“…as haunting to superstitious minds as a ghost…as inevitable as a guilty conscience…”

There are going to be a good many Shadow fans that will react to the James W. Horne serial The Shadow (1940) like an allergic-to-strawberries-rash…but since this is my blog, I’m here to tell you I’m not one of them.  I personally think, after watching all fifteen chapters, that Shadow is one of the best Columbia cliffhangers I’ve seen (keep in mind that I have oodles and oodles of their serial product to go through) even though it’s derived more from the pulp stories than the radio show (for instance, the Shadow can’t cloud men’s minds to make himself invisible…but the villain of the piece can with a narrow beam of light)…and to be completely honest, the plot is straight out of The Spider’s Web (1938).

You have a metropolis menaced by a mysterious, masked villain called the Black Tiger (in Web, it’s the Octopus) who seeks to take over all of the city’s industries by terrorizing its powers-that-be.  The hero is a scientist/criminologist whose secret identity as The Shadow (in Web, it’s the Spider) gets him in Dutch with both the authorities (who suspect that he and the Black Tiger are one and the same) and the underworld.  Naturally, to keep tabs on the underworld he must don another disguise (in Web, it’s Blinky McQuade): that of Lin Chang, an Asian antiquities dealer.  (Let me just say that those of you horrified by Sidney Toler or Peter Lorre’s performances as Asians need to take a gander at star Victor Jory’s Lin Chang—a character that makes Charlie Chan and Mr. Moto the very picture of political correctness.)  He is assisted by his confederates, Margo Lane (played by Veda Ann Borg…who I actually like in this part, even though I usually associate Borg with floozy roles) and Harry Vincent, Cranston’s wheel-man (played by Roger Moore…and not the one you’re thinking of).  If I had to nitpick, I wished someone had eliminated the Vincent character—popular in the pulp stories—and substituted Moe “Shreevy” Shrevnitz instead.  (“You was wantin’ somethin’, Mr. Cranston, you was wantin’?”)

However, the major difference between Web and Shadow is that the latter refuses to take itself too seriously—the goons working for the Black Tiger are among the most inept henchmen in serial history, which provides some wonderfully comic moments; my favorite is in Chapter 9—“The Devil in White”—when the Tiger’s chief henchman, Flint (played by TDOY fave Jack Ingram) tells his fellow thugs: “Now listen, men…we’ve got to do something—he’s really gettin’ mad!”  (I know it doesn’t play funny in print, but Ingram’s performance has a sort of “Will you guys stop pissing around?” quality to it.)  Much has also been said about the uninventiveness of the cliffhangers, a goodly portion of which consist of the ceiling falling down on Cranston/Shadow at each episode’s end.  Sure, this is undeniably funny and off-putting to those who shun comedy in serials…but I like how these events act as violent comic punch lines, similar to Wile E. Coyote tumbling off a cliff or Daffy Duck getting his face shot off by Elmer Fudd.  By contrast, the thugs in the Spider serials (well, Web, anyway) are pretty ruthless customers, despite the fact that they can’t seem to hit the broadside of a barn.  (The speculation on this is that the serial’s producers were ordered to downplay the violence as a result of rulings by the Hays Office.)

But the strengths of Shadow are many, chiefly Jory’s performance in the title role.  (He not only has a great voice, he can do the Shadow's laugh...which is more than Orson Welles could ever do.)  Jory was apparently banished to this serial by the studio for some slight or troublemaking he caused, and it’s a shame that Columbia didn’t punish him more often because he really grabs hold of the role and refuses the temptation to do shtick with it (he reminds me a bit of Basil Rathbone, who would have been the ideal choice to play the Shadow though that would in all likelihood not have happened).  I also like the serial’s brisk pacing; despite its fifteenth-chapter length it never gets boring (this might be due to the fact that director Horne would often direct scenes of people running or driving in slightly sped-up fashion…or as Laughing Gravy so memorable put it, “People moving as if their asses were on fire”)—and the effective atmospheric backdrop of a city under siege by sinister forces is grade-A. Though the identity of the villain is pretty easy to dope out, the ride there is nothing short of entertaining.

”The weed of crime bears bitter fruit…crime does not pay…”

It starts with ominous, spooky organ music—Saint-Saens’ “Omphale’s Spinning Wheel”—followed by a sinister laugh, then an otherworldly, electric voice: “Who knows…what evil…lurks…in the hearts of men…”

The Shadow knows…

My introduction to old-time radio’s most famous fictional crimefighter occurred nearly twenty-five years ago, when Ohio University’s college/public radio station (WOUB-FM) broadcast his spine-tingling adventures on Monday nights at 10:30pm. (The show was called, amusingly enough, Monday Night at the Radio.) I would have one ear glued to the radio and the other glued to the hallway lest my father burst in and read me the riot act for violating my 9:30 bedtime curfew. It was great fun.

