In yesterday’s countdown someone commented that my choices made no sense to them; that they couldn’t figure out what my nomenclature was. Curious to see if that was a real word, I looked it up and not only discovered that it was but that the commenter made a good point. First off, this isn’t a “scariest movie” ranking. If that were the case, my top three would be “Exorcist,” “Last House on the Left,” and “Henry: Portrait of a Serial Killer” – and “Abbott and Costello Meet Frankenstein” would never be heard from again (which is too tragic to dwell on). If anything drives these choices it’s the intensity of personal affection I have for each of them, especially with regard to how they help to capture what I believe Halloween is all about. So if there’s a nomenclature at work here it’s that as we climb the list we also climb that particular film’s power to create an emotional experience, and that experience need not be fear.  Which brings me to today’s choice(s).

Officially, it was in 1923 that Universal Studios jumped into the horror genre with Lon Chaney’s unforgettable turn as “The Hunchback of Notre Dame,” a beautifully filmed and brilliantly performed silent that would immediately be followed by the even more impressive “The Phantom of the Opera.” It wasn’t until 1931, though, that the true monster movie would be born with the landmark one-two punch of “Frankenstein” and “Dracula.” From here everything would change, Universal would never look back, and for the next quarter century audiences would be treated to more iconic monsters — and even better — an atmosphere, mood, and feel like no other cinematic era has produced before or since.

Whether you’re talking about the best known of the monster movies that came out of this particular studio era or one of their lesser known and sometimes cheesier sequels, there is no movie-watching experience quite like spending 80 minutes roaming around the black and white insides of a Universal horror film. The architecture, lighting, shadows, performance style, sound, score and tone are always so precisely perfect that over the course of the six films listed below and the 20 or so sequels they helped to spawn, you are effectively entering a singular macabre universe that becomes more and more exhilarating (and addicting) to explore as you become more and more familiar with it.

Those of you who believe I should pick only one, ask too much…  

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Dracula (1931) – Would it be too much to call The Mighty Bela Lugosi’s performance as the Count the most iconic in all of cinema history? Director Tod Browning’s interpretation of Bram Stoker’s novel might also be the most influential movie of all time. 80 years on the template this classic laid down for the vampire legend is obvious in almost every single vampire film since, and these days there are a lot of them.

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Frankenstein (1931) – If Lugosi has competition for most the iconic performance, this would be it, and what a tribute to The Mighty Boris Karloff that while he would always be closely identified with the role of the Frankenstein monster, he was still able to enjoy a robust career for decades to come. Many appreciate director James Whale’s splendidly subversive sequel, “The Bride of Frankenstein,” even more, but I prefer the more straight-forward original. The scene where the Monster is brought to life using all those crazy gizmos fueled by giant fuses and finally lightning, never fails to turn me back into a ten year-old. This also wins my vote for the classic film I’d most like to experience on the big screen.

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The Mummy (1932) – Karloff again and this time as the legendary Imhotep, an Egyptian prince buried alive for sacrilege and brought back to life by an ancient scroll. Easily the most atmospheric and creepily disturbing of this particular collection, thanks mainly to Karloff who does more with a look than most movies do with access to all the special effects money can buy. Haunting and quietly menacing, the Mummy not only walks, it deals in some surprisingly large and complicated themes.

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The Invisible Man (1933) – Decades later the special effects still dazzle almost as much as The Mighty Claude Rains, who does nothing less than act his ass off in this sometimes tragic, sometimes funny story of a scientist who goes slowly insane after discovering the power of invisibility. Only the great James Whale could’ve successfully dabbled in all the various emotional tones and brought them together so well.

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The Wolf Man (1941) – If I were ever in a position to program a classic film festival it would be with creating an appreciation for two criminally under-appreciated actors in mind: Dana Andrews and Lon Chaney Jr. Both brought depths of melancholy and emotion to their roles unlike any one else and both could rip out your heart with the smallest of gestures. As the cursed Lawrence Talbot dreading the full moon, Chaney’s ability to summon the tragedy of it all without saying a word touches my heart just thinking about it. This is the great man’s awards page on IMDB. Unforgivable.

