The Ghost Walks (Frank R. Strayer, 1934)

Frank R. Strayer is not much of a visual stylist, which can be a real drag when he's matched with a dull screenplay and low-energy cast (The Monster Walks) but is easily overlooked when he has a weird, vibrant story and great actors (The Vampire Bat). The Ghost Walks is somewhere in between. It's pretty creaky and feels like a relic from the earliest months of sound film, but it benefits from a great setting and a cast full of goofball character actors who sell the film's comedic moments with plenty of solid one-liners and non-sequiturs. The Ghost Walks is far from a great movie, but it's fun. 

A brief aside: Strayer's The Monster Walks has no monster and The Ghost Walks has no ghost. You're a madman, Strayer.

The Ghost Walks begins with a trio of New Yorkers, playwright Prescott Ames (John Miljan), Broadway producer Herman Wood (Richard Carle), and Wood's frequently fired and rehired assistant Homer Erskine (Johnny Arthur) driving to a weekend getaway upstate for a reading of Ames' newest play. Of course, it's a dark and stormy night, and the travelers are stranded when their car gets stuck in the mud and a fallen tree blocks the road. Of course, they seek refuge in a sprawling country house full of weirdos. Surprisingly, Ames knows these weirdos and is reluctant to enter.

It's a bit of a complicated tangle, but occupying the house are a psychologist, a mad woman who is his patient, the mad woman's brother, a family friend who is dating Prescott but being endlessly and openly pursued by the mad woman's brother, and several servants. The stranded travelers have arrived on the anniversary of the mad woman's husband's unsolved murder, an event that led to her madness, and strange paranormal events happen over the course of an elaborate dinner.

(SPOILER): The occupants of the house are actors, hired by Prescott, and the events being passed off as reality are his new play. The country house is Prescott's, newly purchased on the cheap because it was the site of a real murder. Herman and Homer find out they're the victims of an elaborate ruse, decades before Ashton Kutcher's Punk'd, after the first act, but soon, the actors really begin disappearing from the house, and reports of an escaped maniac trickle in. Herman and Homer still think they're watching a play, but shit just got real.

Things proceed in an entertaining but predictable fashion and wrap up nicely in an erotic 69 minutes, with Carle's and Arthur's performances carrying most of the movie. The Broadway producer is a bemused curmudgeon with a blustering facade and cowardly heart and his assistant, Homer, is a nerdy, effete, clever, and strange little man who is fond of delivering bizarre asides about his family members. The two men have a great comedic rapport and share many funny scenes, including one where they share a bed. If it weren't for them, the movie would have dragged.

Alright, that's my mild recommendation. I didn't have much to say this week, but my job's been working me like a dog, so my reserves of pizzazz are scarce. Until next time, stay scary, my friends.