[7.7/10] I’m not knowledgeable enough to know whether *Arsenic and Old Lace* is the first true horror comedy, but if not, it has to be one of the earliest great examples of the form. The screwball elements are outstanding, with a rapid-fire sort of comic energy that makes things feel enjoyably ridiculous from the minute Mortimer Brewster arrives at his aunts’ family home. But there’s also parts of it that are legitimately scary and macabre, which lend themselves as much to mood as they do any actual horror.

Cary Grant holds the center of the film, as a manic, whirling dervish of a main character. In a strange way, Grant’s performance here feels like a precursor to the turn from a young Michael Keaton in fellow horror-comedy *Beetlejuice*, with tons of nervous energy and a cartoonish like exuberance at all things. Grant nearly jumps off the celluloid here, doling out double-takes like it’s elderberry wine, running around and tripping over furniture, and diving into scenes and conversation to try to keep this den of insane cats from scrambling too far away.

But the real comic treat of the film are his two aunts, Abby (Josephine Hull) and Martha (Jean Adair). There’s an undercurrent of comic irony that runs throughout the film, where these two kindly old ladies, who are themselves aghast at the thought of scary movies, ill-manners, and all manner of upsetting things, have no compunction about poisoning the lonely old men who pass through their home and having twelve of them buried in their basement. The contrast between their stately, warm and motherly demeanor, and their obliviousness to the gravity and morality of their deeds makes for the film’s biggest laughs.

They’re not the only fun characters in the film’s comic milieu though. On my first watch, Teddy (“John Alexander”) was my favorite part. The way he imagines himself as Teddy Roosevelt (replete with him yelling “chaaaaaaaaarge!” as he runs up the stairs), and everyone’s playful humoring his delusion, makes for another dose of entertaining ridiculousness that lasts throughout the picture, and gives the film another loony figure to mix and match with the other wacky visitors and antagonists who darken the Brewsters’ doorstep.

That’s where the horror elements come in. In a bit of a contrived twist, Mortimer’s long lost brother, Johnny (Raymond Massey), returns to his childhood home for....reasons unknown. Still, he comes along with twelve murders under his belt, one dead body to get rid of, a menacing and surgery-ravaged face, and most of all, his squirrely second, Dr. Einstein (the inimitable Peter Lorre). There’s a terrifying element to Johnny, even amid the silliness around him, that adds just a touch of scariness to what is otherwise a light and ridiculous film.

Much of that menace comes from the use of light and shadow and the cinematography of the film. Most of the action of the film takes place in one locale, but cinematographer Sal Polito changes the feeling of a particular scene by how he and his team frame the proceedings. Sometimes, that just means shutting of all the lights in the house and following the action as silhouetted figures skulk around the floorboards. Sometimes it means letting Johnny’s shadow loom large on the far wall as he makes demands of a comparatively shrinking Dr. Einstein, or the shadow of a pair of forceps break across a tied-up Mortimer’s face. And sometimes it just means letting the perspective dart back and forth amid the uptempo wackiness to try to keep up with all that’s happening.

The same goes for the production design, which takes a film that is, self-evidently, adapted from a stage play, and used the Brewster family homestead as a tremendous sounding board for so much insane and macabre activity. The way the house itself feels full of nooks and crannies, rooms and other tucked away places we have a sense of even if we barely get to see them, speaks to the lived-in feel of the place and the suggestion of action that helps fill in the gaps.

There’s also a strange dose of meta-humor to the film, which feels oddly comforting to a present day viewer, more used to a post-modern take on this sort of material. Mortimer recounts the dopey behavior of a character in a play he saw, only to be inveigled by the bad guy while pantomiming the same behavior. A local cop continually regales Mortimer with details from the play he’s writing, only to have themes or ideas filter their way into the real world. And at times, the characters come close to breaking the fourth wall, almost making eye contact with the audience as if to say, “can you believe it?”

The only downside to all of this is that, in places, *Arsenic and Old Lace* feels overstretched. It introduces so many plots and subplots -- Mortimer getting married, the aunts’ murder plot, the return of Johnny, getting Teddy committed, the local cop’s playwriting, and the lieutenant wondering what the hell’s going on -- that sometimes none of them has time to breathe. When the film jumps from one to another, it can have a nicely frenetic quality, but in others, it can leave your head spinning, or in the case of the last fifteen minutes or so, feel like the movie is stretching when the major action is already over.

If there’s a theme to what can mostly be called a big bundle of comic energy of a movie, it’s the idea that we judge by image and expectation more than action and reality. The kindly aunts can get away with murdering a dozen lonely old men (and granted, they think of it as a mercy), and nobody bothers to suspect them or that anything’s amiss because they are, well, kindly old ladies. Meanwhile, the Frankenstein’s monster-looking Johnny gets derision and suspicion wherever he goes because of his appearance. It’s not the most pointed satire in the world, but it’s an irony deep in the DNA of the film that makes it richer in hindsight.

Still, what makes *Arsenic and Old Lace* so enjoyable at the end of the day isn’t that irory; it’s the surfeit of farce and the nicely balanced horror that mixes and matches the Halloween-y and the absurd. There’s a winking looniness through the film, one that pairs up its chills and kills with chuckles and guffaws. Maybe *Arsenic and Old Lace* isn’t the first horror comedy, but it’s a great one wherever it falls in the timeline.

