Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde (1920)
Directed by: John S. Robertson
Written by: Clara S. Beranger, based on the novel by Robert Louis Stevenson
Starring: John Barrymore, Martha Mansfield, Brandon Hurst, Charles Lane, Cecil Clovelly, Nita Naldi, Louis Wolheim
About the sixth or seventh film adaptation of Mr. Stevenson's novel (which I vaguely remember reading, though I'm not entirely sure I have) about a man who drinks a magic potion and turns into an asshole. Alcoholic much?
Well, anyway, I'm actually not that big a fan of the Jekyll/Hyde story (the Incredible Hulk is my least favourite superhero), although I do dig fuzzy old silent pictures.
And this one was alright. The acting was decent (as far as I could tell - I mean, they seemed like they were doing a good job), and Mr. Hyde looked uncannily like Richard the III. He was all hunchy and that. At least he didn't have fur though. God. The Jekyll/Hyde thing is a werewolf story, technically speaking, but that doesn't mean the guy should be furry.
Whatever. The really big problem I had with the movie - and the movie may have seemed much better were it not for this fact - was the music.
I gather that there is a version of this film with a real musical score, written for the film and all that, but this is not it. This had just a bunch of music that some jerk stuck in there without even watching it to make sure it matched up.
Okay, I'm not really mad at whatever poor sod who did this job. I'm sure they weren't getting paid nearly enough to care. But still, it's disrespectful.
The only reason I didn't turn the sound off was that some of it was really funny. There's a scene where buddy is killing this other guy, beating the shit out of him and biting him and stuff and they've got these happy bells playing over top.
I nearly exploded. It was about the funniest thing I've seen in my life (oh my God, that's really sad. Okay, I've seen way funnier stuff, but I was in a good mood that night).
Yeah. So. That was pretty funny. I kinda feel bad for the movie, though. I mean, my whole estimation of it comes from some ridiculously inappropriate music some dork put in 80 years after the fact.
Ah well. So it goes.
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