The Karl Freund Movies Ranked

Karl Freund is one of the most important cinematographers of all time, and besides being “important,” he was responsible for some of the most beautiful views in film history. From his period in native Germany, which included Expressionist works like THE LAST LAUGH (1924) and METROPOLIS (1927), to his early American work, like DRACULA (1931) and his Oscar-winning shooting on THE GOOD EARTH (1937), to his innovation of television sitcoms shot on film with flat lighting, with I LOVE LUCY (1951–1957), Freund’s over 150 credits as cinematographer chart an incredible career that ranged overseas and 50 years from 1911 to 1961. Within that epic span of time, the cinematographer turned director, even while working in the former role in between the “helmed” projects.

While what we can see today stems from his Hollywood studio work, Freund directed 19 films in the 14 years between 1921 (part of his German period) and 1935. Until THE MUMMY in 1932, most of these seem to be early music-based shorts for the “Pocket Novelties” series in the UK (apparently from a period between his emigration from Germany to the US in 1929, although information on these films is extremely scarce). All of these were released in 1928, which came after the biggest gap between director credits and his sophomore feature THE SENSATIONAL TRIAL (1923) at five years. Including these and his directorial debut DER TOTE GAST (1921), it isn’t until THE MUMMY that any of his directed films seem to survive (or at least be accessible on the internet or home video). And even of the eight features Freund made for Hollywood studios, I’ve only been able to track down five. So this piece on the directed works of Karl Freund is certainly not complete, perhaps not even for what technically survives and has been shown at a festival or two. Still, this piece attempts to paint a picture of a segment of Freund’s career that gets less attention than his films as cinematographer, with two major exceptions I suppose.

#5 — GIFT OF GAB (1934)

Unfortunately, the picture is that, save for those two major exceptions, Freund’s career as director isn’t exactly electrifying, perhaps explaining the end of his Hollywood assignments (even as he packed eight features into three years). GIFT OF GAB is the best, or rather worst (?), example of this. Starring Edmund Lowe as a radio host who can seemingly sell anything on air, the film is Universal’s attempt at cross-media publicity, a radio showcase like Paramount’s THE BIG BROADCAST (1932) and a couple other revue-ish films barely strung together with a plot. Universal was a bit late to the party, however, and anyways the material is pretty limp. Sometimes mentioned today, if ever, for including Boris Karloff and Bela Lugosi in cameo roles, GIFT OF GAB never actually puts the two iconic horror stars on screen at the same time. More intriguing are Ethel Waters’ appearance and a bit of funny business from Sterling Holloway. But they are certainly not enough to save GIFT OF GAB.

#4 — MOONLIGHT AND PRETZELS (1933)

Just as GIFT OF GAB was an emulation of a structure Paramount pioneered, MOONLIGHT AND PRETZELS was Universal’s attempt at a Warner Bros. musical. The story is incredibly similar to the formula applied to 42ND STREET (1933), which came out five months earlier, and beyond. And while Freund was an accomplished cinematographer of all genres, in spite of his association with Expressionism and horror, the frothy lightness to which he was assigned for much of his Hollywood directorial career may have been a poor fit. To be clear, MOONLIGHT AND PRETZELS isn’t terrible. Its Busby Berkeley-lite choreography can be engaging, but it’s hard to imagine much of that could be attributed to Freund. Otherwise, the comedy and “drama” of the frame story is pretty lifeless. MOONLIGHT AND PRETZELS is perhaps all the more painful for its mediocrity, as there’s an inkling of how it could have been more.

#3 — I GIVE MY LOVE (1934)

I GIVE MY LOVE, while it doesn’t technically follow a “fallen woman” in the sexual sense, totally uses the template of the early ’30s films dealing with such a tragic figure in depicting Wynne Gibson’s young mother going to jail for the killing of her abusive husband. She swears Paul Lukas to secrecy of where she’s gone so her son doesn’t grow up with the stigma, and when she is released, a weepy tale of subterfuge ensues. I sound pretty dismissive of the story but the film isn’t terrible, with Lukas always being sympathetic and Gibson doing OK with the aged makeup and performance. Freund’s contributions visually aren’t very marked, with only a couple standout moments breaking the mold of standard coverage of dialogue in rooms. I GIVE MY LOVE is an underwhelming drama, but it’s marginally moving.

#2 — THE MUMMY (1932)

THE MUMMY was Freund’s first directed Hollywood film (and came after the biggest gap between his features at nine years after THE SENSATIONAL TRIAL) and it remains his most famous work as director, I’d imagine. Spawning a Universal franchise, the film is not unlike DRACULA (which Freund worked on as cinematographer) in that it is defined by a number of iconic images, even as most of the film is made up of people talking in finely appointed rooms. But its greatest moments do linger, most famously Karloff’s awakening as the titular creature, recalling THE CABINET OF DR. CALIGARI (1920). While Freund didn’t serve as cinematographer as well, THE MUMMY evokes his most famous works in that role, unlike the previous films on this list. The stark lighting and “spooky” vibes make the film a campy success, and like the best horror movies, it carries threads of deep commentary and emotion, best represented by the unconventional ending. THE MUMMY is a must-watch classic, and while it’s a bit weaker than the other two films of the Pre-Code “Big Three” horrors (DRACULA and FRANKENSTEIN [1931] are the others, as I see it), it demonstrates how strong Freund could be as director.

#1 — MAD LOVE (1935)

Freund’s Hollywood directorial work is bookended by two horror films and the ones that define his movies in that role. It’s rare that a director’s final film is their best, although of course Freund’s filmography as such isn’t exactly spaced across time like his service as cinematographer. But that is the case with MAD LOVE, a twisty adaptation of the novel THE HANDS OF ORLAC (1920). Peter Lorre’s first American film is mostly set in a starkly Expressionist house, a haunted clinic/residence for the deranged yet genius surgeon Dr. Gogol. This serves Freund incredibly well, as his particular instincts for light and shadow perfectly frame Lorre’s bulging eyes, bald head, and sweaty brow within these spaces. MAD LOVE’s focus on the doctor and his obsession with Frances Drake’s Yvonne steers Colin Clive’s Stephen Orlac into almost incidental territory, which is perhaps fitting for Clive’s apparent weariness as a performer. Another challenge to the film’s generally effective tone is the inclusion of Ted Healy, former leader of The Three Stooges, who understandably acts as though he is in a different movie. But in its most leering moments, MAD LOVE enters a deranged space that is, if not chilling, then disturbing in some kind of warped psychosexual way. It’s a shame that Freund’s directorial career ended here, as it heralded a returned skill, one that could treat Code-stretching material with exciting symbolism and striking imagery. But he continued as a phenomenal cinematographer for decades more, and as a swan song for Karl Freund the director, MAD LOVE is an undeniable cult classic.