"Killer Leopard" (1954) Donald Murphy as "Fred Winters"
In this adventure Bomba the Jungle boy helps a Hollywood movie star search the dark, dangerous jungle for her missing husband (Donald Murphy as Fred Winters). As they search, they encounter a man-eating leopard.
"Frankenstein's Daughter" (1958) Donald Murphy as Dr. Oliver FrankMurphy’s Dr. Frank is essentially one of the first postmodern screen villains, a canny schizophrenic misanthrope who can charm his way out of the most damning situations, indeed, can lure even skeptical victims into his web of death. Two others of this archetype who come to mind are Quinlan in Orson Welle’s Touch Of Evil (1958), and Norma Bates in Hitchcock’s Psycho (1960).Murphy has the uncanny ability to make Frank charming in one breath, and downright terrifying the next. As slippery as a snake, Dr. Frank can be mauling a girl one second, and offering her a friendly cocktail the next, without skipping a beat. In fact, this is what makes him so dangerous; his agenda is often hidden and subtle; even audience members have come away confused about him; "Sure, he was evil, but he was so damn charming, too!"Another interesting aspect of Dr. Frank is his wounding candor. He can turn on charm like a faucet, but likewise he can be brutally straightforward, to the point of cruelty. This is another of his "secret weapons", much more effective than the battering-ram approach used by villains of the old school. Dr. Frank is indeed "Doctor Frank!"Even with all this, what makes Frankenstein’s Daughter one of the most unique and innovative B-movies of the Fifties is its extremely sophisticated, and somewhat convoluted sexual politics. Firstly the creation of a female monster, itself a riff on James Whale’s Bride Of Frankenstein, is not attempted here to foster a monster-mate, but to create the prototype for an obedient and aggressive killing machine! Mad Doctor Frank’s sexist edict " Like all women, she will obey!" is as shockingly nasty as it is absurd.
In a part he was born to play, Donald Murphy portrays a smarmy descendant of the original Dr. Frankenstein, who, while employed by an enfeebled old chemist (Felix Locher, the father of 1940s leading man Jon Hall), discovers a formula that regenerates dead tissue but causes startling disfigurement in whoever gets injected with the chemical. Murphy's madman disguises his name as Dr. Frank and spikes some fruit punch with the odious home brew to feed to his employer's perky teenage niece Trudy (Sandra Knight, who was married to Jack Nicholson at the time), turning her into a fanged, bushy-browed, popeyed monstrosity. But Murphy is also at work on a real-live monster in the basement of his employer's home. He brings the creature to life, and brings the film to a chaotic climax.
Murphy steals the show as Frank, turning in the best performance of any Cunha film, and perhaps one of the best mad doctor performances of the 1950s. Murphy's smug, arrogant Frank is a joy to behold as the film's resident mad doctor. Note the delight in his eyes and his sleazy smile as he feeds his "fruit punch" to the hapless Trudy! We also revel in his unctuous charm as he seduces sexy Sally Todd, who plays the town's resident teen tramp, Suzy Lawlor. Even Murphy's act of lighting a cigarette is punctuated with a sleazy suavity. And his dour, disrespectful attitude toward Locher is a delight to behold: Murphy's Frank treats Locher's elderly chemist like the doddering fool that he is! And note Murphy's wild-eyed lunacy as he decides to run Todd over with his car in order to obtain her head and brain for his patchwork monster. We also savor Murphy's final moments of lunacy as he tries to seduce Trudy again, is rejected again, then plans to permanently transform her into a monster: "You've always treated me as a monster, Trudy. Now you're going to be one!"
Murphy's closest mad doctor competitors of the late 1950s were Peter Cushing and Whit Bissell. Cushing's superiority as an actor is unquestionable, but it is difficult to make comparisons with Murphy because Frankenstein's Daughter was Murphy's only genre role. However, Murphy compares very favorably with Bissell. In AIP's I Was a Teenage Werewolf (1957) and I Was a Teenage Frankenstein (1957), Bissell's performances are competent and credible, but neither are as interesting or as fun to watch as Murphy's work in Frankenstein's Daughter. Indeed, Murphy's madman matches the tempo of the late 1950s: Oliver Frank is as earnest, obsessed, and maniacal as any "classic" mad scientist while possessing the arrogance, charm, and oiliness of a Las Vegas lounge lizard. In fact, it may be said that Michael Gough later perfected Murphy's smarmy, nasty style in such films as Horrors of the Black Museum (1959), Konga (1961), and The Black Zoo (1962).
Wolfe Barzell as Elsu, the gardener who doubles as Frank's assistant, beautifully complements Murphy's mad doctor. With his leering, grizzled expression and soiled clothes, Barzell is the very embodiment of degeneracy. In one scene, he approaches Knight, hands her a flower, and states: "I didn't like killing it. But some things are more beautiful dead." Barzell's Elsu also reminds Murphy's Frank of his Frankenstein lineage, telling the mad doctor how he obtained bodies for his father's unholy experiments and encouraging Murphy's Frank to continue in the family tradition. But Barzell also resembles Bela Lugosi's Ygor in his desire to protect and shelter Frank's homemade monster from the police and, ultimately, Frank himself.
Indeed, Frankenstein's Daughter is literally stolen by Murphy and Barzell, who give us the film's only interesting and enjoyable performances. Felix Locher is atrocious as Carter Morton, Frank's doddering employer. Locher is unable to emote or to speak his lines in any intelligible way. Yet his garbled delivery and Germanic accent do add to the film's fun, with such lines as: "I somehow get the impression he's a-spying on me," or "You vill drive me to distraction." While Locher's facial ugliness and foreign accent add to the film's dreary, grim tone, his enunciation makes Tor Johnson sound like John Barrymore by comparison.
