Cobra Woman

Moviecut—Cobra Woman

source: Cobra Woman

1943's "Cobra Woman" brought together two of Universal's biggest box office stars of the war years, Maria Montez and Lon Chaney, in a Technicolor extravaganza helmed by director Robert Siodmak, who proves better than his material by going at such a linear, fast paced clip that one simply goes along for the ride. So simple is its structure that it's no wonder that Montez fans consider it her masterpiece, for indeed no matter your disposition this one is tough to dislike. Chaney fans can only be disappointed however, for after starring in two of his greatest films, "Frankenstein Meets the Wolf Man" and Robert Siodmak's "Son of Dracula," he is sadly reduced here to a mute supporting role as Hava, powerful priest/bodyguard for Mary Nash's Queen, hoping that Tollea will save her people from the tyranny of evil twin sister Naja (both played by gorgeous Maria), whose immunity to the poisonous bite of the King Cobra makes her the all powerful ruler. Edgar Barrier's high priest supplies additional villainy, while the expected heroics of Jon Hall and Sabu include much leaping and jumping. It's pretty much Maria's show whenever she's on screen, and for my money her finest moment is the exotic dance performed for the cobra's benefit, exalted fodder for lovers of camp, but also a real showcase for her undiluted eroticism at its best. For Chaney, it was the only color film among his Universal credits of the decade, and an opportunity to pay tribute to his father in the opening scene, pretending to be a blind beggar while preventing Sabu from discovering his cleverly hidden instrument of death.

This has to be one of the most hilarious bad films of all time. I gave it a 5: 1 for film but 10 for the fun (equals out to a 5). It has what was well on the way to becoming Maria's "stock company" Jon Hall, Sabu and Turhan Bey (except Cobra Woman was without Turhan Bey). Mary Nash plays, I think, the high-priestess of the Cobra Temple or maybe even Maria's nanny(it's been a while since I saw it and it's not available on VHS or DVD so you must depend on the very occasional TV showings to catch it)with her very best Maria Ouspenskaya (the slowest taking woman on the screen...by the time she finished you either forget what she was talking about or no longer cared!). The 2 Marias actually appeared in one film together, The Mystery Of Marie Roget. Pity there were no more. Maria did a couple of films with the always over-the-top Gale Sondergaard. A great pairing. Montez is responsible for two of the funniest moments in screen history; one from SUDAN (again the stock company but less Sabu). Jon Hall discoveries her in the desert, dying from lack of water...BUT...her hair is perfectly coiffed and not a touch of makeup is out of place. (Old Hollywood...don't you just love it!) And the other is in Cobra Woman. After they have overthrown both the high priest and Maria's evil twin sister (is there any other kind?)the country is without a ruler. Nash pleads with her to take possession of the Cobra Throne but she refuses, preferring to go away with Hall and Sabu on their fishing boat. Nash (in her very best Ouspenskaya) says to her: "But mine chhhild, your peep-ole neeed 'chu" Then, without even changing the expression on her face (which she seldom did anyway) Maria turns to her and utters the unforgettable line: "Gif me dah Cob-bra Jo-ols." In my mind still one of the most fall-down-funny lines in the history of film.

To many, this film will seem pretty silly and insignificant. I admit it. But, for what it was, it was one of the best. This film was meant to be a silly escapist film--not a "big" movie but a B-movie meant to entertain the kids and adults alike. And, it was a major step up from the average B-western (which, after seeing a few, looked the same). And the audiences loved these silly, yet magical films. This happens to be one of my favorites. Before I even saw it, I saw a publicity photo of the very sultry Maria Montez as the Cobra Woman--dressed in a turban, evening gown and lounging across a giant cobra statue. Considering I was about 13 or so, I think I fell in love! I HAD to see this hot lady in the film! Well, when I finally located a video of it years later, I finally had my chance (though by then, I had found my own "Cobra Woman" and didn't have quite the same pressing need as when I was a teen). It was silly but intensely exciting--with lots of action, campiness and Jon Hall as the only man virile enough to tame this "she-beast"! I loved it and wanted to see it again--it was magical and just plain fun! See it and enjoy unless you are a super-sophisticated person. I love foreign films and art films but sometimes I just gotta have some mindless B-movie fun!

