How A Forgotten Sci-Fi Thriller Introduced A Horror Icon
Without Man-Made Monster, Lon Chaney Jr. may never have become a Universal Monsters icon.
Although one of the lesser-known flicks from Universal’s horror boom, 1941’s Man-Made Monster strangely proved to be one of the most impactful. A copyright infringement case centered around its re-release's new title 15 years later ultimately led to the formation of American International Pictures. Furthermore, it was responsible for transforming its leading man into one of the genre’s greats.
Lon Chaney Jr. had already racked up dozens of credits by the time he was cast as Dan McCormick, a sideshow act whose freakish immunity to electricity makes him the sole survivor of a deadly bus collision with a pylon (considering its suspiciously similar plot, Unbreakable director M. Night Shyamalan may well be a fan). But celebrating its 85th anniversary this day, the sci-fi chiller marked his horror debut. Remarkably, by the end of the following year, he’d become the first ever actor to assume all of the studio’s four main villains (Frankenstein’s monster, The Mummy, Dracula, Wolf Man).
Chaney Jr., of course, had horror in his blood. Hailed as The Man of a Thousand Faces due to his pioneering use of prosthetics, the father he was named after had practically cornered the market in silent movie monsters, most memorably terrifying audiences in The Phantom of The Opera and The Hunchback of Notre Dame. However, his son was initially hesitant to follow in his footsteps.
In fact, Chaney Jr. spent his early years working in a plumbing company until his dad’s untimely death in 1930 prompted a career change. He initially performed under his birth name of Creighton Chaney, too, before Universal insisted he capitalize on his Hollywood roots and adopt his more familiar nepotistic moniker.
The once-reluctant actor also has two other horror icons to thank for his big break. Boris Karloff had signed up to play McCormick four years earlier, with Bela Lugosi cast as his mad scientist master, Dr. Paul Rigas, too. But considered far too similar to one of their other joint projects, The Invisible Ray, the film was scrapped before the studio’s new execs decided it was worthy of a resurrection.
Lon Chaney Jr. maintaining the family tradition.
Shot on the cheap for just $86,000 and in the space of just three weeks, the version of Man-Made Monster that finally made it into theaters wasn’t expected to change the game. However, bosses were so impressed with Chaney Jr.’s multi-layered turn as a zombified killing machine they offered him an exclusive deal.
Chaney’s imposing stature means he inevitably commands every scene. But although he was never going to challenge for an Oscar, he still imbues his tragic character with heart and sympathy. McCormick desperately doesn’t want to be a murderer. Yet under the control of the dastardly Rigas and the thousands of volts pumped into him, he has no choice, resulting in a wave of terror that leads to the death of both the monster and the man who made him.
The film, which at various points has gone under the names of Electric Man, The Mysterious Dr. R., and The Atomic Monster, is far from a one-man show, though. Lionel Atwill brings just the right amount of megalomania as Rigas, the scientist hellbent on taking over the world through the power of electricity. When described as mad by his aghast colleague Lawrence (Samuel S. Hinds), he freely admits, “I am. So was Archimedes, Galileo. Newton, Pasteur, Lister, and all the others who dared to dream!”
Written by director George Waggner, who also had no prior experience of horror having cut his teeth on various westerns, the script is peppered with similar zingers. “I'll bet he spent his childhood stickin' pins into butterflies,” reporter Mark (Frank Albertson) remarks, not unfairly, about Rigas. Then there’s the more philosophical asides, such as when Lawrence asks his deranged co-worker, “With all the constructive things to be done, why do you concentrate on destruction?”
McCormick at the mercy of a mad scientist.
Despite the limited budget, the special effects are also impressive for the time, particularly when McCormick, on the warpath having just been subjected to the electric chair, emits a sinister glow. And let’s not forget Corky, the adorable dog whose unwavering loyalty to his master brings the film to a surprisingly emotionally charged close.
Man-Made Monster could never be described as a classic. It spends far too much of its slim hour-long running time in the courtroom, for one thing. And suggesting most of their scenes were left on the cutting room floor, the love story between Mark and Lawrence’s daughter June (Anne Nagel) barely even registers.
Nevertheless, it remains one of the more watchable semi-original films Universal threw out in-between all their big hitters. And without it, the history of mid-20th century horror may have been robbed of one of its most electrifying figures.
