Since the very first adaptation of Frankenstein was committed to celluloid by Thomas Edison’s movie studio in 1910, with Charles Ogle in the Monster makeup, several notable personalities have been called upon to portray Mary Shelley’s “hideous progeny.” This list is comprised primarily, although by no means exclusively, of menace-makers synonymous with the horror genre like Boris Karloff, Bela Lugosi, Lon Chaney Jr., and Christopher Lee.
A pair of Taxi Driver costars were tasked with depicting the Creature twenty years apart from one another. Peter Boyle played it for laughs in Mel Brooks’ Young Frankenstein while Robert DeNiro brought a composite of pathos and rage to his characterization for the more or less true-to-the-book big screen version starring and directed by Kenneth Branagh.
Before
embodying Darth Vader in the original Star Wars trilogy, David Prowse
was twice cast as the Monster in the Hammer horror film series. More contemporary
actors as diverse as Raul Julia, Randy Quaid, Clancy Brown, Aaron Eckhardt,
Rory Kinnear, Benedict Cumberbatch, Jonny Lee Miller and, most recently, Jacob
Elordi have all given distinctive and at times idiosyncratic interpretations of
Frankenstein’s Creature.
One name
that is almost always omitted from the discussion is short-term heavyweight
champion Primo Carnera. The fact that ‘The Ambling Alp’ played the role of the
Monster for a live 1957 television production is quite appropriate, not just because
of his imposing stature but the fact that many believe his boxing career itself
was something of a Frankenstinian creation. Carnera, boxing purists have argued,
was a parody of a prizefighter manufactured from various source materials which
shared an unpredictable and unfavorable correspondence with one another.
Was Primo
merely a graceless, hulking brute of an automaton who was made to mimic the
actions of a professional boxer with results that were mixed to put it mildly
and questionable even at their best? Novelist and hall of fame boxing
journalist Budd Schulberg certainly thought so, sketching a caricature of
Carnera in the form of mobbed-up bruiser Toro Molina for his novel The
Harder They Fall, which was later turned into a feature film starring
Humphrey Bogart in his final screen appearance.
Mike Lane,
whose first acting gig would come as Toro Moreno, the character based on Primo
Carnera in the movie version of The Harder They Fall, would
coincidentally also play Mary Shelley’s Monster—in Frankenstein 1970,
starring Boris Karloff, who this time was the mad doctor rather than the
misunderstood Creature. “I read the book. So did my lawyers” said Carnera on
the topic of Schulberg’s alleged sendup of him in The Harder They Fall.
“And if it had been about me, I would have sued. But I saw no resemblance.”
Albert
McCleery, producer of NBC’s Matinee Theater, obviously envisioned a
resemblance between Carnera and Frankenstein’s Monster when it came time to
fill the role for its February 5, 1957 live broadcast. Carnera was no stranger
to show business, moonlighting while still an active fighter in such movies as The
Bigger They Are, Mr. Broadway, and The Prizefighter and the Lady
along with Max Baer and Jack Dempsey. He was featured in ten Italian film
productions during the war years and made a cameo as a strongman in 1949’s Mighty
Joe Young. Following his appearance in “Frankenstein,” Carnera planned to
tour Europe, Asia, and South America on the wrestling circuit.
Besides
turning to professional wrestling when his boxing career was said and done,
Primo had opened a restaurant conveniently located adjacent to the Twentieth
Century-Fox studio lot. “My wife does the cooking—Russian, French, Italian
food,” Carnera said of his eatery, which was frequented by Jayne Mansfield in
addition to other Fox contract players. “Oh, it’s a lot of headaches. Harder
than the boxing business or acting. Buying food and handling the personnel is
tough.”
One of many
network anthology programs airing at the time, the hour-long Matinee Theater debuted on NBC in 1956 with the not-at-all-spooky Halloween night presentation
of a story called “Beginning Now” about the travails of an impressionable youth
being led astray by the example of his reprobate father. Friday, June 13, 1958
would prove to be unlucky indeed for the series which wrapped production that
afternoon on what would be its last ever live broadcast, “Course for
Collision.”