Frank Capra directs this classic film starring Cary Grant and other actors I don’t recognize. While it’s considered a thriller, the central focus is dark comedy. The acting is good, the filming technicals are fine, and humor holds the test of time. My issue is the second half of the film drags, and some humor felt a bit too goofy, slapstick, and chaotic. Grant is typically known for his tough-guy persona and action roles, but I saw him in a new light here. I don’t think I’m ever going to watch another film with Grant and not think of his role here. He acts well with his exaggerated facial expressions and frenetic behavior. I also saw a new side of Frank Capra, who is known for his drama and romantic films.

The basic premise is that the main character, Mortimer, played by Grant, falls in love and marries a girl, who is the daughter of a priest, named Elaine. He brings her home and learns his two aunts are serial killers. The dark comedy is based on Mortimer keeping that fact hidden from the police to keep his mad aunts out of jail. Several other stories wind together into the plot, such as the crazy uncle who thinks he is President Teddy Roosevelt and runs up the stairs yelling “CHARGE!” after blasting a trumpet each time he leaves a scene. The aunts are cheerful as they point out where the dead bodies are between cooking apple pies. Mortimer’s brother also returns after escaping from the mental hospital. Most of the film takes place in a single sitting room, and it feels like a sanitarium filled with nuts!

Would I recommend this? I found it funny, but it wasn’t exactly my cup of tea. I didn’t quite get this film, which has so many characters, each with stories difficult to keep up with. It was by design. ‘Arsenic..’ combines horror with comedy, both genres I don’t watch often

**An extraordinary comedy that stands out for its unpretentiousness.**

I didn't have high expectations when I decided to watch this film, and I think this increased the impact it ended up having even more: based on a successful play, the film is an extraordinary comedy full of bizarreness and mischief, without a single dead moment and full of twists and turns that make us laugh and amuse us.

The script begins with the sudden marriage of Mortimer Brewster, a famous theater critic known for being a bachelor. When preparing his bags for his honeymoon trip, the young man discovers that the two elderly aunts he has been living with are two remorseless killers, who believe they are doing enormous good by speeding up the deaths of lonely men. and sad people who will knock on their door to rent a room and sleep. Furthermore, their brother, who lives in that house, firmly believes that he is President Theodore Roosevelt and is digging the Panama Canal in the basement. And as if the madness wasn't enough, Mortimer has a crazy, murderous brother. The dialogues and situations are memorable, and the humor is contagious.

I can understand why Cary Grant didn't like the work he did in this film: he really exaggerates his performance, he's histrionic, he spends almost half the film hysterical. However, this is funny and the character, and the script, asked the character to be this way. The actor, despite himself, knew how to understand what the character was asking of him and act accordingly. Veterans Jean Adair and Josephine Hull don't disappoint, offering us a truly brilliant interpretation, and the same can be said of Raymond Massey. The film also features the participation and worthy efforts of Peter Lorre and John Alexander.

On a technical level, the film is reasonably discreet and focuses on effectiveness. The setting – the house where everything happens – is the most striking element that catches our attention. Apparently, it was made entirely in the studios, and it was a colossal, huge set. The costumes are also good, and the cinematography is quite pleasant and well executed.

There are thirteen bodies in the cellar! Oh, piffle.

Plot in a nutshell: Drama critic Mortimer Brewster has just gotten married. But his newfound wedded bliss is interrupted by the disturbing discovery that his sweet old spinster aunts have been murdering lonely old men with their homemade elderberry wine, and burying the bodies in the cellar.

Comments: This demented screwball comedy was the film that introduced me to Cary Grant. The utterly black comedic treatment never gets old, and the laughs never let up. Every time he gets another surprise, Grant puts on a slightly different flustered expression.

Peter Lorre and Raymond Massey, as the villains of the piece, are very amusingly sinister, and the spinster aunts Brewster are utterly charming, in spite of their, uh, somewhat morbid hobby.

A hilariously insane romp from the brilliant director of some of America's greatest films, Frank Capra. Do yourself a favor and watch it already! Prepare to laugh nonstop.

"Insanity runs in my family. It practically gallops!" ~Mortimer Brewster (Cary Grant)

Frenetic roller-coaster ride - Capra style!

The Broadway show this film is based on ran for something like four years, such was the yearning for riotous rompathons in the 40s, and thus here the Capra adaptation is pretty much non stop mania. Led by the perfectly cast Cary Grant, the film barely pauses for breath, stopping only briefly to put a bit of creepy menace into the otherwise insane plot. Oh yes the plot, the elderly Brewster sisters are the dear hearts of the neighbourhood, but what folk don't realise is that they are poisoning elderly male visitors to their home to save them from being lonely! This sets us up for romps as nephew Mortimer (Grant) lurches from one incredulous scene to another upon finding out about his dear Aunt's penchant for murder.

Peter Lorre & Raymond Massey add to the madness upon visiting the house, whilst John Alexander almost steals the film as the barmy uncle who thinks he is Theodore Roosevelt! But it's Grant's show all the way, rarely will you see an actor express so many faces of incredulity with such mirthful results as what Grant gives us here. A joyous performance from the great man. Directed with all the sharpness and knowing of tones we expect from Frank Capra, the film is an out and out joy. So be sure to wear a corset to stop your sides from splitting. 9/10