But The Shadow’s Golden Age of Radio origins go much further back—to a series called The Detective Story Hour, which debuted over CBS on July 31, 1930. Sponsored by magazine publisher Street and Smith, the program was intended to publicize their popular Detective Story pulp. The gimmick of “The Shadow,” the unseen host and narrator of the show, was just that and nothing more. But listeners took to the Shadow almost immediately, so much so that a new magazine featuring the character was put into production—the first novel-length story being composed by Walter Gibson, a freelance writer who would, beginning with the first issue in April 1931, crank out the equivalent of 280 novels (under his pen name, Maxwell Grant).

By 1932, the Shadow had been kicked upstairs from his host-narrator status to a full-fledged participant in the stories that were broadcast, and in the fall of 1937, the series best remembered by OTR fans got underway. A then-unknown Orson Welles took on the role of Lamont Cranston—a wealthy young gadabout who learned a strange hypnotic power while in the Orient: he was able to “cloud men’s minds so that they cannot see him.” (It’s been said before, but The Shadow seemed at times the perfect hero for radio—not only could people not see him, but when you get right down to it, neither could we.) Welles departed after one season since he had bigger fish to fry—he was currently doing his celebrated Mercury Theater on the Air program for CBS. (Later, he would dabble in film with a little movie called Citizen Kane. Perhaps you may have heard of it.)

Actor Bill Johnstone took over the role of the Shadow in 1938, and stayed with it for five years—and it’s Johnstone who, in my mind, was the crème de la crème of all the Shadow actors. He is joined by actress Marjorie Anderson (playing Margo Lane, Cranston’s “constant friend and companion…the only person who knows to whom the voice of the invisible Shadow belongs…”) in a special Christmas episode from December 24, 1939: “The Stockings Were Hung.”

In a script written by Peter Barry (which owes a good deal to a certain Christmas tale by Charles Dickens), Lamont and Margo have just left Margo’s apartment and are on their way to pick up some Christmas food baskets that she plans to deliver. She insists on stopping by to say “hidy” to her favorite paperboy:

MARGO: There’s Spike on the corner…

LAMONT: Busy little man, isn’t he?

MARGO: I always give him five dollars for Christmas…

LAMONT: In spite of all you’ve said about organized charity? Giving one isolated newsboy five dollars…

MARGO: Oh, but Lamont…this is different…I should say it’s different—it isn’t even Spike…

GABBY: Paper, Mister? Paper?

LAMONT: Why yes…the young lady would like a paper to cover her new hat…if you can call that Christmas tree ornament a hat…

MARGO: Where’s Spike Grover?

GABBY: Ah, Spike’s got family trouble…he’s a pal of mine, Spike is…tells me everything…he knows I can keep a secret…

MARGO: Family trouble?

GABBY: Well, it’s very confidential…you see, Spike and his sister Janie…you see, they haven’t got any mother, they only got a father and you see…now don’t tell anybody, but Spike’s grandfather owned the Grover Importin’ Company…

LAMONT: Whoa…whoa…wait a minute, you’re way ahead of me…

GABBY: Now, look…Spike’s grandfather owned the Grover Importin’ Business…and Spike’s name is Grover…so Spike and his father should own the Grover Importin’ Business and…well, it seems that there’s a fella named Jordan, worked for Spike’s grandfather…and the way I figure it, this fella Jordan put the snatch on the whole business…

MARGO: Did what?

GABBY: Lady, you wouldn’t understand…I was just tellin’ this gentleman here…as far as I can figure, this old miser named Jordan steals the whole business right out from under Spike’s father’s nose…so a couple of days ago, Jordan fires Spike’s father from his own business, mind you…ain’t that awful?

LAMONT: But where is Spike?

MARGO: And where’s his father?

GABBY: Lady, if I knew that I’d tell Spike…

LAMONT: Well, where does he live?

GABBY: He lives in the old house down on South and 7th Street…

LAMONT: And what’s your name, son?

GABBY: They call me “Gabby”…but you know, I could never figure out why…

Gabby is portrayed by a very young Keenan Wynn, son of famed comedian Ed Wynn, miles away from the many films he would appear in as a polished character actor. Keenan also takes on the role of Louie, a cab driver who is hired by Lamont that evening to run errands while he and Margo search for Spike’s father. Louis is a funny character who has a habit of repeating himself—and the voice Wynn uses for the cabbie is very similar to that of another hack, Moe (Shrevie) Shrevnitz, who became a semi-regular on The Shadow as well.

While Margo is delivering her baskets, Lamont stops by the Grover house to find a little girl (Janie) who is upset because she doesn’t have the proper ingredients to make Christmas cookies. He reassures her that they’ll locate her father, and gives her some money in order to procure the items she needs for the cookies. Margo and Lamont then meet up with Spike outside the house, who confesses that he’s reluctant to go to the police about his missing father—Simon Jordan (John McIntire), the man who has stolen the family business, has threatened to have him arrested for allegedly cooking the company’s books.