Among its
nearly 600 episodes, Matinee Theater aired adaptations of macabre
literary classics like Robert Louis Stevenson’s “The Bottle Imp” and The
Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, as well as “The Tell-Tale Heart,”
“The Fall of the House of Usher,” and “The Cask of Amontillado,” all of which
originated from the quilled pen of Edgar Allan Poe.
Universal
Studios had famously brought Bram Stoker’s Dracula and H.G. Wells’ The
Invisible Man to life on the silver screen during Hollywood’s Golden Age of
Horror, and these stories were likewise given the Matinee Theater treatment for live television, with John Carradine reprising the role of the
Transylvanian Count that he had played in Universal’s monster rallies House
of Frankenstein and House of Dracula. Carradine would don the black cape
once more for the frightfully bad 1966 shlock-fest Billy the Kid vs. Dracula.
Though Mary
Shelley’s novel has long since been in the public domain, Universal had gone to
the trouble of putting a copyright on the iconic Frankenstein flattop and electrodes applied by Jack Pierce to Karloff, Lugosi, Chaney, and Glenn Strange throughout
the course of eight movies in which the Monster appeared between 1931 and 1948.
“Primo
Carnera, all 280 pounds of him, will scare the curlers and cold cream off the
housewives Tuesday afternoon when he shows up on television as Frankenstein’s
monster,” wrote UP reporter Aline Mosby in a preview of the 1957 Matinee
Theater production. “The show follows the novel, not the movie, so the
monster will have a heavily-veined face, but no bolts sticking out of his neck.
Carnera will wear lifts on his shoes to make him even taller while he smashes
chairs and throttles victims.”
The look
producers opted to give Carnera’s Creature was similar to the cosmetic motif
worn by Lon Chaney Jr. in the infamous 1952 Tales of Tomorrow episode
and later used for Robert DeNiro’s Monster, favoring a clean shaven skull which
was covered, as was the face, with a network of grisly cross-stitched sutures.
This same design was also employed by director Danny Boyle for his two
Monsters, Benedict Cumberbatch and Jonny Lee Miller, who switched off playing Creature
and creator for alternate versions of the London National Theatre’s outstanding
production of Frankenstein.
An AP report
printed the claim made by NBC’s publicity department that “It took five makeup
men, working in shifts, three hours to give the big Italian the proper look of
horror for a dress rehearsal.” A wire photo consisting of two separate images
and dated January 31, five days prior to the live broadcast, shows a
weary-looking Carnera enduring the process wherein makeup artists Bill Morley
and Walt Schenck applied a syrupy, flammable, and slightly toxic
adherent called collodion, while the other half of the picture features
Schenck and Ed Butterworth carefully adding the stitching to get Primo
camera ready for his first dress rehearsal at Burbank’s Color City Studios.
Thanks to a
lengthy, career-spanning retrospective interview director Walter E. Grauman
gave to the Emmy Foundation in 2009, we know that Primo had only a select few
speaking lines to memorize. Nevertheless, Grauman vividly recalled Carnera
struggling with the timing of when exactly to interject his dialogue during the
first table read of the script, initially relying on gesticulated time-cues
from the director.
“Make
another. Make a monster just like me. A woman just like me,” Grauman remembered
Carnera having to plead with his creator. Denied his request for companionship,
the Monster was supposed to lift his surrogate father up over his head and
violently hurl him against a wall. At the dress rehearsal, Grauman instructed
Primo to practice this scene with a stunt man, but the ex-boxer objected on the
grounds that he might unintentionally injure him. Perhaps he should have
prepared for the big moment in the live broadcast after all, as an overzealous
Carnera picked up the stunt man “like a toy” as cameras rolled, tossing him not
just at the wall, but right through it.
“I thought I
was going to die,” Grauman laughed, recounting the incident. “I’m in the
control room and all I hear is this crashing thud and I think, ‘Oh God, that’s
the end of the show. The guy’s dead.’ Well, by the grace of God he wasn’t hurt.
He was just bruised a little bit, and we went on to continue with the rest of
the show.”
Despite the Matinee
Theater broadcast of “Frankenstein” often being referred to as “lost,” this
is not the case. The Library of Congress does have a Kinescope of the episode
in its vast archives but has yet to digitize the recording. What is available
to the public is an eight-minute audio file made from a surviving reel-to-reel
of the NBC air-check which allows listeners to enjoy the opening and closing
narration by host John Conte, as well as interviews he conducted right after
the finale of the live broadcast with stars Tom Tryon, Christine White, and Vic
Perrin.
