JACK PIERCE
THE MAN BEHIND THE MONSTERS
Special Commemorative Magazine
visionary
m e d i a
There’s not one of us in this industry who wouldn’t love to create another Frankenstein Monster as well as Jack Pierce did in that original film. There’s not one of us who doesn’t look at that make-up in absolute and total adoration. We admire what he did and when you think of how did it—with cotton and collodion—it was a brilliant character. We’re all still trying to achieve that level of genius. Not for the fame of it; just for our own self-satisfaction.
--- Tom Burman, January 1996
J ACK PIERCE
THE MAN BEHIND THE M O NSTERS Written and Published by - Editor-
Extra Photo Contributors
Illustrations - Ray
Scott Essman Carsten Dau Ron Borst Perry Shields Galen Wilkes SPOOKY Santoleri
VISIONARY MEDIA Contact: P.O. Box 1722
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Publisher’s E-Mail: [email protected] Editor’s E-Mail: [email protected]
Special Thanks—Sara Karloff, Béla Lugosi, JR., Ron Chaney, plus Bob Burns, Carmen Dirigo, Alan Young, Doug Norwine
Contents copyright © 2000, visionary media. All rights reserved.
Photographs used solely for publicity purposes.
CENTURY of CREATURE PEOPLE 1900-1980 Advertisement Designed by Ada Guerin (Item will be published in summer, 2000)
the early years
Janus Piccoulas — a Greek immigrant, born on May 5, 1889 — must have been shattered when, having moved from his first American city, Chicago, to Los Angeles to play professional baseball, he was told that he was too little. Though he had been a semi-pro shortstop in Chicago, at 5’6”, Janus was a victim of the first decade of the 1900s, a time when ballplayers were getting bigger and stronger—like the legendary Ty Cobb, who stood 6’1” and was a sleek 175 pounds. However, if Janus had made that California Coast League team, he may never have become the Jack Pierce that made cinema history in the decades to come. Not long after his dream of a career in sports faded, Janus chose to Americanize his name and married an American woman, Blanche Craven. His family subsequently rejected him, but in the first decade of the 20th century, Southern California was the land of opportunity, and 20-ish Jack Pierce quickly began his ascent in the fledgling motion picture industry. Pierce’s first real jobs were as a theater projectionist and later a theater chain manager for Harry Culver (top left) in the early 1910s. Culver had founded Culver City, offering land to any entrepreneur who pledged to build a studio—one who took his offer was producer Thomas Ince. Pierce fit in well amongst these early 20th century dreamers, and began to work on movie sets for Ince and other studios including Vitagraph and a new studio formed by another ex-Chicagoan, Carl Laemmle. Pierce wore many hats, serving as a camera loader, assistant director, bit player and stuntman. He once claimed that his going price was $1 per fall! By 1915, Pierce was employed on a regular basis at the biggest studio in existence — Universal City (above right and below left). Established by Laemmle, Universal City produced many silent “shorts” in the 1910s, and Pierce often worked on their skeletal crews (as the one pictured below right, in 1921). But Jack Pierce was only starting to make his way in Hollywood.
pierce in hollywood
As Jack Pierce slowly forged a film career in Hollywood during the 1910s, one aspect of filmmaking especially called to him. Though he had been a stuntman and bit player on early film crews, Pierce wanted to take his performing skills to the next level. Much like other aspiring actors of the time who lacked the movie star good looks of a Rudolph Valentino or the swashbuckling screen presence of a Douglas Fairbanks, Pierce endeavored to get parts in films by transforming himself into any character that a movie called for. Along with performers such as Lon Chaney and Jack Dawn — two future makeup masters who got regular work acting in films — Jack Pierce developed an extensive résumé of character parts in the films of Vitagraph, Universal and other studios in the 1910s (left and below). Still, his acting career was somewhat of a side gig as he still earned the bulk of his living working behind the camera, eventually moving up to assistant director on many of his sets.
