Tweet

Atwill was now in great demand as one of Hollywood’s most hissable villains. In Paramount’s MURDERS IN THE ZOO, he played an insane zoologist who merrily murders the suspected lovers of wife Kathleen Burke via safari-collected animals, and tosses his unfaithful spouse into a crocodile pool. With monocle, Atwill was superb as the decaying Baron von Merzbach, treating Marlene Dietrich to a horrifying wedding night in Paramount’s THE SONG OF SONGS. And in Universal’s THE SECRET OF THE BLUE ROOM, he was a most effective red herring. Of the eight ’33 releases in which he played, Atwill was lethal in almost all, and appeared to savor every wicked moment. He told “Motion Picture”: “Do you realize that the two characters of drama that have survived and made the most money for producers and actors have been Richard the Third and Hamlet? Richard, that deformed man, with his horrible attitude towards women, his lust for killing and then more killing – and Hamlet, with his pitiful diseased mind… these are the two characters that men and women have never tired of… There is something about horror that is horribly compelling. Is it because we see our possible selves in these dark mirrors?”

While shooting MURDERS IN THE ZOO, Atwill became fascinated with a 25-foot python: the script called for it to entwine itself around him, and the actor insisted the serpent actually caress him in the scene. Director Edward Sutherland couldn’t dissuade him, so Paramount recruited snake experts to stand by to unwrap Atwill as he reveled in the grisly adventure. Newspapers noted that Atwill was often present at L.A. murder trials. His idiosyncrasies bloomed in the exotic Hollywood climate.

In ’34 Atwill unabashedly informed the NY “Times”: “Frankly I’ve had my fill of art. It’s all very well in its way, but there’s an entirely different fascination to pictures that I haven’t gotten over yet. No doubt I never will. It may be a little childish, but the sheer mechanical ingenuity of the whole thing gets under my skin the way a mechanical toy fascinates a boy.”

Atwill was averaging about six releases a year when ’34 saw him at his most impressive as Anna Sten’s puritanical beau in Goldwyn-UA’s ill-fated NANA, and as Cohn Clive’s lawyer in the great courtroom scene of ONE MORE RIVER, directed for Universal by James Whale. In ’35 Atwill’s cinema misdeeds included cheating Claude Rains of his ideal, which was pacificism, as well as his wife (Joan Bennett) in Universal’s THE MAN WHO RECLAIMED HIS HEAD, and lashing Errol Flynn in WB/First National’s CAPTAIN BLOOD. But his finest performance was as the Spanish officer Pasqual, whom Dietrich enchants so he becomes a panting puppet in von Sternberg’s exotic The DEVIL IS A WOMAN, the director’s favorite among his own films as well as Dietrich’s (“because I looked more lovely in that film than in any other of my whole career”). The NY “Times” hailed Atwill “at his best as the pathetic Pasqual. His performances elicits not only the ironic laughter which Mr. von Sternberg expects you to produce towards him, but also an emotion that almost but never quite becomes sympathy.” The film opened to outstanding box-office, but unfortunately Spain felt it mocked its military and threatened to boycott all movies released by Paramount unless the film was withdrawn from world release. It was.

Through the late ’30s Atwill commuted to all the major studios, playing in films such as Columbia’s LADY OF SECRETS (with Ruth Chatterton, ’36). WB’s THE GREAT GARRICK (’37), and MGM’s THE GREAT WALTZ (’38); he also returned to England to act in Grand National – A.B.F.D.’s THE HIGH COMMAND (’37). And he continued to live in regal style on the Pacific coast, becoming a popular socialite, frequently attending parties hosted by neighbors William Randolph Hearst and Marion Davies at her famous Santa Monica beach mansion. If some of the social elite expressed concern over some of Atwill’s more publicized odd habits, the charm of his wife (whose brother. James Cromwell, became President Roosevelt’s ambassador to Canada in ’39), cancelled their concerns.

There were 9 Atwill film appearances in ’39, the first release giving the public what is perhaps his most picturesque performance: Inspector Krogh, a one-armed village constable, in Universal’s SON OF FRANKENSTEIN, third in the famous series and elegantly mounted and stylishly directed by Rowland V. Lee, with Basil Rathbone as the infamous doctor’s son, Wolf, Karloff as the Monster, and Lugosi as Ygor, a mangy, broken-necked madman. Krogh’s ambition to become a general had been destroyed as a boy when the Monster had paid a nocturnal visit to his home. “One doesn’t easily forget, Herr Baron,” he icily informs Rathbone, “an arm torn out by the roots. Easing his frustration with dramatic military gestures. Atwill’s Krogh brandishes a wooden arm. The actor’s painfully dignified bearing as he operates the unnerving prosthesis sparks the film with some fine offbeat moments. When Atwill salutes, he smacks his wooden right arm up with his left; he manages to situate his monocle between the gloved wooden “fingers” as he polishes the eyepiece; he even sticks darts into his handicap between rounds of a game. A splendid moment comes when, called away to investigate a fresh murder, Atwill hurriedly salutes a goodbye and, pre-occupied, hastens from the room with the arm still cocked.

