The fifth of Universal's classic invisibility films inspired by the novel "The Invisible Man" by H.G. Wells and the last not counting two appearances in Abbott and Costello parodies, "The Invisible Man's Revenge" is extraordinarily poorly written. It's overburdened with exposition, much of which is entirely unnecessary and not followed up on. There's lots of telling and little showing--even for the traveling matte effects for the invisibility. The film is more than a third through before there even is an invisible man. Character actions and motivations are often confused and unclear and, yet, the the plotting is both overly intricate and laden with holes, served up with a more melodramatic treatment than prior entries in the series.
Thanks to the annoyingly self-contradictory propaganda of the prior "Invisible Agent" (1942), however, this may not be the worst of Universal's invisibility pictures, but it's a far cry from the 1933 masterful mix of camp, horror and sci-fi in "The Invisible Man" and the underrated "The Invisible Man Returns" and even the surprisingly funny "The Invisible Woman" (both 1940). Those three each did some interesting things with the notion of invisibility; for example, by equating it with the disembodied voices of the radio and telephone, examining the traces left behind by an invisible man in the police dragnet, and an invisible woman liberated from the male gaze. Even "Invisible Agent" had the promising concept, although wasted, of the use of invisibility for espionage. Here, it merely becomes the tool of an incoherent mind in an incoherent narrative, and it's kind of a confused and derivative rehash of "The Invisible Man Returns" in that transparency is employed by a man who attempts to set things right in his life again by intimidating the seen. Although, I will say that Jon Hall is more tolerable in this villainous part than as the dimwit he played in "Invisible Agent."
Hall's Robert Griffin shares the name of the Griffins in three of the prior films, but oddly no relation to those men is mentioned throughout the picture, and this Griffin is decidedly not a scientist. According to a newspaper article that he conveniently leaves behind in a discarded outfit, he's a "homicidal maniac" who escaped from an asylum. The report goes on to claim that the police have put out a dragnet to capture the fugitive. In this first scene, we see him hide from a patrolman. After that, there is no evidence in the rest of the film for any such dragnet or investigation. Only a dog seems to care about catching Griffin. Not only that, but his name is mentioned in front of the Chief constable, and he registers no knowledge of any Griffin! It's as though the screenwriter forgot that he'd written that he was a fugitive. Except that Griffin brings up his fugitive status again when, by the most chance of contrivances, he runs into a mad doctor (played by frequent Dracula actor John Carradine) experimenting in making animals unseen.
Then, there's this long backstory that Griffin and his former partners the Herricks get into where Robert was presumed dead, but actually had amnesia for years, and there's the issue of the half of a fortune owed to him. Sounds interesting, but we see none of it; the characters just talk about it--violating the golden rule of cinema by telling instead of showing. During their conversation, Griffin becomes unconscious from a drink the wife serves him, suggesting that he's been drugged, but there's no actual evidence of this. Oh, and he's in love with their daughter, who he's never met, and who we hardly see throughout the picture--we see the Invisible Man more often, unfortunately. Another man, a reporter, is also after the daughter's affections, too, forming a trite love triangle that's hardly developed.
On top of all of this is the mostly failed attempts at comic relief by Griffin's partner in crime, Herbert. The darts scene, though, may be the best thing here, and it anticipates the boxing in "Abbott and Costello Meet the Invisible Man" (1951)--even though the scene serves no purpose to the plot and rather grinds it to a halt. To set it up, Griffin is helping Herbert to pay his rent so that they may share his home, but as with other storylines here, this is never followed up--we never see the two in that house again.
This is such a mess that I get the sense that there may've been some narrative ideas here that were subsequently altered, dropped or not fully developed, including Griffin as a bit of an unreliable narrator or Lady Herrick having been planned as a villain--actually drugging Griffin and conspiring to withhold the fortune owed to him. As it is, however, much of the narrative remains confusing and poorly executed. Not even the resurrection of the transfusion business and the return of the bandaged head and goggles look from the first two Invisible Man films can save this one. Even the traveling matte visual effects by John P. Fulton aren't as impressive after 11 years of use, and the narrative does them no service in showcasing the effects. Once unseen, this Griffin spends most of the film avoiding his transparency, including by splashing water and flower on his face to reveal his shape. The special effects seem to be even more noticeably imperfect than usual, too; for instance, his open eyeballs are visible in the flower scene when they shouldn't be. This Invisible Man is best left unseen.
