The Mad Genius

Synopsis: A crippled puppeteer rescues an abused young boy and turns the boy into a great ballet dancer. Complications ensue when, as a young man, the dancer falls in love with a young woman the puppeteer is also in love with.
Genre: Drama, Horror, Romance
Director(s): Michael Curtiz
Production: Warner Bros.
 
IMDB:
6.5
UNRATED
Year:
1931
81 min
32 Views


1

Not so high on your left string.

Faster. One, two, three.

One, two, three.

Careful. They are virgins.

The applause is deafening.

Applause? I don't hear any.

I've been having a little trouble

with my ears, lately though.

I took some pills for it but

they didn't work very well.

Well, probably you didn't

put them in the right place.

Use your imagination.

Wood.

[ Loud scream! ]

Stop .. stop ..

What you do?

You stay home!

Bring down the curtain.

I'll teach you.

You come home at once.

Fedor! Fedor, what you do?

Fedor!

Come back here, I tell you.

Come back here.

Fedor. Come back here.

Fedor. I'll break every bone in your body.

You devil!

Where do you hide from me?

If he is, the devil must

be a mountain goat.

He runs just like one, doesn't he.

At least I imagine he does.

I've never met a mountain

goat personally.

Oh, what legs he has for dancing.

Look at him .. like a deer.

Where are you going,

you good-for-nothing?

Come back here! I charge you!

Quick. Out of sight with him.

Fedor.

I'll break every bone in your body.

Fedor .. Fedor!

Good evening.

Where goes that boy?

What boy?

He just run in. You must have seen him.

I'm sorry. Karimsky.

Yes, sir?

Have you seen a strange

boy around here tonight?

Tonight? No.

On Friday night there was a strange boy.

He was quite an old fellow though.

We've seen no boy. You must be mistaken.

He's here, I tell you.

Oh, my dear friend. Look for yourself.

He's away from home. With what?

Hidden him safely?

I'll be lucky if I can

find him again myself.

He must be some place.

Ah, but my friend,

there are so many places.

Fedor. Fedor. Fedor!

Come to me. Where are you?

I'll kill you when I find you.

What the devil are we

going to do with that boy?

Pack up quick! We get out.

Bring me that.

Here.

Quick.

Simon!

Yes, Vladimir.

Hitch up the horses.

Come on. Your fingers are like feet.

Close it up.

Now go to sleep, Fedor.

Go to sleep. Don't worry about anything.

Yes, not a bad name for a dancer.

A dancer?

That's what I said.

Nature fashioned him for that.

Thighs like steel, yet plastic.

That's the body I should have had.

With my soul.

A dancer's soul.

The heritage of my mother.

Your mother?

Ah, you never saw her dance.

Like a bit of thistle-down.

She used to say to me "Ivan .. "

"You have more than I.

You have the genius."

Genius? Pah!

It's been a curse to me.

A nightmare.

Twist my dreams with torment.

It's strange you know ..

The dream I always had.

Ever since I was a little boy.

A great, shining figure.

White and beautiful.

Would come to me with wings.

Big, shimmering wings.

And put them on my back.

And beckon me.

And when I start to fly.

Oh, so happy.

My heart would almost break.

A great claw ..

Grasped my foot.

Pulled me down.

Down into the swamp.

Black, bubbling.

And I'd scream and wake.

Aye, it was a very pretty little dream.

You gives me the creeps

when you talk like that, Ivan.

Yeah, I make my own

blood run cold my friend.

When I think of what I might have been.

And what I am.

Making little wooden dolls dance.

For simple peasants.

And I should be ..

Don't look like that, Ivan.

Have you ever heard of the Golem?

Made of mud.

And given a human soul.

Of Frankenstein.

The monster created by man.

Or the homunculus.

The pale being. The product of science.

These are all dreams.

Brought to life by mortals.

I will create my own being.

That boy.

That boy will be my counterpart.

He shall be what I should have been.

I will mould him.

I will poor into him my genius.

