The Unholy Three (1925)

Director:

Tod Browning

Writers:

Clarence Aaron 'Tod' Robbins (novel)
Waldemar Young (scenario)

Release Date:

16 August 1925 (USA)

Genre:

Crime | Drama | Romance

Plot:

Three sideshow performers leave their lives of captivity and become "The Unholy Three." Echo the ventriloquist...

Plot Keywords:

Ventriloquist | Sideshow | Bird | Scam | Macabre

Cast

Lon Chaney	...	Professor Echo - The Ventriloquist / Mrs. 'Granny' O'Grady
Mae Busch	...	Rosie O'Grady
Matt Moore	...	Hector MacDonald
Victor McLaglen	...	Hercules, the strongman
Harry Earles	...	Tweedledee, the dwarf, aka Little Willie
Matthew Betz	...	Detective Regan
Edward Connelly	...	The judge
William Humphrey	...	Defense attorney (as William Humphreys)
E. Alyn Warren	...	Prosecuting attorney (as A.E. Warren)

Runtime:

86 min (alternate version)

Country:

USA

Language:

English

Color:

Black and White | Color (tinted)

Aspect Ratio:

1.33 : 1

Sound Mix:

Silent

Certification:

USA:Passed (National Board of Review)

Company:

Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer (MGM)

Trivia:

During the scene where Echo and company are fleeing the pet store, Echo decides to take his pet ape with them. The "Ape" was actually a three-foot-tall chimp who was made to appear gigantic with camera trickery, and perspective shots. When Echo removes the ape from his cage, the shot shows Echo (with his back turned to the camera) unlocking the cage and walking the ape to the truck. The ape appears to be roughly the same size as Echo. This effect was achieved by having dwarf actor Harry Earles (who played "Tweedledee" in the film) play Echo for these brief shots, and then cutting to the normal sized Lon Chaney, making it seems as though the Ape is gigantic.

Goofs:

Revealing mistakes: Toward the end of the film, while Echo (Lon Chaney) and Rosie (Mae Busch) are having their conversation in the wooded area outside the cabin, both characters are clearly casting shadows on the scenery behind them, revealing that the 'woods' are actually a painting on a canvas backdrop.

Quotes:

Professor Echo, the ventriloquist, aka Mrs. 'Granny' O'Grady: Get rid of him! We're gonna pull that Arlington job tonight.
Rosie O'Grady: Oh, I'm mad at Granny! She won't stay in bed!
Hector MacDonald: Perhaps she wants to help us trim the tree.
Rosie O'Grady: Yes, she'd love to do some trimming.

Movie Connections:

Referenced in The Devil's Rejects (2005)

Crazy plot? Credibility problems? Sure, but somehow it works!

When I was a kid in the '60s I was an avid reader of Forrest J. Ackerman's Famous Monsters of Filmland magazine, and it was there I first learned a lot about the director Tod Browning. He and his work were frequently featured in the pages of FM, where the (still missing) "London After Midnight" was often lamented as the Holy Grail of lost films. There were also frequent references to "The Unholy Three," in both its silent and talkie incarnations. It took me decades to finally catch up with the silent version, and my response is kind of schizo: objectively, I recognize that in a number of respects it's a ridiculous movie, and yet I enjoyed it enormously. It's a guilty pleasure, like Bar-B-Q flavored potato chips: something you know you shouldn't enjoy, but you do anyway. And the primary reason for liking this movie is the sheer star power of Lon Chaney.

Chaney and Browning worked together many times, but this was their biggest box office success. Despite the impression that's grown over the years their works together were not horror films. In fact, as far as I can determine none of their movies featured any supernatural elements at all; even the vampire of "London After Midnight" is a police inspector in disguise. Several of the Browning/Chaney films are crime melodramas with bizarre details stirred into the mix, often involving people from the lowest rungs of show business, such as circuses and carnivals. Chaney's characters in these stories are often afflicted with an intense, unrequited passion for a young woman (most notably in "The Unknown"), and his behavior and actions are affected by this obsession, usually to his disadvantage, sometimes fatally so.

By the time "The Unholy Three" was made Browning had developed his recurring themes and motifs into a time-tested formula, and yet it feels startlingly original and fresh. His directorial technique is stylish in a low-key, unobtrusive way: he'll use a device such as shadows thrown on a wall forming a silhouette of the three title characters, but generally avoids flamboyant touches. With a story like this, he doesn't need them. The synopsis has been outlined elsewhere, but stated simply it involves a trio of crooks from the sideshow world: Professor Echo the ventriloquist (Chaney) who disguises himself as an old lady, a strong man (Victor MacLaglen), and a midget (Harry Earles) who masquerades as a baby. A pet store serves as a front for their activities. The trio is actually is quintet, as they are accompanied by a thief named Rosie (Mae Busch) and a bespectacled patsy named Hector (Matt Moore) who is somehow oblivious that his employers are, well, not what they seem. And if Hector doesn't find it odd that the pet shop where he works offers not only birds and rabbits but also a dangerous gorilla in a big cage, hey, why should we? The plot turns on a jewel heist gone wrong, in part because of Prof. Echo's jealousy over Rosie, but the story feels secondary to the sinister, creepy atmospherics.

While it's Chaney's performance that drives the film the other actors are perfectly cast-- more so than in the talkie remake --and the characters' interactions have a "rightness" that persuades us to overlook some huge credibility issues. As in the best Hitchcock films, we're willing to ignore gaping plot holes in order to get to the highlights. One of the most memorable sequences is one in which a police inspector interrogates the trio in the wake of the jewel heist, unaware that the jewels he seeks are inside a toy elephant at his feet, a toy that supposedly belongs to the "baby." The scene is suspenseful and funny, and, I must add, the sight of Harry Earles disguised as a baby is almost as creepy as anything from an out-and-out horror film.

The absurdities mount in the final scenes, and yet when the movie's over we savor the experience. It's no surprise this film was such a big hit in its day. I was lucky enough to see a recently restored print of "The Unholy Three" at the Museum of Modern Art this summer, and although there was occasional laughter at moments that may not have been intentionally funny (especially when a title card glibly informs us of the outcome of Prof. Echo's trial), afterward in the lobby most viewers seemed quite enthusiastic about the film, and about Lon Chaney. Seventy-five years after his death audiences are still impressed with his mysterious charisma. And here's a tip of the hat to Forry Ackerman, who was right about this stuff all along!