Adapted from the gripping limited series now streaming on CIRCUS™
It was in the summer of ‘46 that the Hollywood-That-Was began to sink into the ravenous bog upon which it had been built.
The first house to slope away into the swamp was Universal. That hallowed, golden palace, which had served as Frankenstein’s tomb and Dracula’s castle alike, found its frightful figures of fear no longer welcome in the world of wartime horror. Shock rippled across the whole of its halls, shaking loose skeletons and spider-webs, but there was no point in resisting the truth—the terror unleashed by the Axis had made tales of the undead unpalatable for the general public. Horror in the post-War world would hereafter be gilded or gelded by comedy, or else forced to retreat into the realm of thrillers, noir, and mysteries—and soon, even those came under threat.
This was demonstrated aptly when that dreary-hot summer saw Universal release a 13-chapter film serial, The Mysterious Mr. M. A pulse-pounding chiller of epic proportions, M’s plot featured master criminal Anthony Waldron’s return from his supposed death in Africa as the head of a conspiracy that sought control of a super-powered submarine. In order to keep up the illusion that he was dead, Waldron posed as a fictitious mastermind, Mr. M, when making his demands. However, this piqued the ire of a real crime-lord called Mr. M, who took control of Waldron’s operation by threatening to expose him. Thus was Waldron caught between the twin menaces of the harsh-whispering Mr. M and the forces of law and order, with the latter represented ably by serial monarch Dennis Moore and reliable he-man Richard Martin. Waldron had a secret weapon in the form of hypnotreme, a serum capable of erasing memories and creating perfect trances. He used this to control his elderly grandmother, under whose house he was hiding—and in the film’s most gut-wrenching scenes, he even managed to turn the heroes, who were all trusted friends, against each other, so irresistible was hypnotreme’s influence.
That dramatic, convention-twisting premise wasn’t what really mattered about M. No, the most vital part was the announcement that came with its release: Universal was leaving the serial picture business. After 32 long, glorious years of producing chapterplays, they were stepping down, leaving just two studios—Republic and Columbia—in the business of making such films. The three-decade tradition saw Universal make a whopping 137 serials. Even if they each averaged just 12 episodes a serial, that meant they’d created over 1,600 cliffhanger capers for Americans to enjoy all across the nation. Now it was all over. No dough in the horror game anymore, it was said, nor in the majority of its neighbors—and that stuff was always at the core of the serials, behind the gadgets and flashy action. Mystery villains, hands in the dark, sinister betrayals…
“All over…” muses the lonely man, pacing back and forth. “It can’t be—it can’t be all over…”