By the early 1920s, Pierce had been working in the business for nearly 15 years, but his acting career had failed to blossom. At Universal, he almost certainly formed a relationship with Lon Chaney who was a contract player at the studio until 1918. Chaney, of course, was the master of transforming himself to suit a film role, and Pierce surely developed his trade using Chaney’s tutelage, at least to some degree. When Chaney left to freelance, only rarely returning to Universal for legendary performances in Hunchback of Notre Dame (1923) and Phantom of the Opera (1925), Pierce probably saw the opportunity to become Universal’s next chameleon-esque actor who could play any part a script required, making use of his nascent makeup skills.
first significant makeups
BIll Fox, founder of Fox Pictures, who later merged with 20th Century Films to form 20th Century Fox Studios. In 1926, his studio gave Jack Pierce his first key makeup job.
In 1928, Universal brought Jack Pierce back to his home studio when they put a film into production that was originally intended as a Lon Chaney vehicle. Although Chaney was ultimately unable to participate, Carl Laemmle Sr. finally planned to shoot a big screen version of Victor Hugo’s “The Man Who Laughs.” Shepherded by Laemmle’s son, 20-year-old associate producer Carl Laemmle Jr., Universal’s The Man Who Laughs told the tragic story of Gwynplaine, the victim of an aristocratic dispute who has had a wicked grin carved into his face. In place of Chaney, the Laemmles used fellow German Conrad Veidt, the star of The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari. In Pierce, Laemmle Sr. realized that he had the in-house talent to realize the demands of the Gwynplaine makeup. Pierce’s conception (below and opposite below) suggests a pathetic but demonic figure, and the lavish film set new standards for its costume design (by Vera West) and production values. In Veidt, Pierce had the perfect material from which to create his magic; Bob Kane’s conception of The Joker in the Batman comics owes much to Pierce’s Gwynplaine makeup. One can only speculate what Pierce and Veidt might have concocted if the latter had been cast in the many Universal monster vehicles to come, but the actor, sensing the introduction of sound to motion pictures, returned to Germany where his thick accent would not inhibit his career. Nonetheless, The Man Who Laughs stands as an early example of excellence in an actor-makeup artist collaboration.
Jack Pierce’s skills as a makeup artist were gaining attention in the mid-1920s. Although the struggling actor, now in his mid-30s, managed to get regular work in Hollywood, his skills as a cameraman and assistant director were more in demand than his abilities as a performer. Rather, it was the characters that he managed to create for himself — using techniques similar to those of his friend and mentor Lon Chaney — that were intriguing to filmmakers in the heart of the silent era. Ironically, though he had called Universal City an adopted home since the mid-1910s, Pierce got his first significant job as a makeup artist “over the hill” at Fox Pictures in 1926. Determined to achieve a realistic simian character for the film The Monkey Talks, presiding studio boss Bill Fox convinced Universal to loan Pierce to his enterprise for the project. Pierce worked diligently to create a believable animalistic ape appearance for actor Jacques Lernier (opposite top). Seizing his first major makeup opportunity and undertaking one of his first chances to apply makeup to someone else’s face, Pierce and Lernier worked to develop the chimpanzee-man, utilizing a muzzle, ears, hairpieces, and other materials for
his hands and eyebags. So successful was Pierce’s execution of the character that his career reputation was cemented with this one film. From now on, Jack Pierce was a makeup artist, creating characters and applying makeups on other actors. His fortunes as an actor may have soured, but Pierce found his true calling with The Monkey Talks. When the film was released in the spring of 1927, many reviews took particular note of Pierce’s superb makeup concept and Lernier’s realistic appearance.
the laemmle era
When Jack Pierce received the following letter on official Universal Pictures Corporation stationary on August 6, 1928, his immediate future was filled with incredible possibility:
“Dear Mr. Pierce -
May I take this means of expressing my sincere appreciation for your earnest cooperation during the production of “The Last Warning.” Hoping we will be associated again real soon.
Cordially yours, Carl Laemmle, Jr.”