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The Creature From the Black Lagoon (1954) – Most of the story takes place on a boat and in a single location, but what a location. A gorgeously designed lagoon filled with more mystery and foreboding than you can even begin to take in at times. The creature itself is a marvel and the underwater black and photography looks even more beautiful with each passing year as CGI continues to rob us of the organic. Whenever this screened on Saturday night’s Shock Theatre, it was Julie Adams in that white one-piece bathing suit that soaked up most of my elementary school conversation the following Monday. Yowza.

And there you have it, an extraordinary gathering of some of the greatest actors of all time, giants who we will never see the likes of again. Decades after their passing, the names Karloff, Lugosi, and Chaney still make grown men smile and somehow loom even larger as the shadow they cast grows right along with their legend. And this is so because beneath all that marvelous make up and dark wardrobe and through the perfectly crafted shadows and fog-soaked architecture something always made its way though that no amount of CGI can recreate; an actor’s gift of unspoken humanity infused in their immortal creatures, creatures who will forever fire our imaginations and fuel our favorite nightmares.

It’s a truism among fans of classic movies that 1939 was the Hollywood cinema’s greatest year. But if it has become something of a cliche to say so, it’s only because it’s so undeniably true.

It’s really rather amazing to consider how many classic or transcendentally classic films were released during that annus mirabilis. Among the most highly praised then and in the ensuring years were the following:

• Gone with the Wind
• The Wizard of Oz
• Stagecoach
• Beau Geste
• Goodbye, Mr. Chips
• Gunga Din
• The Women
• Wuthering Heights
• The Roaring Twenties
• Love Affair

Those would be enough for a great year in itself, but there was so much more–such as Ninotchka, Only Angels Have Wings, Drums Along the Mohawk, Mr. Smith Goes to Washington, The Hunchback of Notre Dame, Allegheny Uprising, The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes, The Hound of the Baskervilles, Stanley and Livingston, The Man in the Iron Mask, Dark Victory, Of Mice and Men,Young Mr. Lincoln, The Rains Came, Midnight, The Private Lives of Elizabeth and Essex, Union Pacific, Babes in Arms, The Little Princess, Another Thin Man, The Story of Vernon and Irene Castle, The Hardys Ride High, Golden Boy, Dodge City, Gulliver’s Travels, The Light That Failed, The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn, The Old Maid, Son of Frankenstein, Destry Rides Again, and many, many others of like quality.

And from overseas: The Rules of the Game, The Four Feathers, The Stars Look Down, The Story of the Last Chrysanthemums, and others.

And perhaps even more impressive is the high quality of even the year’s lower-budget films, such as Code of the Secret Service and Secret Service of the Air, both starring Ronald Reagan. What all the Hollywood films mentioned here shared was the industry’s ability at the time to alternate scenes of grandeur and intimacy with consummate skill and confidence.

The Hollywood movie factories had been perfected by the mid-1930s, and the studios were amazingly adept at turning out greatly entertaining movies that reflected and reinforced the values of their audience. Although the stars and other filmmaking principals were paid amazing sums of money then as they are now, the industry did not then reflect the elitism now rampant in Hollywood.

The studio moguls, who were largely self-made and from humble origins, enthusiastically accepted the nation’s founding values and made sure that their product reflected those notions.They did so both for patriotic reasons and because they knew that was the best way for them to make money.

Thus while MGM head Louis B. Mayer was a staunch Republican and the Warner Bros. were supporters of FDR, all shared a strong patriotic love for their nation and shared their audience’s values.

Also important was the more conservative social values that arose during the Depression 1930s after the social excesses of the Roaring Twenties. Audiences preferred movies to reflect values such as personal responsibility, long-term thinking, the value of hard work, personal sacrifice for the good of others, modesty, and the like. Hollywood was voluntarily under the authority of the Production Code, which set moral standards for the industry and protected the studios from a race to the moral bottom and an unbridled pursuit of sensationalism.

The Production Code was clearly not a straitjacket on creativity, given the impressive films made while it was in place during the 1930s through the 1950s. Contrary to the claims of many critics (and the Wikipedia entry cited here), the Production Code Administration was willing and in fact eager to work with producers to ensure that films could be as creative as possible without undermining the nation’s morals.

Refraining from undermining people’s morals may seem rather a quaint notion to many people today, but it indicates a sense of honor, decency, and humility that is sorely lacking among all to many purveyors of cultural products today.

Of course, there’s no sense in hoping for a return of the Production Code, but a greater sense of responsibility on filmmakers’ part would certainly be welcome. It would benefit the movies both morally and esthetically.