化身博士1931

This dichotomous horror cinema progenitor which ripsnortinglydelves into the sordid underside of human psyche, is directed by the Hollywood’s maverick innovatorRouben Mamoulian and made just shy of the scourge of Production Code.

From its unorthodox opening sequences, shot with anovoid vision-bounded subjective angle, immediately viewers realize they are watching something novel, intriguing and challenging the normalcy of our ocular perception of the silver screen. Even appraised in this day and age, Mamoulian’s sleight-of-hand still resoundingly holds court.

In the Victorian London, the respectable Dr. Henry Jekyll (March) concocts a potion which can turn himself into an alter ago of his dark side, Mr. Hyde, whose appearance also changes into a primitive, simian-like reprobate and is immune to any conscience and morality. One of the most extraordinary visual tricks from Mamoulian is the deceptively uninterrupted close-up of Jekyll’s visage morphing into Hyde’s under our direct scrutiny, which he would spill its magic beans decades later. Also, prominent and equally impressive is his implement of montages, in particular during Dr. Jekyll’s first transmogrification, a hallucinogenic concatenation of the extrinsic incentives which tease out a decent man’s darkest facet.

A whey-faced Fredric March wins his first BEST ACTOR Oscar award (shared with Wallace Beery in King Vidor’s THE CHAMP 1931) for buckling down this Janus-faced showcase and rendering it with both ample empathy and pathos, Jekyll’s repeated frustration of consummating with his sweetheart fiancée Muriel (Hobart) works up as the primal trigger of Hyde’s unleashing and persistence, it is rather incisive to link a human’s sexual impulse with his dark side, a motif naturally falls in with Victorian mores and codes of behavior, and looking back, how to lift“sex” from the list of taboos really signifies a big step to understand humanity,

The two actresses serve as trimmings under March’s duopoly, are diametrical in their social statuses, but not so much in their abject thirst of love and blind subjugation to Jekyll’s gentlemanlike front: Miriam Hopkins’ terrorized Ivy Pierson is incredibly harrowing when we all too well really that she is doomed in the cul-de-sac, and Rose Hobart’s ladylike meekness might reflect what one deems as a noble and devoted wife-to-be then (don’t give up your man no matter what), but teeters on the brink of mawkishness quickly seen through a more critical eye. With all the classic oldies now in vogue for revamping and retrofitting,Robert Louis Stevenson’s timeless warhorse could be well infused with a progressive spin (human iniquity is a gold mine to milk) to exhort younger generations, butMamoulian’s ingenuity is nevertheless, substantially nonpareil.

referential point: Fritz Lang’s M (1931, 9.0/10)

我知道管风琴=大反派标配，这是好莱坞传统，但我好像找到了鼻祖？

因为在这个传统出现之前，管风琴代表着宗教信仰，代表神。而在这部电影开头，还能看到管风琴曾经的标签的影子。博士用管风琴弹了一段Ich Ruf Zu Dir Herr Jesu Christ。

只不过被反过来用了，圣咏由基克尔博士弹出来一点都不神圣，还让人后背发凉。最神圣的就是最邪恶的，最干净的就是最脏的。当年的好莱坞导演很有想法啊。

虽然现在类似的梗已经被用烂了，但古早的管风琴反派还挺酷的。

人类对于自己永远存在着认知上的二元悖论。一方面是文明却压抑，另一方面是野蛮却真实。什么才是真实的人类，什么才是真正的自由，怎么也说不好。影片的悲剧在于，灵魂的二重性虽然可以被激发被扼杀，但是肉体的唯一性却无法回避。多希望伴随着一声枪响，倒下了丑陋的hyde，我们英俊的博士可以复活。然而我们都知道，他们其实是一个人，就算不想承认，这个事实却无法改变。

记忆中看过的第一部黑白片是1941年版的《化身博士》，十多年过去，重看此片及更早的1931版，印象完全改观。现在认定为41版剧情拖沓、台词肉麻，表演痕迹重。“化身”前后反差不大，“化身”后也不够坏。完全无法同1931版相提并论。那一版的导演鲁本·马莫利安是个牛人，他的手法在当时完全是超前的。

影片开始，他就用了一个哲基尔医生的主观长镜头一路跟拍：照镜、开门、出门、坐马车和进入会堂，一镜到底的运动镜头。此外，他还用到分屏，先是哲基尔变成海德后渐行渐远的背影，此时镜头旋转，右边画面接着跟出来，切到马上要被海德先生找到的应召女郎，左右两画面同时进行，我们会紧张应召女郎接下来的遭遇。 最神奇的还是“化身”一段，一镜到底丝毫未剪辑，完全想不通方法。说来也巧，看完片第二天我就在1931版《德古拉》的环球新版花絮碟《环球公司恐怖片》里找到了答案。在1969年一次电视采访中，记者再次追问马莫利安究竟是如何拍摄的，导演仍未给出答案。纪录片告诉我们，该技法直到导演死后才由摄影师卡尔·施特劳斯披露，原来这位摄影师早在默片版《宾虚》(1925)就用过——耶稣治疗麻风病人的神迹，麻风病人脸上的深眼眶消失。使用的是颜色过滤手法，即蓝变红，然后演员眼眶上的红就转而看不到了。《化身博士》中正好反过来使用，红色液体被涂在主角眼眶上，然后变成蓝色。摄影师使分别使用红、蓝片拍摄，以达成“消失”的效果，最后再洗成黑白。完成这一基本变形后，镜头再从面部向手移动，以蒙太奇完成，演员面部重新化妆后再继续从手部拍摄，逐渐移至面部，完成最终效果。 演员方面，马区演的哲基尔医生很绅士，有种福尔摩斯的感觉。变身后的海德相貌绝对可以用惊骇形容，无论是相貌、表情还是动作都脱胎换骨，完全看不出是一个人，总觉得是另一个演技派演员。单就这一点，后来的版本就望尘莫及，即便晚了十年，甚至技术和想法都比不过。加之1931版拍于《海斯法典》颁布前，更大胆更直率。1941版则显得保守、虚伪了。