“We felt
that, in order not to destroy any illusion, we would not bring Frankenstein’s
Monster on camera at this point,” says Conte. “But I know you all join me in a
special tribute to Mr. Primo Carnera. I’m sure you three will agree with me of
the gentleness of this fine man in spite of his size, and of the monumental
character of his performance today.” On account of Carnera’s benign nature, the
general consensus was in total harmony.
“Appropriately,
the drama ended somewhat indecisively with the monster supposedly mortally
wounded but at the fadeout, partially lifting himself to show that there was
life in the mechanism created by a scientist bent on inventing his own private
man,” Fort Worth Star-Telegram sportswriter Lorin McMullen summarized in
his column. “The camera departed before revealing whether Primo then settled
back in his death shudder or arose again to terrify the countryside.”
In the
monster movies of old, of course, the undying Creation of Frankenstein would
meet his demise but return time and again to terrorize the countryside in
sequel after sequel. Furthermore, the Monster was occasionally matched against
ghastly contemporaries like the Wolf Man and Dracula for throwdowns of the
nightmarish variety.
But did one
Frankenstein Monster ever fight another? Not on screen as far as I know. But,
according to Glenn Strange, that is precisely what happened in the boxing ring.
Standing
six-foot-five and tipping the scales at 220 pounds, Strange had a build not
dissimilar to Primo Carnera. An eighth-grade dropout who was raised to be a
cattle rancher by his father, Glenn drifted around New Mexico, Oklahoma, and
Texas taking on a variety of odd jobs along the way as a farm hand, traveling
musician, policeman, and firefighter before eventually finding consistent work
as a stunt man and actor in Hollywood.
Fans of Gunsmoke
remember him best as bartender Sam Noonan, but Monster Kids celebrate the
aptly-named Strange for inheriting the role of Frankenstein’s Creation from
Karloff, Chaney, and Lugosi in a trio of Universal monster mashes—House of
Frankenstein, House of Dracula, and Abbott and Costello Meet
Frankenstein. Strange’s elongated facial structure gave his Frankenstein
Creature a unique look which later served as the model for Fred Gwynne’s Herman
Munster.
Another
profession to which Strange had given a go as a young man was pugilism.
Although Boxrec has only one bout listed on Strange’s resume—a second-round
knockout loss to a six-foot Texan named Ox Cowan on June 24, 1930—he claimed to
have once been on the same card with Jack Dempsey. After witnessing Strange
evidently get knocked out on this occasion as well, Dempsey offered Glenn some
friendly counsel. “He advised me to quit the ring before I got my brains
scrambled,” said Strange in 1970.
“Primo
Carnera had better take his fun and glory as the World’s Champion heavyweight
boxer while he can,” Strange opined prophetically while being interviewed in
October 1933. “It won’t last long.” Strange felt confident in providing such a
brazen assessment due to the fact that, at least as he told it to the Amarillo
Globe, he had boxed Carnera in 1930 while fighting under the assumed name
Jack Williams.
And so it
came to be that one future Frankenstein Monster laced up a pair of boxing
gloves to square off against another inside the squared circle. As legend has
it, anyway. And, let’s face it, when it comes to both boxing and show business,
fact and fiction are very often nearly indistinguishable.
Sources:
AP.
Carnera The Monster (Eugene Guard, January 31, 1957)
Lorin
McMullen. Frankenstein Role Handy for Da Preem (Fort Worth Star-Telegram,
February 10, 1957)
Aline
Mosby. Primo Carnera to Portray Monster on TV Tomorrow (Shamokin News-Dispatch,
February 4, 1957)
One-Time
Frankenstein is a Bad Barkeep (Burlington Daily Times-News, June 16, 1970)
Glenn
Strange profile at https://www.b-westerns.com/villain1.htm
Walter E.
Grauman Interview Part 1 of 3—accessed at
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FjHOgxr45b4
https://www.atvaudio.com/Frankenstein.php
boxrec.com
frankensteinia.blogspot.com
imdb.com





