddering old character named Miss Mandilip.
Set in Paris, and scripted by Garrett Fort, Guy Endore, and Erich von Stroheim, this does have solid atmosphere going for it, as well as an affecting, emotional ending. This may not be quite as memorable as Brownings' other works, but is worth a look for fans of genre films from this period.
Seven out of 10.