Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde: 1920s Version Starring John Barrymore

There had already been quite a few adaptations of Robert Louis Stevenson’s Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde before this one came into fruition. This 1920 version is the most popular of the silent era, mainly due to John Barrymore’s flexuous, mismated performance(s) as both Jekyll and Hyde. It was met with plaudits upon its release, so much so that an emulous, counterfeit cash-in was disjected the same year.

Any self-respecting genre buff will tell you that Barrymore’s Jekyll is the more desirable film. I won’t, for I haven’t seen the cheap alternative. Jekyll is probably the least stately silent film that I’ve seen. This may or may not have been a result of acquiring one of the sketchier reissues (damn public domain). Still, it’s a fiduciary conquest for low-key horror.

Do I really need to give a recap of the plot? Conscientious scientist Henry Jekyll glugs down an “evil potion” that turns him into the peccant Edward Hyde. The storyline is as straightforward as it gets, but it does leave a few questions unanswered. The pernicious Hyde is seen taking an antidote to transpose his genetic secession. If Hyde is so evil, then why does he willingly turn himself back into Jekyll?

Also, does Jekyll have any recollection of the foul deeds he commits as his caliginous confrere, or is it like waking up with an alkaline hangover and not remembering anything you did the night before? The film never addresses these issues. It might seem like a pettifogging pickle (huh?), but it’s too simple a narrative to lade with continuity errors. Nonetheless, this is a timeless tale that illustrates the dangers of yielding to decadence. There’s a Hyde in all of us, but one wouldn’t want to indulge him.

Henry Jekyll is indoctrinated against this ratiocinative creed. The curious doctor is played to perfection by John Barrymore, Drew’s grandfather. If I didn’t know any better, I’d swear that Jekyll and Hyde were played by two different people. As Jekyll, Barrymore is chaste, pious, and principled. As Hyde, he is unctuous, malignant, and just plain whacked out. The transformation sequences are a singular sight to behold.

No, there are no air bladders or precast prosthetics on hand. We just watch as Barrymore cambers and contorts his frame with spastic ardency. There was no need for thick make-up, as his facial expressions said it all. I pine for the days of minimalist monsters. Regrettably, I was born into the CGI generation. I’m sorry, but The Licker or The Tooth Fairy will never be as creepy as Count Orlock; Erik, the Phantom; or the malformed creation in Thomas Edison’s Frankenstein.

The rest of the cast is up to par. The acting isn’t as flossy as you’d expect. Considering Jekyll‘s date of release, everyone is understated. Others have remarked that the pacing is lymphatic, but I’m inclined to disagree. I actually felt that things moved along too quickly. The movie was in a hurry to get somewhere, but it sacrificed expository longanimity by jumping from Point A to Point C.

Maybe it’s just the way my copy is pasted together. As I noted earlier, Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde is a public domain title, which means that there are way too many versions to glean from. They all sport varying running times and dreggy prints. Kino Video’s DVD appears to be the definitive deal, but it will cost you an arm and a great deal of money. I didn’t dote on this flick enough to shell out thirty bucks for it, but it’s humbling for the vernal horror fan.