1931's "The Mad Genius" was a follow up to John Barrymore's box office success "Svengali," again paired with porcelain beauty Marian Marsh, no longer the crazed mesmerist whose obsession with the woman he loves leads him to the fatal deception that Trilby loves him in return (only by hypnosis does she obey his bidding). This time, The Great Profile is again evident as embittered puppeteer Ivan Tsarakov, working in tandem with partner Karimsky (Charles Butterworth), remembering the ballerina mother who disowned her son at an early age due to his club foot yet still yearns for the career of a dancer, finding just the right lad in Fedor, whose abusive father (Boris Karloff) hasn't the ghost of a chance to catch his elusive quarry. Spiriting the youngster away to essentially live as his own offspring, Tsarakov waxes poetic about The Golem, Homunculi, and even (ironically, with Karloff having made his exit) Frankenstein, fully intent to make Fedor the greatest dancer who ever lived, provided he avoid the annoying pitfalls of falling in love. The now adult Fedor (Donald Cook) happens to have done just that with leading lady Nana Carlova (Marian Marsh), despite every attempt by Tsarakov to find other playmates to seduce his foster son. Genuine pre-Code shocks are generated by Luis Alberni's feverish role as dance instructor Sergei Bankieff, a hopeless addict forced to terminate Nana's employment rather than risk cold turkey for his affliction, only for Fedor to learn the truth and depart with her for love in Paris. Tsarakov does not give up so easily, maintaining an iron clad contract to prevent Fedor from earning steady employment, then convincing a tearful Nana to leave for Berlin with the smitten Count Renaud (Andre Luguet) to ensure Fedor's return to the fold. John Barrymore again relishes every little nuance for humor to make his reprehensible character palatable and highly entertaining, well matched with Butterworth's low key enquiries about being repeatedly fired when not trying to foist off a self penned opera that no one cares to hear. Donald Cook hasn't the charisma for his role, all wrong for a dancer and looking very silly in his final costume, but Marian Marsh proves herself a fine actress who makes every line believable; when Tsarakov phones the amorous Count with news that she intends to join him on his return to Berlin, her tears are truly heartbreaking. How intriguing that Boris Karloff and Frankenstein should be joined only a few moments apart, in and out rather quickly after 2 minutes on screen during the opening reel, cast for his eagerness by director Michael Curtiz despite not looking the least bit Russian as indicated by his last name. Barrymore's soliloquy about Fedor offering him the opportunity to create 'a being' also predates the James Whale classic, which would not begin shooting for at least two months after this picture's completion. Marian Marsh had previously worked with a deceptive Boris in the Warners classic "Five Star Final," and would be his leading lady by 1935's Columbia entry "The Black Room." Unbilled Mae Madison plays one of the chorus girls required to entice Fedor, she too had already worked with Karloff in "Smart Money," he as a pimp eager to get into the big game with Edward G. Robinson, she one of his girls who wangles $100 out of an agitated Robinson to use against him.
Review of The Mad Genius
