The Human Monster (1939, aka The Dark Eyes of London) is an exploration of how unmitigated human greed leads to disaster. Dr. Orloff is an insurance broker, who has lost several clients of late. They’re found floating in the Thames, much to the benefit of a local charity. Client Henry Stuart is having financial problems, and, in return for a loan, he makes Dr. Orloff the beneficiary of his life insurance policy. It’s only after he’s signed it that he reveals that he has a daughter.
This upsets Dr. Orloff. Why? You know why. Relatives complicate a simple matter of murder. Still, Orloff lures Stuart to the stalking grounds of his favorite minion, the blind man Jake, one of many blind men inhabiting the Dearborn Home for the Destitute Blind, because Orloff’s already invested a good sum of money in Stuart, and soon Stuart is done in, becoming another corpse in the river.
His murder is investigated by a Scotland Yard detective whose name has slipped my mind, assisted by a Chicago visiting policeman by the name of O’Reilly, and the Scotland Yard detective is really quite clever, noting that the water in the lungs of Stuart does not match the generally polluted mess that is the Thames. I actually remarked that it felt a bit like the old CSI series. Soon enough, the daughter emerges, and, angered at her father’s death, is used by the detective to gather information at the Home.
Eventually, after a twist and turn or two, Orloff has killed another blind man, Dumb Lou, who had worked closely with Orloff and Jake the killer, and when Jake realizes that he and the other blind men are merely being used by Orloff to increase his wealth, it’s Orloff’s turn to meet the murderous rage that he had so often employed in pursuit of mere money, all while Stuart’s daughter, shockingly ineffectual as she’s tied up by Orloff (my Arts Editor was yelling Kick him in the nuts!), must look helplessly on. Too bad about the daughter, up ’til then she’d been charmingly forward and brave.
The surprising complexities and bits of humor of the story are unfortunately obscured by the poor quality of this print, and a slower pace may have benefited the presentation. Still, it was a pleasant way to spend an hour and a half, fingers full of popcorn, eyes glinting with bodies. Enjoy, especially if you’re a Bela Lugosi fan.
