"1934"

With Halloween approaching, we’re saluting one of the great horror movie icons, Boris Karloff, originator of the Frankenstein monster. Reminding us again of how far removed the illusion of movies can be from reality, Karloff the man was the total opposite of the characters he immortalized on screen.

While the name recognition of female star Claudette Colbert has not held up to the same degree as her contemporary Bette Davis, she was just as talented, and at her peak in the ‘30s, almost as big a star.

From the outset, Bogie seemed an unlikely candidate for success. He was thrown out of most schools he attended for bad grades, bad behavior, or both. He fell into acting, a disreputable profession for the upper classes in those days, because he had few other options.

Clark Gable inhabited masculinity so purely and originally from the 1930s on that he came to represent the quintessential leading man, earning himself the title “King of Hollywood.” Even today, stars don’t come any bigger than Gable. But what made this awkward former tire factory worker into the dynamic presence that appealed to both men and women?

She was born Ruth Elizabeth Davis in Lowell, Massachusetts in 1908, and was, by her own admission, a Yankee.

In a variety of interesting ways, mustaches make the man in movies. At the dawn of film, it was usually the villain wearing the ‘stache. In silents and old-time serials, they would twirl them to signify a dastardly deed was being contemplated. These “types” would go on to inspire the indelible character of Snidely Whiplash in the “Dudley Do-Right” segment on “The Rocky and Bullwinkle Show.” I loved that guy. In the realm of silent comedy, the sight of well-placed follicles on the kisser also could elicit laughter from audiences, as evidenced by Charlie Chaplin, Ben Turpin, Andy Clyde, Oliver Hardy and others.

Lauren Bacall will be remembered as a larger than life Hollywood figure, but film lovers might be surprised to learn that she appeared in less than 50 features. In a business where one dreads being forgotten, Bacall took her time when it came to taking roles, confident that the public would still be there when she returned. During her heyday, Bacall rarely worked more than once a year. Later, she was known to take long breaks in between projects, something few actresses did in those days. The result is a filmography that is more tastefully cultivated than most, with very few bombs or stinkers. Even a movie like “The Fan” (1981), a gaudy thriller which some felt was beneath her, has endured as a kind of cult object. When that one wrapped, Bacall did another of her disappearing acts, this time for seven years. Of course, the dismantling of the old studio system may have had something to do with her dwindling appearances; she always preferred that more orderly way of making pictures.

It seems Peter Lorre was born to be sinister. Though small in stature (just under 5'4"), his oversized, sleepy eyes seemed to pierce right into your soul. His soft, eerie voice, though imitated countless times by comedians, never failed to chill. Lorre sometimes belittled his own talent, describing himself as "a face maker." But what a face! Lorre's creepy presence was surprisingly flexible, allowing him to appear in everything from horror films, to comedies, to film noir.

A blonde bombshell before Marilyn? You bet. Her name was Jean Harlow, and in my estimation, she appeared in more great pictures than Monroe, while spending even less time on the planet.