Lamont makes inquiries to the police about Spike and Janie’s father, but nothing turns up. Spike goes to the Grover Importing Company and confronts Jordan about his father—and the despicable miser viciously canes the boy as a result. Spike returns home and has his wounds attended to by Margo—and while she and Spike embark on a trek down the avenue on Christmas Eve (something Mr. Grover did with his wife and children every year), Lamont (as the Shadow) pays Simon Jordan a visit…

JORDAN (evil chuckle) Well, I guess I can close the books for the night…I’ve had a good year… (SFX: bell on front door rings) Who’s there? Hmm…no one…well, I guess I’ll give myself a Christmas present of a new latch for the door…that Grover brat must have left it open…he’s too smart, that boy…well, you don’t have to worry about any Grovers ever again, Simon Jordan (evil chuckle)…Simon Jordan…ah, that’s going to look fine in new gilt letters on the door instead of Grover’s Importing Company…heh, you’re pretty slick, Simon Jordan (evil chuckle)…these books are fixed so cleverly that even the Supreme Court couldn’t tell Simon Jordan didn’t own this company…(He begins an evil laugh, and is joined in his glee by another evil laugh)…hey…hey, what was that? Who said that?

SHADOW: No one said anything, Simon Jordan…I was just enjoying your joke with you…

JORDAN: And where are you? I can hear your voice…

SHADOW: Of course you can hear my voice, Simon Jordan…but you can’t see me…I’m in the shadows…the shadows of your mind…

JORDAN: Go away! Go away from me!

SHADOW: I thought you might be lonely…

JORDAN: No, no, I’m not…go on, go away!

SHADOW: I came to ask you about the Grovers…

JORDAN: Eh? What do you know about the Grovers?

SHADOW: Enough, Simon Jordan…enough to know that your altered books would not fool the Supreme Court…

JORDAN: Eh? You’re…you’re…not a spirit, are you?

SHADOW: In a sense, yes…I try to represent the spirit of honesty and justice…and when Simon Jordan beats a child with his cane—steals from the father of that child like a low sneaking thief…then I must talk to Simon Jordan…

JORDAN: I’m not a thief!

SHADOW: No…I should not disgrace thieves by calling you one of them…

JORDAN: Eh?

SHADOW: You’re a man too mean to be a thief, Jordan…what do you want from this world?

JORDAN: None of your business what I want!

SHADOW: I’ll tell you…you want money, nothing but money…I feel sorry for you, Simon…

JORDAN: Oh…

SHADOW: I’m going to go now…but I want to leave one thought with you…

JORDAN: Eh?

SHADOW: You’re an old man…you don’t have much longer to live…

JORDAN: What?

SHADOW: All your life’s work…is your money…it’s rather an empty victory, isn’t it? You’re alone in the world…your money doesn’t do anyone any good, Simon Jordan…but you can rest easy in your shriveled soul…because the Grovers will be taken care of…the Shadow will take care of them…

JORDAN (voice trembling): The Shadow?

After scaring the eggnog out of the old skinflint, Lamont meets up with Margo and Spike along the avenue, and Spike mentions that the last stop he and his father would make in their traditional Christmas walk is at an old cathedral. Sure enough, they discover Mr. Grover (Kenny Delmar) inside, praying—he has suffered a loss of memory due to a collision with a truck, and they bring him home to be reunited with his children. Margo and Lamont have arranged for some Christmas gifts for the family—and even Simon Jordan, now fully repentant, comes by with hat in his hand to tell Grover that there was a mistake in the books and that he’s still a full partner in the company.

LAMONT: Well, Margo…earlier tonight…we disagreed on our interpretation of charity…silly, wasn’t it?

MARGO: I know what you mean, Lamont…

LAMONT: There should never be a thing called charity…there should never have been the necessity to create the word…in this short span we call our lives…if each man would only realize that every other man has dreams and hopes…this world wouldn’t be a topsy-turvy place…then peace on earth would be a fact…goodwill would be for every man…

“The Stockings Were Hung” is a nice change-of-pace episode for The Shadow, whose usual fare consisted of more blood-and-thunder melodrama. Bret Morrison took over the role in 1943, and with the exception of a couple of actors during the war years, remained the invisible scourge of the underworld until the series left the air in December of 1954. (To his credit, Morrison probably sounded the closest to a wealthy playboy than any of the other actors; it’s unfortunate that by the time he took on the part, the show and its scripts had become a bit formulaic and repetitious.) From a modern-day standpoint, the program is considered high-camp among collectors—but if you listened to it in your younger days, the great feeling of nostalgia and wonderment is liable to wipe away whatever unintentional humor is present.