Thanks to the annoyingly self-contradictory propaganda of the prior "Invisible Agent" (1942), however, this may not be the worst of Universal's invisibility pictures, but it's a far cry from the 1933 masterful mix of camp, horror and sci-fi in "The Invisible Man" and the underrated "The Invisible Man Returns" and even the surprisingly funny "The Invisible Woman" (both 1940). Those three each did some interesting things with the notion of invisibility; for example, by equating it with the disembodied voices of the radio and telephone, examining the traces left behind by an invisible man in the police dragnet, and an invisible woman liberated from the male gaze. Even "Invisible Agent" had the promising concept, although wasted, of the use of invisibility for espionage. Here, it merely becomes the tool of an incoherent mind in an incoherent narrative, and it's kind of a confused and derivative rehash of "The Invisible Man Returns" in that transparency is employed by a man who attempts to set things right in his life again by intimidating the seen. Although, I will say that Jon Hall is more tolerable in this villainous part than as the dimwit he played in "Invisible Agent."
Hall's Robert Griffin shares the name of the Griffins in three of the prior films, but oddly no relation to those men is mentioned throughout the picture, and this Griffin is decidedly not a scientist. According to a newspaper article that he conveniently leaves behind in a discarded outfit, he's a "homicidal maniac" who escaped from an asylum. The report goes on to claim that the police have put out a dragnet to capture the fugitive. In this first scene, we see him hide from a patrolman. After that, there is no evidence in the rest of the film for any such dragnet or investigation. Only a dog seems to care about catching Griffin. Not only that, but his name is mentioned in front of the Chief constable, and he registers no knowledge of any Griffin! It's as though the screenwriter forgot that he'd written that he was a fugitive. Except that Griffin brings up his fugitive status again when, by the most chance of contrivances, he runs into a mad doctor (played by frequent Dracula actor John Carradine) experimenting in making animals unseen.
Then, there's this long backstory that Griffin and his former partners the Herricks get into where Robert was presumed dead, but actually had amnesia for years, and there's the issue of the half of a fortune owed to him. Sounds interesting, but we see none of it; the characters just talk about it--violating the golden rule of cinema by telling instead of showing. During their conversation, Griffin becomes unconscious from a drink the wife serves him, suggesting that he's been drugged, but there's no actual evidence of this. Oh, and he's in love with their daughter, who he's never met, and who we hardly see throughout the picture--we see the Invisible Man more often, unfortunately. Another man, a reporter, is also after the daughter's affections, too, forming a trite love triangle that's hardly developed.
On top of all of this is the mostly failed attempts at comic relief by Griffin's partner in crime, Herbert. The darts scene, though, may be the best thing here, and it anticipates the boxing in "Abbott and Costello Meet the Invisible Man" (1951)--even though the scene serves no purpose to the plot and rather grinds it to a halt. To set it up, Griffin is helping Herbert to pay his rent so that they may share his home, but as with other storylines here, this is never followed up--we never see the two in that house again.
This is such a mess that I get the sense that there may've been some narrative ideas here that were subsequently altered, dropped or not fully developed, including Griffin as a bit of an unreliable narrator or Lady Herrick having been planned as a villain--actually drugging Griffin and conspiring to withhold the fortune owed to him. As it is, however, much of the narrative remains confusing and poorly executed. Not even the resurrection of the transfusion business and the return of the bandaged head and goggles look from the first two Invisible Man films can save this one. Even the traveling matte visual effects by John P. Fulton aren't as impressive after 11 years of use, and the narrative does them no service in showcasing the effects. Once unseen, this Griffin spends most of the film avoiding his transparency, including by splashing water and flower on his face to reveal his shape. The special effects seem to be even more noticeably imperfect than usual, too; for instance, his open eyeballs are visible in the flower scene when they shouldn't be. This Invisible Man is best left unseen.