It surely is a cosmic snicker that Henry Pratt supported himself as a piano mover while appearing in the French version of a Laurel & Hardy film! (Pardon Us.) Perhaps Henry, or Boris Karloff as he began calling himself, gave the boys some tips on the fine art of cajoling a balky music box up a few flights of stairs. We'll never know for sure, but that helpful, neighborly, attitude was always with him, even at his most darkly sinister or bizarre. Monster, mummy, mandarin, or daffy doctor, Karloff always seemed truly puzzled and not a little grieved at the mayhem and horror that swirled around him in every film. In Boogie Man he is simply trying to support the War effort with a little harmless electricity. His slight lisp, and polite British accent, gave his utterances a benign tone. Even his evil grimace (and only Lugosi could match those melodramatic facial convulsions) somehow seem less menacing than mildly complaining, as if he were telling you about a pesky toothache. In this film he's playing for laughs, of course, but even in his starkest horror roles you can sense just a touch of amusement at himself as he chews up the scenery (or a victim.) One feels that if he were still around to spread his arms in menace at us, he might pause & sniff, just to make sure his deodorant was still working. A thoughtful murderer -- that was Boris Karloff.
Review of The Boogie Man Will Get You
