Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde (1931)

I want to say I watched “Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde” (1931) during October of last year, but just the same it felt very fresh, this particular viewing. Turner Classics showed it early this week in the morning and I thought it would be an ideal late night experience. It turns out I was right in that assessment, and the pre-code content featuring Miriam Hopkins’ “lady of the night”, Ivy, was eye-popping. I will admit I found her use of legs (how the camera can’t leave them) in bed—trying to seduce the gentlemanly doctor, after Jekyll came to her rescue when a thug went to beat her at a rough side of London, carrying her in his arms up the steps to her apartment—quite provocative and arousing. Miriam had a great role in this film, and I think the decision to take it after a bit of threatening from the director (said to have turned her arm by telling her that other actresses would easily replace her) was a favor because the Muriel part (played by Rose Hobart), the love of Jekyll’s life, was more traditional and elegant. Ivy is sexy and complex, a woman who enjoys a bit of the wild life, seemingly gravitates towards drama, remains a frequent visitor at the darker side of London, at its smoke-and-bourbon pub where men go to find loose women and rowdier goings-on. Ivy catches the eye of Hyde, remembering her when Jekyll met her and was nearly seduced by her, and she’s never outside the scope of danger again. There’s a tragic scene where Ivy goes to be comforted and protected by Jekyll, who makes a promise to prevent Hyde from ever bothering her again…a promise he can in no way keep. And when Hyde returns to Ivy’s home, knowing she had knelt at Jekyll's knees, begging for his help, I know how I felt—and I can only imagine audiences down through the generations also felt this way—when it seemed there would be no escape. The director, Mamoulian, and his talented crew just wowed me quite a bit in this particular viewing. The swipes from scene to scene, for instance, there are playful “stops” midway where each one continues in conversation as another one eventually takes over. The first person perspective at the beginning, where we are Jekyll’s eyes (and this is again done during the incredible first transformation from Jekyll to Hyde), the camera looking directly at people, like Jekyll’s butler, Poole (Edgar Norton), his reflection in the mirror, a coachman, playing the piano (this especially popped me) are quite innovative for their time. How Fredric March separates the two sides of Jekyll and Hyde, providing distinctive differences, such as how Jekyll is romantic, loving, gentle, and affectionate with Muriel while Hyde is barbaric, vicious, violent, and thuggish to Ivy is remarkable. March’s tortured Jekyll when confronting Muriel about having to “set her free” and “let go of his claim to her” while she tries to understand why he suffers so, then not long after Hyde emerges, fully in control and manic, the actor is mesmerizing. His facial tics and jerks, revealing the struggle to keep Hyde away, but unable to do so no matter how hard he tries, March is nothing short of brilliant. That not another actor was able to win the Oscar in the horror genre until Hopkins in “Silence of the Lambs” (1990) just tells us how good March really was to circumvent the typical critical response to films like “Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde”. The Robert Louis Stevenson novel has been treated with greater respect, though, as even Spencer Tracy and Ingrid Bergman committed to the story a decade later. When I read that the studio behind the Tracy/Bergman film tried to suppress the ’31 film (if what I read was correct regarding trying to actually destroy the prints of the March version, I could never look at the ’41 film the same) so that the ’41 version could be free of comparison, I was stunned. To think that I couldn’t be able to see the March version is unimaginable. His performance has every right to be preserved for future generations interested in 1930s horror. The included marriage attempts of Jekyll and Muriel, combated by Muriel’s father’s intentions for them to wait months until full approval, adds a detriment that perhaps helps so shield the bride-to-be from Hyde…and the film does well by conveying just how Hyde maintains his beastly hold over the weakening Jekyll. The darker aspects of human nature seemingly hard to just split apart and cast aside, instead gaining traction and strengthened when Jekyll pursues a serum to do that, giving Hyde the chance to emerge and run free of restraint get the full treatment in this film; director Mamoulian allows March to really emphasize both sides, especially Hyde. Hyde’s primate-like presence and movements, such as when he kills Ivy (her inability to get away, seemingly at ease after Jekyll’s promise, only to see him return in horror, is so gut-wrenching) and flees into the streets as police follow in pursuit, further enhance the character and his evasiveness. What a great adaptation. While I do recommend the Barrymore silent adaptation and there is elegance in the 1941 version, too, to me the 1931 March/Mamoulian masterpiece is the quintessential adaptation…I think it gets the story just right in regards of the duality of good and evil in us all and how Jekyll simply cannot bury Hyde, the dark prevailing despite the attempts of the scientist and his serum to cage that side. 5/5

*I do want to mention that the period sets of London and costumes, art direction and historical depiction when the story was set is another reason this film adaptation is essential viewing if you are a fan of the story. But even the 1941 version does that right. I don’t mind Tracy’s performance but I think March is just a cut above them all, even the fantastic Barrymore, who I was never a big fan of.