Black Camel: Chuck Chan in 1931!


actor legends

 Lugosi with Oland.

One of the first of the Warner Oland Charlie Chan movies is a beautifully restored print from 1931. It has other surprises too. It was filmed on location in Charlie Chan’s home base of Honolulu and uses the scenery to great effect. It is cryptically called The Black Camel.

Fresh off the horror of the year, Dracula, you have two cast members in fine fettle:  Dwight Frye and Bela Lugosi. They play a respective butler and a questionable psychic, all too willing to help Chan.

Lugosi and Frye were scheduled to make James Whale’s Frankenstein after this picture, but when Whale saw this, he thought Bela Lugosi would be too scary for the monster. The part went to Karloff instead.

The film does not hide some white tourist prejudice, compounded because the detective is both Chinese and a policeman. And, the cast of extras includes many Hawaiians.

The dark metaphor of the Black Camel has something to do with kneeling Death coming a-calling. It is one of many little aphorisms that Charlie Chan spouts dryly.

Instead of an irritating older son, this film features an inept young assistant to Chan. We do see Charlie’s family at a large dinner table in one scene, but the cheap sets and low budget formula would come in the next few films.

Warner Oland is masterful, as always, and it is quite a mangled English that we hear from both Oland and Lugosi in their conversations, that are quite witty and delightful.

There are a half-dozen quite credible suspects, and they are indeed all gathered in the drawing room (and dining room) for the big reveal.

This wonderful early mystery is a surprise and delight on every level.





Frankenstein & the Vampyre

DATELINE: Horrors’ Start

Lord Byron  Byronic Vampire?

As one expert notes, these personages in the title are the twin pillars of modern horror—more than a century of monstrous concepts: life coming out of the dead.

A Dark and Stormy Night  is the subtitle of this intriguing documentary that uses the words of five people thrown together at Villa Diodati in 1816. This illustrious group of young bohemians of the era included two immortal poets, Shelly and Byron, their paramours, and their young doctor.

For those without a proper literary historical perspective, Lord Byron challenged his housemates one stormy night to write a ghost story. They had the summer without light, as it was called, to do it.  In the United States, it was called “the year without summer.”

Switzerland and the world suffered in 1816 from a year without proper summer: crops failed, storms cascaded around the Earth because of a super-volcanic explosion in the Pacific. So with a constant barrage of thunderstorms and lighting candles in mid-afternoon, the crew of Mary Shelley, Percy Shelly, Dr. J.M. Polidori (Byron’s travel companion) and Claire (Byron’s latest stalker/groupie) took up the task.

They allegedly urged, critiqued, and drove each other on to come up with a horrifying tale. Mrs. Shelley wrote about the modern Prometheus, Frankenstein, and Dr. Polidori came up with the first elegant, aristocratic vampire that set the mold for Dracula in fifty years.

Some wags believed that Byron wrote the original outline, and Polidori, pretender to the poet, stole it and finished it.

The scandalous summer featured rumors of drugs, sex, and bizarre carrying on, which suited the weirdness of the weather in 1816.

Of course, burning the candle as it were all day and all night, led to an early demise of Polidori in 1821, Shelley in 1822, and Byron in 1824.  Mary Shelley lived to see her story take on a life in literature—and years later realized she had survived the ghosts of Diodati.

Fascinating documentary with earnest re-enactors, trying to avoid their sexual peccadilloes. It seems almost preposterous that those so young could produce such masterpieces of literature.

It’s a story worth watching.

Move over Caligula and Dracula, A-Rod is Here



Never enter a situation where you work with a kookoo bird with a litigation complex.  If you are sued by a psychotic with millions of dollars—or even a sociopath with unlimited resources, your time will be squandered.

MLB and Bud Selig have incurred the wrath of Alex Rodriguez.

Baseball wants to banish him to Elba, as befits Napoleon on steroids, botox and human growth hormone, but they have only served to antagonize the Yankee version of Vlad the Impaler.

You always know who has the right of way at an intersection or rotary when you drive: it’s the driver who looks crazier. In this case the man texting behind the wheel is A-Rod.

As is the case with total delusions, Rodriguez believes that MLB is intent on destroying him. That may be why they have made him a multi-millionaire with salary out of proportion to his mental capacity.

Why you may wonder would a man whose career is over from a chronological age point of view is so intent on fighting the system, battling the universe, and facing his own flaws? Well, one good reason is that there is nothing else in his life.

Yes, A-Rod may have had that hideous epiphany in the middle of the night when his paid companions were not enough. His sex life was devoid of meaning, purpose, or even satisfaction. His development could not be any more arrested than if he were selling PEDs in the dugout.

When that happened to Caligula, he made his horse a senator and began sleeping with his sister and eating her fetus.

A-Rod may not be on a par with depraved Roman emperors, but he is close enough to warrant an HBO cable movie one of these days.


 You may want to read more in SEX, DRUGS, SPORTS & WHIMSY, VOLUMES 1 AND 2. You can find these books on