My soul.

In him, all my dreams ..

All my ambitions ..

Will be fulfilled.

I will make him.

The greatest dancer of all time.

Stop! Time.

Wrong, wrong. Do it all over again.

You are out of line. The effect is lost.

Come on.

It is all wrong!

We have to do it all over again.

Just what I would have said.

You've got to watch that there,

with the way you've got those ..

Lines .. all crooked.

Do it all over again. You want to

want to watch that rhythm, too.

Ahh!

Now, bear that in mind.

Ready.

One .. two ..

I beg your pardon, sir.

Count Renaud is here.

I hope I'm not disturbing you, Tsarakov.

My dear friend, you are far too

rich ever to disturb anybody.

Sit down.

That premier dancer of yours hardly

shares your opinion, I'm afraid.

Every time I come here to the theatre

lately, he watches me like a cat.

You mean Fedor?

Look at him now.

He's stopped dancing.

Why shouldn't he?

It's the end of his number.

That wasn't the case last night.

He stopped right in the

middle of the show.

Oh, he's nervous my friend. You don't

understand the artistic temperament.

If you had seen him ten years ago,

you'd say it was a miracle.

Just a disjointed little bag of bones.

Really?

Nothing to recommend him at all ..

But his mad ambition to dance.

I made that ..

Magnificent specimen you see there.

Just as surely as God made this world.

That little girl over there. Nana Carlova.

She's worthwhile.

Hmm. But a little beyond

anyone's reach I'm afraid.

Oh, that reminds me my dear friend.

She .. wishes to return your gift.

Oh. Didn't she like it?

She's not used to getting

such expensive presents.

They frighten her.

Besides, the design

is very crude, my friend.

Something more simple, maybe?

There could be nothing more simple.

Than giving diamond

bracelets to Nana Carlova.

I have no sentimental value.

For Nana's virtue, but ..

As it happens, she is reserved for Fedor.

Fedor?

Hmm.

He seems to like her, so I have

arranged that he shall have her.

Just as I've arranged that he should

have every other woman he wanted.

I don't understand you, Tsarakov.

My dear Count.

An artist must have his relaxation.

He must be inspired by

many beautiful women.

Nana! Your cue.

Don't stand around and gab. Your cue.

What an old wolf you are.

Suppose he falls in love with

one of those beautiful women?

For a man like you,

there is nothing wrong with it.

For an artist, it is fatal.

He must have his whole soul,

his whole being in his art.

Nothing else.

Nana seems to take up

a great deal of his time.

As long as he's happy, I'm satisfied.

Don't disturb him, my friend.

Then I suppose, I am just

to burn up with desire.

There are so many other

ladies, my dear Count.

To the devil with the other ladies.

That's exactly what I am suggesting.

But not Nana Carlova.

Fedor, please.

Let's go.

Good evening, Maestro.

You're a hard worker, huh?

Thanks.

You are new, aren't you?

I haven't seen you about.

What's your name?

Olga Chekova.

Ah.

You want to be a ballet dancer?

Yes.

Do you want to be a great ballet dancer?

Yes.

Come to my office. Three o'clock.

Oh no! What are you doing here?

Standing around?

Come back to your places. Quick!

We'll have to do it again.

What's the matter, Serge?

You look tired.

Oh ..

Nana .. you're the only

one that worries about me.

The others drive me crazy.

Look at them. Stepping on each

other's feet while they are dancing.

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J. Grubb Alexander

Joseph Grubb Alexander (December 25, 1887 – January 11, 1932) was an American screenwriter of the silent era. He wrote for 98 films between 1916 and 1932. He was born in Scranton, Pennsylvania, to Joseph and Florence Grubb Alexander. His father was from Scotland and his mother was the daughter of Capt. Evan P. Grubb, a Civil War veteran. Joseph died from pneumonia in Los Angeles, California at the age of 44, and is buried at Hollywood Forever Cemetery. more…

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Submitted on August 05, 2018

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