As the new head of production at the studio on the occasion of his 21st birthday, Junior Laemmle — as he was called by the Universal regulars — soon made Jack Pierce, age 39, Universal’s department head of makeup. For Pierce, this title was only half of the opportunity he was given; upon the success of The Man Who Laughs Junior announced his decision to make movies out of the classic horror novels and Junior gave Pierce free reign to apply his skills to the development of characters for these projects. First on the list was Dracula, which had enjoyed a run as a successful stage adaptation of the Bram Stoker classic in 1927. At first, Junior and Senior Laemmle wished to cast the premiere “horror” star of the time, Lon Chaney, though by the late 1920s, Chaney had been well-established as a great deal more than a horror film star. However, in the summer of 1930, Chaney died, in effect creating an opening for Jack Pierce to forge his own name as a makeup artist, albeit one who created characters on other actors. Eventually, the Laemmles would make Jack Pierce their key player in the regular production of the many horror films which Universal would release in the early and mid-1930s.
dracula
Jack Pierce’s first attempt to create an unforgettable screen character in the new sound era of filmmaking was essentially thwarted by the star of the first project “greenlit” by Junior Laemmle in 1930. While Dracula afforded Pierce the chance to bring a vampire character unlike any seen before to the screen, Béla Lugosi arrived in California with different plans. As Lugosi had always applied his own makeups on stage, he assumed the same situation would occur in Universal’s film version. Steadfast that he make himself into the cinematic version of Count Dracula (below), Jack Pierce was relegated to designing a green greasepaint for the character (through Max Factor’s organization), and likely designed the widow’s peak hairstyle in concert with hairstyling department head Lily Dirigo. Instead of working on the title character, Pierce, Dirigo, and costume designer Vera West collaborated to create the looks for Helen Chandler as Mina (above left) and the Count’s brides (above right). Nonetheless, when it was released in February of 1931, Dracula was an unqualified smash, and the Universal brass clamored for a follow-up. Though Lugosi was originally cast as the Monster when screenwriter-director Robert Florey was putting together the next Universal horror effort, Frankenstein, Junior Laemmle dismissed the test footage, claiming that the Lugosi Monster was too derivative of the title character in the German classic Der Golem (1920). When both Lugosi and Florey were subsequently assigned to Murders in the Rue Morgue (1932), an incalculable opportunity arose for Jack Pierce, Universal, and fans of the horror film genre.
frankenstein
“I believe this character has been the greatest of all monsters portrayed in motion pictures,” said a Jack Pierce to TV host Wayne Thomas in 1962. The original Frankenstein from 1931 remains a benchmark for movie makeup. Pierce described in great detail what inspired his classic character conception after he read the novel—given to him by Carl Laemmle Junior—three times in 1930. “I did research work for six months before I created the Frankenstein monster,” he said. “It was a lot of hard work, trying to find ways and means, what can you do? Frankenstein wasn’t a doctor; he was a scientist, so ... he had to take the head and open it, ... and he took wires to rivet the head. I had to [add] the electrical outlets to connect electricity in here on the neck. I made it out of clay and put hair on it and took it in to Junior Laemmle’s office He said, ‘you mean to tell me you can do this on a human being?’ I said, ‘positively.’ He said, ‘all right, we will go the limit.’ From then on, the story was written, and we went to work. “
For Pierce’s first Frankenstein film — there were six eventual sequels for which he would create a monster — he described the process of assembling the character. “The wig was made with a cotton roll on the top to get the flatness and the circle that protrudes out from the head,” he revealed. “Instead of giving [the character] a round head, you get a different edge around the sides. The entire head was built new every day. The large gash on the top of the forehead, that’s where you open the head to put the brains in there, the artificial brain. It took three hours each morning. Then the electrodes were put on his neck. The makeup was sky gray, originated by me through Max Factor’s organization.”
Pierce reserved his final comments regarding James Whale’s landmark Frankenstein for his friend and longtime colleague, Boris Karloff. “For Boris, the coat was cut down so the length of arms and the fingers would look long,” he explained. “ Everything was in black to give him the height. Also, I padded him to look eight feet tall. I didn’t really teach him how to walk. Boris and I would talk, but the man is so wonderful, I think the greatest of them all as far as playing these parts.”
