Disembodied Voices and the Spectacle of the Unseen
(originally posted on IMDb 3 October 2018)

A classic of 1930s horror and sci-fi, "The Invisible Man" is arguably only surpassed by the first two Frankenstein films among Universal's monster movies, with all three having been directed by James Whale. Following his "The Old Dark House" (1932), it continues and expands on the blend of the macabre with dark humor, also anticipating the camp of "Bride of Frankenstein" (1935). Instead of the impressive makeup and laboratory gizmos of the Frankenstein films, this one features some remarkable visual effects. Moreover, in adapting the novel of the same name by H.G. Wells, the filmmakers made an intelligent self-reflexive connection between the disembodied voice of the Invisible Man with the disembodied voices of modern technology, namely the radio and the telephone, as well as to the cinematic device of the voiceover--and in so doing allude to the then still recent invention of talking pictures and how the voices of the talkies made invisible the art of bodies and faces of the silent film.

Fortunately, Claude Rains had one of the best theatrically-trained voices of his era to lend to the Invisible Man, Jack Griffin. It's an all-time great performance to be unseen, as his character descends into madness, with a wonderful maniacal laugh and strange quips (from the obscure, "How's that for a hairbrush, George Henry," to the megalomaniacal, "Even the Moon's frightened of me"). The low camera angles also aid in making the diminutive Rains appear menacing. An effect also employed in "Frankenstein" (1931), the three shots, each subsequent one closer than the last, as Rains enters the tavern is another such simple but effective technique, which along with the goggles, prosthetic nose and bandaged-wrapped head, create his horrific figure. The townsfolk led by the over-the-top facial expressions of the whaling Una O'Connor and the bumbling bobby E.E. Clive are a hoot, from initial bewilderment to inevitable panic. The shot of a screaming woman running away from the skipping pants of a singing Rains is especially hilarious. The only major drawback is the melodramatic additions and love triangle not found in the book--similar to the unnecessary addition in the 1931 "Frankenstein"--as led by Gloria Stuart and Henry Travers, better known for their later roles in "Titanic" (1997) and "It's a Wonderful Life" (1946), respectively. Altering Dr. Kemp's role, a character from the novel, to a sniveling foil to Griffin's reign of terror is fine, though. The film still contains a police dragnet and some unusual procedures for trying to capture the Invisible Man, as did Wells, except here they're from the mind of the police Inspector rather than Kemp.

Wisely, the film also does away with much of the science-y mumbo-jumbo from the novel where Griffin explains his invention and how he became invisible, largely replacing it with the simple drug of monocaine, which also explains Griffin's madness. Besides suggesting Griffin's (mono)mania and "caine" alluding to the Biblical Cain, as well as cocaine, this setup the sequel "The Invisible Man Returns" (1940) to do something rather clever with the name change to "duocaine" (i.e. because a sequel equals two films, and "duo" means two). Like "Frankenstein," "The Invisible Man" is as much, if not more so, sci-fi as it is horror and decidedly not of the supernatural variety initiated by "Dracula" (1931). Although there's nothing like the influential laboratory design of the 1931 "Frankenstein" here, the numerous beakers and the ravings of Rains help to make the science cinematic.

Plus, there are the photographic effects of traveling mattes to create the transparent man, from the initial quick glance of the absence of his mouth to tour-de-force mirror shots of Griffin unraveling his bandages. Other effects were achieved by moving props and wires invisible to the camera and a couple miniatures of a train and automobile. Effects man John P. Fulton did a great job; to my eye, I noticed more mistakes in his subsequent work than here (e.g. an obvious string in "The Invisible Man Returns," the visible teeth in "Invisible Agent" (1942) and the eyes in one scene and wires in another in "The Invisible Man's Revenge" (1944)).

Besides this irony of the spectacle of the unseen, there's the aptness of the role of the disembodied voice in the film. Updating Wells's fin-de-siècle story to the contemporary and more mechanical age of the film's production allows for use of not only modern cars, but the telephone and radio--two mediums that cast disembodied voices, like the naked Invisible Man. The filmmakers make this connection clear, too, in juxtaposition. Kemp first hears about the Invisible Man from the radio, which is turned off and with the radio announcer's sentence being finished by the voice of the unseen Griffin. Instead of letters, appropriate for the novel, Kemp uses the telephone to call for help, including in a montage scene of tips being phoned into the police. (One of the better jokes from Costello in the parody "Abbott and Costello Meet the Invisible Man" (1951) regards this connection of disembodied voices between the phone and an Invisible Man). There's also a montage with wipe transitions of images of the police dragnet, with the Inspector's narration providing voiceover, and the scene and voice, then, transitioning to the radio address from another disembodied voice. This is a clever substitution for the device in the book of an unseen narrator, whose third-person narration is a secondhand account from visible witnesses of the Invisible Man.

Moreover, in 1933, the talkies were only about a half decade old as the dominant mode in cinema, and there were still holdouts remaining in the silent era, including Hollywood's own Charlie Chaplin. This new art form erased an entire actorly system of bodily gestures and facial expressions, as Hollywood turned to other avenues, including by recruiting radio talent, to find its new voice. As the silent era vanished, "The Invisible Man" revels in the disembodiment of the actor's voice and the spectacle and spectre of the unseen.

(Included in my ranking of Invisible Man movies.)