Laureled by “Motion Picture Herald” as a “masterpiece” of production and “outstanding” in its acting, SON OF FRANKENSTEIN was the kind of chiller in which Atwill could flaunt to perfection his flair for the bizarre. He would enthusiastically participate in every ensuing entry of Universal’s FRANKENSTEIN series, save for the Monster’s ’48 rendezvous with Abbott and Costello, (Kenneth Mars did a take-off on Atwill’s Krogh in Mel Brooks’ ’74 YOUNG FRANKENSTEIN.)

Atwill’s popularity with producers is evident in some of his other ’39 releases. He tried to conquer the world in Universal’s THE SUN NEVER SETS, added to the mystery of THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES for Fox (where he had signed a non-exclusive player contract), supported Ilona Massey and Nelson Eddy in the MGM musical BALALAIKA, and starred in Warner Bros. THE MAD EMPRESS, a pint-sized version of that studio’s JUAREZ.

While ’40 saw Atwill as Hedy Lamarr’s keeper in MGM’s Gable-Colbert-Tracy BOOM TOWN, and romping through a couple of Charlie Chan entries at Fox, his most interesting assignment was in the Fox “B”, THE GREAT PROFILE. John Barrymore was the star, and both actors liberally hammed to meet the tone of this travesty.

Atwill starred in early ’41 as mad Dr. Rigas in Universal’s MAN MADE MONSTER, mirthfully transforming Lon Chaney Jr. into an electrical freak. It was his only release that year, as personal problems kept him off screen. In April of ’41, his son John was reported killed in action with the R.A.F. Atwill was hard hit by the tragedy. Immediately after, a scurrilous expose of Atwill’s private life erupted, critically paralyzing his career.

“All women love the men they fear,” Atwill had told “Motion Picture.” “All women kiss the hand that rules them… I do not treat women in such soft fashion. Women are cat creatures. Their preference is for a soft fireside cushion, for delicate bowls of cream, for perfumed leisure and for a master – which is where and how they belong.” In April of ’39, Louise Atwill had separated from her “master.” Lamenting her spouse’s “surly character,” she returned to Wash. DC, and in her absence, Atwill became the host of notoriously lewd parties.

Early in ’41 two women, a Cuban dress designer and a 16-year-old unwed expectant mother, were before the L.A. grand jury in a particularly sleazy rape trial. Part of their testimony told of a ’40 Christmas holiday orgy they attended at the Pacific Palisades home of a famous Hollywood actor, who after showing obscene movies, led his guests in stripping and re-enacting the pornography on a tigerskin rug while Viennese waltzes were played on the piano. Such flamboyant debauchery delighted the press, clamoring to learn who the unnamed host was. In a heated moment in open court, a lawyer blurted out the profligate’s name Lionel Atwill. The press was ecstatic. Atwill was in the East but returned to swear before the grand jury. “We just discussed a book, or a play or something. We had a few drinks, but there were no lewd pictures shown.” The jury weighed Atwill’s polished demeanor against that of the females, and decided that the evening was just “an innocent party,” issuing no indictments. Outraged by the decision and Atwill’s accusations that extortion was behind the trial, the prosecutors remained convinced that he was lying. Unfortunately he was.

Meanwhile, Atwill resumed his career, playing in eight films and one serial released in ’42. Meaty assignments included Universal’s THE GHOST OF FRANKENSTEIN; as bitter Dr. Bohmer, he transplanted the warped brain of Ygor (Lugosi) into the warped body of the Monster (Chaney Jr.) Also at Universal, where he enjoyed a non-exclusive contract, Atwill was a splendid Moriarty in SHERLOCK HOLMES AND THE SECRET WEAPON. He also supported Carole Lombard and Jack Benny in UA’s TO BE OR NOT TO BE; scared Abbott and Costello in Universal’s PARDON MY SARONG and sparked MGM’s Jeanette MacDonald musical spoof CAIRO.

In June, ’42, the grand jury indicted Atwill on the grounds of perjury in connection with his ’41 testimony regarding the famous party. He pleaded innocent and was released on $1,000 bail. Then, the following August, the jury charged him with perjuring himself in June! The evidence against Atwill was overwhelming, so the actor’s attorney, former Judge Isaac Pacht, made an agreement with Deputy District Attorney Arthur Veitch, who agreed to absolve Atwill of the “sex orgies” charges, provided Atwill admitted his perjury and confess to the lewd movies. Atwill appeared before Judge William R. McKay, admitted exhibiting the pornographic films THE DAISY CHAIN and THE PLUMBER AND THE GIRL and defended his perjury: “I lied like a gentleman to protect friends.” Judge McKay was not impressed by such loyalty and sentenced Atwill to five years probation on Oct. 15, ’42.

Continue to page: 1 2 3 4