Colin Clive as Henry Frankenstein with Karloff
Dwight Frye as Fritz torments the Monster
Edward Van Sloan as Dr. Waldman
Boris Karloff
James Whale
the mummy
In 1932, Jack Pierce was called upon to realize two makeups for Boris Karloff in The Mummy. ‘Papa’ Karl Freund, the director of photography from Dracula, was brought in to direct the film, loosely based on the discovery of King Tutankhamen’s tomb in 1922. Pierce was required to create two likenesses: Karloff’s Ardath Bey character — who appears in most of the film as a wrinkled Egyptian prince — and Im-Ho-Tep, the decrepit still-mummified demon who comes to life when an ancient curse is broken by careless explorers. It was with the Im-Ho-Tep makeup that Pierce faced his greatest challenge to date.
“The complete makeup, from the top of his head to the bottom of his feet took eight hours,” Pierce explained. “The bandages on the body had to be put on. Then I had to seal them with tape so that they wouldn’t unravel. Then after that, I had to put the burned bandages on. After that, I put the clay on. When he gets out of the sarcophagus, he starts to walk, [so I created the character so that] the bandages would break and the dust will fall off exactly as a mummy that’s been buried for 3500 years. It was an hour and a half to take it off.”
Though Im-Ho-Tep was only on screen for a few brief moments at the outset of The Mummy, the impact of his appearance still remains. Freund chose to show the character first as a lifeless entity in his sarcophagus, later opening his eyes when the curse is broken, and then in a horrific shot of his hand grabbing the sacred scroll that has been foolishly unearthed by the explorer Fletcher (actor Ralph Norton, below left). In fact, the image below was deleted from the final film—all that we see on screen is Im-Ho-Tep’s left hand and the reaction of the shocked Fletcher. Certainly, Karloff’s eight-hour ordeal to get into the makeup proved worthwhile, and it is likely that he only worked a day or two at most in the full Im-Ho-Tep incarnation. Below right, Pierce attends to Karloff, who is sitting under the massive arc lights of early studio soundstages, while Mrs. Karloff serves up some tea.
Karloff worked the remainder of the production as Ardath Bey, bottom left, a far simpler Pierce design, stalking the grounds on which his rest was disturbed, searching out his princess. Given Karloff’s already distinct eyes
and brows, Pierce accentuated those traits and added his personal cotton-collodion-fuller’s earth mixture to give Ardath Bey the wrinkled texture of a man who has awakened from a 3700-year slumber. For The Mummy, Pierce received a Hollywood Filmograph award for his considerable accomplishments. Presented to him by Karloff, bottom right, the statue stands as the lone official recognition of Pierce by his peers.
the faces of karloff
Of all the actors and actresses who entered Jack Pierce’s makeup bungalow on the Universal lot, Boris Karloff was the most integral to the success of Pierce’s work. Following their tremendous achievements with Frankenstein in 1931, Pierce and Karloff engaged in many unique projects that made use of each of their talents. Before Pierce and Karloff shot The Mummy, they collaborated for James Whale’s The Old Dark House in 1932. Playing the demonic butler, Morgan (left), Pierce’s conception of Karloff as a scarred haggard menace fit perfectly into Whale’s timeless haunted house tale. In 1934, the studio sought to pair their two horror giants, Karloff and Béla Lugosi, in a series of films. First up was The Black Cat (below left) in which Pierce subtly enhanced Karloff’s basic facial features, eyebrows and hairline to create a memorable Gothic persona for the actor. The next year, Pierce took his approach even further with The Raven (below), modeling a misshapen eye and right side of Karloff’s face. Though the false eye was less convincing than other aspects of the makeup, by the end of the Laemmle era (with 1936’s The Invisible Ray as the final KarloffLugosi pairing), Pierce and Karloff had amassed an impressive body of work.
Jack Pierce - The Man Behind the Monsters Page 1
