Mad Magician, The (1954)

Author: Brett Gallman
Submitted by: Brett Gallman   Date : 2013-10-25 03:37
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Written by: Crane Wilbur
Directed by: John Brahm
Starring: Vincent Price, Mary Murphy, and Eva Gabor


Reviewed by: Brett Gallman





“Good luck on your murder..."


Since its release in 1953, House of Wax has become an iconic, breakthrough film that ushered in a short-lived 3D craze and practically introduced the world to Vincent Price's horror chops. His performance was a stunner that essentially cast the mold for his later career, as Price would of course go on to become an icon. He specifically perfected the lovelorn, tragic figure driven to madness by some trauma, and he found himself right back in this mode a year after his turn as the deranged Jarrod when he assumed the title role in The Mad Magician. Like 1954’s Phantom of the Rue Morgue, this effort has been largely overshadowed by House of Wax, but that’s not for lack of effort since it’s rather bonkers and features a terrific performance by Price in its own right.

Unlike Phantom, The Mad Magician isn’t an aesthetic cousin to House of Wax but still shares Price, a 3D gimmick, and some of the same crew; it is perhaps every bit as ghastly, too, as it finds Price in the role of Don Gallico, an aspiring magician consigned to toiling behind the scenes and building gags for other showmen. When his first public performance is shut down by his employer (Donald Randolph), Gallico is both frustrated and appalled. Upon learning that his latest trick is legally the domain of the greedy manager, he promptly snaps and feeds the old man’s head to a buzzsaw. With blood on his hands, Gallico orchestrates an elaborate cover-up that finds him assuming the murdered man’s identity and knocking off anyone who might suspect him.

The Mad Magician is unusually macabre for a 50s effort, what with Gallico stuffing a severed head in a leather bag and eventually skinning it in order to masquerade as his slain boss. It has an almost wry sensibility to it, as well, especially in the early-going when Gallico’s leather bag gets switched with that of a female acquaintance’s (Mary Murphy), an episode that’s sort of like the climax of What’s Up, Doc?, only it also features a severed head. When this subsides (without incident!), the film grows increasingly bizarre once Price begins to walk around wearing Randolph’s face and disposing of evidence (for example, he burns his boss’s decapitated body in a bonfire during a football victory rally). The developing cat and mouse game becomes an interesting dance involving Gallico, a rival magician (John Emery), and some conveniently placed foils in the form of a detective (Patrick O’Neil) and a murder mystery writer (Lenita Lane).

Gallico manages to stay one step ahead of them, and you actually want him to stay there. He might be a homicidal maniac, but he’s mostly surrounded by awful people who are even worse; not only is his boss a greedy, manipulative jerk, but he also wooed away Gallico’s wife (Eva Gabor) with his money. Once she enters the picture, she’s revealed to be a terrible floozy whose loyalty shifts with those very riches, so it’s not like these folks don’t have it coming to them. So it goes for just about everyone Gallico encounters, though it should be noted that Price injects the magician with his particular brand of empathetic madness that anticipates his turns as various Poe protagonists a decade later. As he assumes different roles, he also exhibits an admirable range; as Gallico, he’s both mild-mannered and full of rage depending on the situation (the switch is flipped rather quickly), but he does a terrific job of mimicking the other actors he’s impersonating (the makeup effects that aid in the transformation are equally impressive, if not a bit eerie—especially the skin-mask that transforms him into Randolph).

As a production, one can’t help but feel like it’s a quick and dirty cash-in on House of Wax since Columbia didn’t even spring for color photography (yet still opted for a 3D gimmick that features gags that are still obvious without the effect). It arguably could have used a splash of Technicolor, if only to add to the ambiance and atmosphere here. Comparatively speaking, The Mad Magician is a little dry and looks more like an undercooked noir. In fact, it’s weirdly anachronistic all the way around: it feels more like a 40s murder film (like the ones director John Brahm actually helmed during that decade), yet it also foreshadows the twisted, macabre violence that would slash its way to the screen in later decades. It’s a film that features buzzsaws and incinerators, yet never feels too terribly disturbing thanks to the jovial, almost meta-fictional presence of a pulp author that constantly serves as a reminder that this is art essentially imitating art. Despite featuring a handful of gruesome murders (that occur off-screen, of course) and the tragic downfall of a pitiful soul, it ends with a mugging joke to shuffle re-assured audiences out with a laugh.

I’d say that The Mad Magician deserves another go, but it’s not like this material wasn’t mind and exploited for all its gory possibilities once Herschel Gordon Lewis got a hold of it. Even if it doesn’t live up to its complete potential here, it’s still more than an also-ran that spurt out in the wake of House of Wax. Granted, the presence of so many familiar faces (in addition to Price, Mad Magician also features Wax producer Brian Foy and screenwriter Crane Wilbur) and the derivative plot, but its tone is a little bit more playful and offbeat. You won’t find too many films from this era that feature a fevered race to track down a bag containing a severed head. As a Price vehicle, it provides a fascinating reminder that he nailed down this persona with ease and didn’t exactly resume it until the 60s; indeed, there were seemingly very few baby steps in the journey from Jarrod to Usher and his ilk.


Long absent in the digital realm, The Mad Magician only came to DVD last year thanks to Sony’s Choice Collection; again, this is the studio’s in-house disc on demand label that serves up no-frills releases (the ones I’ve encountered don’t even feature a menu). Still, the quality is more than adequate, as the transfer has obviously been re-mastered, though it doesn’t feature a 3D version. Now, if we could only get someone working to bring Phantom of the Rue Morgue home, modern audiences could discover that House of Wax cast a long shadow that has unfortunately obscured its contemporaries. Buy it!




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