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6.8/10
Senior Film Conservator
A definitive 6.8/10 rating for a film that redefined the boundaries of cult cinema. Mystery of the Wax Museum remains a cornerstone of transgressive art.
If you like your horror movies with a side of snappy 1930s dialogue and don't mind a little bit of Technicolor weirdness, you'll have a blast. People who need modern pacing might find it slow, but if you enjoy watching a reporter who can actually talk fast enough to keep up with the plot, this is for you. If you hate old-school theatrical acting, just stay away. 🕯️
The whole thing feels like it’s vibrating on a weird frequency. It isn't just a horror movie; it's got this frantic, almost screwball energy that you don't really see anymore. Glenda Farrell is basically running the show as the reporter, and she’s got more personality in her pinky finger than most modern protagonists. She’s constantly moving, talking, and looking like she’s about to trip over her own heels while chasing a scoop.
The museum itself? It’s unnerving. Not in the way a modern jump-scare movie is, but in the way a dusty basement feels when the light flickers. The statues look like they’re holding their breath. There’s a specific shot of Fay Wray where you genuinely start to wonder if she’s made of rubber or actual skin, and it stays in your head longer than it probably should.
Lionel Atwill is playing the sculptor, and he does that thing where he sounds perfectly reasonable right up until you realize he’s completely unhinged. It’s a classic trope, sure, but he wears it well. He looks like he’s lived in that museum for about twenty years too long, breathing in all those fumes.
I couldn't help but think about how different this is from something like Stolen Hours or the weird pacing you find in Tamilla. It’s got a specific, sharp bite to it. The color palette is this odd, sickly orange-and-blue wash that makes everything feel like a dream you had after eating too much cheese before bed.
It’s not perfect. Sometimes the plot takes a shortcut that makes zero sense, and the police are, predictably, useless. But then you get a moment of pure, strange atmosphere and you forget the holes. It doesn't try to be a "masterpiece" or a "meditation" on anything. It just wants to show you a guy turning people into candles. And honestly? That's enough for me.
It’s funny how it doesn't try to be too clever. It just lets the creepiness sit there. If you’re looking for a movie that doesn't care about being "prestige" cinema, this is a solid pick for a rainy Tuesday night. Just maybe don't stare too long at any mannequins on your way home. 💀
IMDb —
1920
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