It's not likely that a Poverty Row horror film like The Face of Marble (1946) will ever end up on anyone's top ten list - unless the category is guilty pleasures - but that's what distinguishes a movie like this from a title on the AFI approved list of great American classics. A cult movie rarely conforms to conventional standards of what's good and what's bad and that's why The Face of Marble could be a more entertaining and challenging viewing experience than say, Ingmar Bergman's Winter Light (1963). For one thing, you need a scorecard to keep track of the anything-goes-plot which ties together failed scientific experiments, reanimated corpses, a blood-drinking ghost dog that can walk through walls, a Voodoo-practicing housekeeper and one woman's hopeless, unrequited romantic obsession with her husband's young assistant.

Unfolding with the illogical progression of a bad dream, The Face of Marble opens on a dark and stormy night as Professor Randolph (John Carradine) searches for a new guinea pig for his electro-chemical experiment, a procedure that has the potential to revive the recently deceased. Immediately you know he's doomed to failure because mad scientists in horror films NEVER succeed. But Dr. Randolph doesn't know that and, along with fellow researcher Dr. David Cochran (Robert Shayne), tries to bring a drowned fisherman back to life, succeeding only in giving the cadaver a "face of marble" (a ghostly white makeup effect that Robert Blake must have copied for his character in David Lynch's Lost Highway, 1997). Other guinea pigs follow including Brutus, the faithful family dog, who is transformed into a transparent being who starts preying on the local livestock.

With its dingy, claustrophobic sets and overwrought performances, The Face of Marble often looks and sounds like a bad play performed by the inmates of a mental institution. Take, for instance, the scene where David's fiance Linda witnesses a ghostly visitation from Brutus. She freaks out, telling Dr. Randolph's wife, Maria, that she saw "a monster dog, he came in right through the closed window. He had a mad gleam in his eye, he was frothing at the mouth." To which Maria responds impassively, "Well, perhaps you'd rather sleep in my room, Linda." Like duh. How about calling the local exorcist? Nobody behaves sensibly in movies like The Face of Marble which is part of its loony charm.

In Poverty Row Horrors! by Tom Weaver, co-star Robert Shayne recalled working on The Face of Marble and his impressions of workaholic actor John Carradine who would rehearse Shakespeare dialogue on the darkened set when all of the other crew and cast members broke for lunch. He also remembered seeing the film with an audience: "I went to see a preview of it over in South Los Angeles somewhere, with my wife and another couple. We were near the back of the theatre, and as this picture went along I hung my head, I was so embarrassed by it! Finally, when the thing was over, I got out into the lobby...Two young ladies came out and stood against an opposite wall, and they did a double take when they saw who I was. And one of them came over to me and said [wagging a finger], "Mr. Shayne, you ought to be ashamed to be in a picture like that!" Even the Legion of Decency dumped on The Face of Marble, giving it a B rating with these comments, "encourages credence in voodooism and superstitious practices; suicide in plot solution."

All of which makes The Face of Marble required viewing for horror movie die-hards and those willing to open their minds to the genuine delights of a poverty row quickie. The only downer is Willie Best's appearance as the frightened black servant, a painful reminder of the racial stereotypes that were prevalent in Hollywood movies of this era.

One note of interest: the director, William Beaudine, entered films at the medium's early beginnings, working with D.W. Griffith. Although he directed several notable silents such as Little Annie Rooney (1925) and Sparrows (1926), he primarily ended up working for cheapjack operations like PRC and Monogram Pictures. The famous story goes that Beaudine, working late one evening on a low-budget Western for Monogram, was ordered by an executive to speed up production due to product-hungry exhibitors. His famous retort, "You mean someone out there is actually waiting to see this?" has since become legendary.

Producer: Jeffrey Bernerd
Director: William Beaudine
Screenplay: Michel Jacoby
Art Direction: Dave Milton
Cinematography: Harry Neumann
Editing: William Austin
Music: Edward J. Kay
Cast: John Carradine (Dr. Charles Randolph), Claudia Drake (Elaine Randolph), Robert Shayne (David Cochran), Maris Wrixon (Linda Sinclair), Willie Best (Shadrach).
BW-73m.

by Jeff Stafford