A twilit fairy tale of love, betrayal, and sinister magic, “White Zombie”, from 1932, also contains perhaps Bela Lugosi’s best performance as the zombie master Murder Legendre. A young couple, Madelaine (Madge Bellamy) and Neil (John Harron), arrives in Haiti to be married at the estate of Charles Beaumont, a dependable host (in so much as he’s always there when he needs you), who also happens to be in love with the bride. Covertly, and in desperation, Beaumont resorts to Lugosi’s voodoo spells to “kill” then retrieve the woman for himself as the zombie of the title, she forgetting everything (including her husband), with only a semblance of awareness, but with her beauty intact.

While the story itself is simple, the movie is hauntingly visual: the hero alone, drunk in a bar, sees his dead wife among the dancing shadows; Lugosi and his zombie slaves, absconding with a coffin, are shown in silhouette as they travel the willowy bog-lands; Legendre’s castle, viewed from below, appears as stone walls rising out of ragged ocean cliffs. The zombies here are decidedly less grisly than later specimens, uncanny rather than horrific, and one of the most effective shots depicts them only in silhouette, as they slowly make their way down the dusky hillside. Some of the sets are also monumentally impressive, particularly the massive arched staircase at Legendre’s castle, its stone misted with creepers, overlooking thick clouds and the sea, and where the climax of the film will take place.

The movie is also aurally suggestive: the distant sound of voodoo chants and drums, the thick, creaky cricket noises, the lowly groaning machinery of a sugar mill, Neil’s anguished shriek upon entering the crypt to find his wife’s coffin missing, and, above all, Bela Lugosi’s modulated tones, particularly in his delivery of such lines as “THERE IS no other way,” or “I have seen her eyes; she is deep in love… but not with you.”

Lugosi’s Murder Legendre, in black cloak, a round, black hat, with two sprouts of moustache framing the lips, and two devilish hair-horns for a goatee, is eerily malevolent, cutting out a wax effigy wrapped in Madeleine’s shawl, rotating it over a lantern’s flame, smiling bemusedly. He is also an intelligent, thoughtful character, allowing more variety and nuance than almost any other role given to Lugosi. Legendre is not only a demonic villain, but an unscrupulous if practical businessmen (using zombies as cheap labor in his sugar mill), a touchy and proud entrepreneur (observe his sensitivity at Beaumont’s mistrustful look and refusal to shake hands), and an understatedly ironic and merciless wit (his dismissive quip, “Well, well, we understand each other better now”, is the best line in the film).

The hero comes off as predominantly twerpy, naïve, and unreasonably too trusting, with tragic consequences. The heroine herself is rather wide-eyed and bland to start with, so that her translation into a zombie might have escaped notice if the other characters didn’t comment upon it. On the other hand, Joseph Cawthorn, as the clergyman, Dr. Bruner, is reliable and lively in a supporting role, and Robert Frazer as Beaumont, is also effective, if occasionally florid.

Producer Edward Halperin, cinematographer Arthur Martinelli, and director Victor Halperin, transcend the film’s b-production restrictions, with a rich texture of imaginative camera angles, peculiar details, framing devices, and an eye for shadowy composition. Working on the Universal backlot with limited budget and time, the Halperin brothers and Martinelli make the very most of their resources, and the resulting film is not only considerably underrated, but one of the most atmospheric horror films of the 1930’s, with an archetypal story, moody sets, languid pacing, and Bela Lugosi’s creepily necromantic performance.