Oh, kids, this is the one to beat for pure camp ecstasy! (Okay, okay, maybe "The Oscar" is worse, but its pleasures are tawdrier) "Cobra Woman" has every dumb, boneheaded, low-budg, tacky genre cliche all in one swell package. If you haven't seen this, you just aren't as camp-hip as you think. "Gif me tha cob-dah jool!"

Priceless camp. Deliriously gratifying good-twin/evil-twin struggle for religious power (for good or evil) over isolated island kingdom. Forties movie morality at its most unreal. Evil (i.e. sexy) twin's cooch-dance causes death. Good twin's frigid immobility brings life and, as one giddy handmaiden in nylon veils cries, freedom to "worship as we choose!" Narcissistic Maria Montez obviously adores playing with herself, and makes both twins florid and fruity. I'd love to have a VIDEO or SCRIPT of this eye-popping, unique hallucination. Sample of style: When the island rumbles from volcanic activity, someone always mutters, "Fire mountain angry!"

Released in 1944, COBRA WOMAN was precisely the sort of escapist fare demanded by audiences seeking relief from the horrors of World War II--and over the years it has become something of a cult classic, a wild and riotous mixture of outrageous sets and costumes, ridiculous plot and dialogue, and faintly absurd performances. If you are seeking a mindless romp with tremendous camp appeal, look no further: this film is the goods. Directed by Robert Siodmak, who go on to become a noted director of film noir, COBRA WOMAN concerns an innocent South Seas maiden (Maria Montez) who is to marry a sailor (Jon Hall)--but who is suddenly kidnapped and whisked off to Cobra Island, where she discovers she is actually the twin sister of the evil high priestess. Can Maria, Jon, a half-naked Sabu, a heavily made-up Lon Chaney Junior, and sarong-wearing monkey overthrow the evil priestess and return the island to peace? Well, maybe, if only Maria can lay hands on the priestess' cobra jewel! The plot is amusing in a silly sort of way, but it is really the style of the thing that makes it such a charming bit of fluff. The best way to describe it is as pure Hollywood: costumes and sets are a truly wild mixture of Arabia, the ancient Aztecs, South America, Carmen Miranda's hats, Dorothy Lamour's sarong, and Joan Crawford's shoulder pads, and Cobra Island comes complete with a bad special-effects volcano just for good measure. The cast plays with a mixture of sincerity and inadequacy that is very entertaining. Maria Montez was a great beauty of the era and she wears the brilliance of Technicolor like a second skin, and if she clearly wasn't known for either acting chops or dancing skills... well, let's see YOU say lines like "I want that cobra jewel" with a straight face or squirm around in a dress that must weigh a ton without falling off your heels! Jon Hall is appropriate American Male and Sabu is, well, Sabu, and as a friend of mine recently said, "What were expecting? Long Day's Journey Into Night?" No, you won't find any deep meanings here, and thank heaven for it. This purely for the fun of it with no artistic ambitions and as many wild colors as Universal Studios could throw on the screen. So put your brain on hold, grab your cobra jewel, and settle down for some purely mindless pleasure! Gary F. Taylor, aka GFT, Amazon Reviewer