"Masterson of Kansas (1954) Donald Murphy as Virgil Earp
Long before he devoted his life to gimmicky horror epics, director William Castle turned out a series of compact westerns for Columbia. One of the best of the batch was Masterson of Kansas, starring George Montgomery as dandified gunslinger Bat Masterson. The screenplay, by future Maverick mainstay Douglas Heyes, contrives to unite Masterson, Wyatt Earp (Bruce Cowling) Virgil Earp (Donald Murphy) and Doc Holliday (James Griffith) together in a common cause. The three protagonists intend to protect an impending land exchange between honest rancher Merrick (John Maxwell) and peace-seeking Indian chief Yellow Hawk (Jay Silverheels) against the crooked chicanery of land baron Clay Bennett (David Bruce). The most interesting characterization is provided by James Griffith, who portrays Doc Holliday as a borderline psychotic with a death wish. Nancy Gates provides the feminine angle as Merrick's daughter Amy.
"Lord Love A Duck" (1966) Donald Murphy as "Phil Neuhauser"
This film is nearly as weird as its title. Alan (Roddy McDowall) is one extremely bright high-school senior who looks after new arrival Barbara (Tuesday Weld). Madcap humor, much of it black, has made this before-its-time movie a cult favorite.The sole directorial effort of playwright/screenwriter/producer George Axelrod, Lord Love a Duck offers an odd mix of pointed comedy and inexplicable strangeness. Not particularly skilled behind the camera -- the shadow of a boom mike makes an uncredited guest appearance in at least one scene -- Axelrod makes for a pit bull of a satirist, tearing with abandon into the California youth culture that had become the center of the pop culture universe by 1966. The direct inspiration for Heathers and other high school-set black comedies, it features a strangely intense performance by Roddy McDowall as a charming, if cryptic, high school student who might also be a dangerous nihilist. His attempt to help transfer student Tuesday Weld make the transition to her new home allow the film to explore numerous aspects of '60s California, and Axlerod clearly delights in sending up his target of choice. He has less success finding a consistent tone or pace for the film, which is about as disjointed as they come, dipping from light comedy to high seriousness with little warning. Forgettable it's not, however, and fans of offbeat comedies owe it to themselves to give this one a chance.
Murphy's closest mad doctor competitors of the late 1950s were Peter Cushing and Whit Bissell. Cushing's superiority as an actor is unquestionable, but it is difficult to make comparisons with Murphy because Frankenstein's Daughter was Murphy's only genre role. However, Murphy compares very favorably with Bissell. In AIP's I Was a Teenage Werewolf (1957) and I Was a Teenage Frankenstein (1957), Bissell's performances are competent and credible, but neither are as interesting or as fun to watch as Murphy's work in Frankenstein's Daughter. Indeed, Murphy's madman matches the tempo of the late 1950s: Oliver Frank is as earnest, obsessed, and maniacal as any "classic" mad scientist while possessing the arrogance, charm, and oiliness of a Las Vegas lounge lizard. In fact, it may be said that Michael Gough later perfected Murphy's smarmy, nasty style in such films as Horrors of the Black Museum (1959), Konga (1961), and The Black Zoo (1962).
Wolfe Barzell as Elsu, the gardener who doubles as Frank's assistant, beautifully complements Murphy's mad doctor. With his leering, grizzled expression and soiled clothes, Barzell is the very embodiment of degeneracy. In one scene, he approaches Knight, hands her a flower, and states: "I didn't like killing it. But some things are more beautiful dead." Barzell's Elsu also reminds Murphy's Frank of his Frankenstein lineage, telling the mad doctor how he obtained bodies for his father's unholy experiments and encouraging Murphy's Frank to continue in the family tradition. But Barzell also resembles Bela Lugosi's Ygor in his desire to protect and shelter Frank's homemade monster from the police and, ultimately, Frank himself.
Indeed, Frankenstein's Daughter is literally stolen by Murphy and Barzell, who give us the film's only interesting and enjoyable performances. Felix Locher is atrocious as Carter Morton, Frank's doddering employer. Locher is unable to emote or to speak his lines in any intelligible way. Yet his garbled delivery and Germanic accent do add to the film's fun, with such lines as: "I somehow get the impression he's a-spying on me," or "You vill drive me to distraction." While Locher's facial ugliness and foreign accent add to the film's dreary, grim tone, his enunciation makes Tor Johnson sound like John Barrymore by comparison.
The Loretta Young Show, airing on NBC from 1953 to 1961, was the first and longest-running anthology drama series to feature a female star as host and actress. Film star Loretta Young played a variety of characters in well over half of the episodes, but her glamorous, fashion-show entrances as host became one of the most memorable features of this prime-time series.
Premiering under the title Letter to Loretta, the series was renamed The Loretta Young Show during the first season. Originally, the series was framed as the dramatization of viewers' letters. Each teleplay dramatized a different letter/story/message. Even after the letter device was dropped, Young still introduced and closed each story. At the beginning of each episode, she entered a living room set (supposedly her living room) through a door. Turning around to close the door and swirling her designer fashions as she walked up to the camera, Young was consciously putting on a mini-fashion show, and the spectacular entrance became Young's and the series's trademark. Glamour and fashion had been important elements of her film star image, and she considered them central to her television image and appeal. (As an indicatition of how strongly Young felt about this aspect of the series, she later won a suit against NBC for allowing her then-dated fashion openings to be seen in syndication.)