Cobra Woman was directed by Robert Siodmak just as he was embarking on his peerless string of black pearls: Phantom Lady, Christmas Holiday, The Strange Affair of Uncle Harry, The Suspect, The Spiral Staircase, The Killers, The Dark Mirror, Cry of The City, Criss Cross and The File on Thelma Jordon. And that's a bitter pill to swallow. The movie harks back to styles of moviemaking which the noir cycle, which Siodmak was so instrumental in creating, was putting blessedly to rest: To Saturday-matinee serials and boys' stories like Treasure Island, to South Seas excursions like Rain and Red Dirt and White Cargo, to gaudy, escapist musicals. And yet Cobra Woman achieves an almost solitary stature; only Vincente Minnelli's Yolanda and The Thief, from the following year, challenges its reputation as a movie so wildly overblown it's unhinged. There's little point in rehashing the plot, which centers on twins separated at birth: Tollea, a sweet native girl engaged to marry an American; and Naja, high-priestess of a snake cult that practices human sacrifice. Rightful heir Tollea is kidnaped so she can depose her evil sister and placate the Fire Mountain (a cheesy back-lot volcano). Supporting parts are taken by Jon Hall, Lon Chaney, Jr., Sabu and a loinclothed chimpanzee. A thickly-accented native of the Dominican Republic, Maria Montez plays, sensibly, both twins (giving Siodmak good practice for Olivia De Havilland's similar dual role in The Dark Mirror). Cobra Island, her domain, in its outlandish costumes and grandiose sets, puts to shame those elephants-and-all productions of Aida staged in the Baths of Caracalla; this Technicolor nightmare gives a sneak-preview, in its prurient take on pagan excess, the cycle of Biblical epics that were just down the road for Hollywood. But neither Cecil B. DeMille (in Samson and Delilah) nor Douglas Sirk (in Sign of the Pagan) nor Michael Curtiz (in The Egyptian) – nor even, for that matter, Minnelli (though he came closest) – could rival Siodmak's big set-piece: Naja/Montez performing the Cobra Dance. Clad in a snake-scale gown, she shimmies awkwardly for His Undulating Majesty himself, King Cobra, until he strikes at her (a mating gesture? Reptiles can be so ambiguous). She erupts into a frenzied spasm, hurling accusatory fingers at sacrificial victims who will then be made to climb the Thousand Steps to the angry maw of Fire Mountain. It would be reassuring to write off Cobra Woman as some sort of failed allegory, about Fifth Columnists, or Free French vs. Vichy, or something; but no such evidence exists. The movie is what it is, and utterly astonishing.

"No drug-fevered brain could dream up the horrors of Cobra Island!" But, apparently, two Universal Script-writers could. This immortal camp classic stars the sublime Maria Montez as twin sisters - one Good, one Evil. Considering La Montez could not even play one part convincingly, her dual role is something of a stretch. She may not be able to act, but she does look gorgeous trying. The action takes place on one of those Technicolor South Sea islands where a volcano is always rumbling, gongs are always banging for the next human sacrifice and a supremely irritating chimpanzee is always gambolling about in a pair of Paisley-pattern diapers. Lon Chaney Jr is on hand as a deaf-mute priest. Lucky man, he doesn't have to speak any of that dialogue! As the aged Cobra Queen, Mary Nash looks a tad bewildered. Wasn't it only yesterday she was playing Katharine Hepburn's mother in The Philadelphia Story? Lo, how the mighty are fallen! Sabu beams away in his role as Hollywood's favourite racist/colonial stereotype. Jon Hall spends his time looking for excuses to unbutton his shirt and show off his muscular chest. I for one am not complaining. Still, nothing and nobody can ever upstage our Maria. As the depraved sister Naja, she writhes about wickedly in her Cobra Dance - clad only in a floor-length silver lame evening gown, with matching silver f**k-me shoes. (Uncharted this island may be, but every drag-queen in the world seems to go shopping there.) And lest we in the audience harbour any lingering doubts about her acting skills, she follows up every speech with the deathless words - "I HAVE SPOKEN!" The insipid good sister Tollea really is no match. In this part, Maria does little more than pose beside the nearest pond or palm-tree - gazing into the Technicolor sunset and dreaming of better scripts. (Believe it or not, Jean Cocteau offered her the role of Death in his film Orpheus, but couldn't afford her fee!) Yet it's fascinating to see director Robert Siodmak sketching out the schizo psychology he would explore fully in films like The Spiral Staircase and The Dark Mirror. Appalling as much of it undoubtedly is, Cobra Woman may still be the greatest film of its kind...and if anyone can work out what 'kind' that is, please write and tell me.