King of the Zombies (1941) – Review

It’s hard to believe that at one time the zombie genre didn’t exist and that the “zombie” was just one of the lesser-utilized monsters populating the horror genre. Universal’s White Zombie with Bela Lugosi was one of the rare movies that took the subject matter somewhat seriously, which was definitely not the case with King of the Zombies, a film that played the zombies for laughs long before Edgar Wright and Simon Pegg took to the scene.

The plot of King of the Zombies follows a group of characters who are stranded after their plane crashes on a remote Caribbean Island, this consists of Intelligence Agent Bill Summers (John Archer), pilot James “Mac” McCarthy (Dick Purcell) and Bill’s servant Jefferson Jackson (Manton Moreland) who find themselves lost in bad weather while flying over the West Indies. When they intercept a radio signal from an island below them they decide to make an emergency/crash landing and after miraculously surviving a rather violent landing they seek refuge in a mansion inhabited by Dr. Miklos Sangre (Henry Victor).  This rather imposing man claims to be an Austrian refugee and he lives on the island with his catatonic wife Alyce (Patricia Stacey) and niece Barbara Winslow (Joan Woodbury). Soon we have zombies wandering around the kitchen, phantom women disappearing down hidden passageways and a mad scientist conducting bizarre experiments involving mind control and zombies. As the plot unfolds, the protagonists uncover a plot involving the kidnapping of Admiral Wainwright (Guy Usher) and the use of local voodoo superstition to create an army of biddable “zombie” servants.

This is how you avoid the minimum wage laws.

From a critical standpoint, King of the Zombies is a mixed bag. On one hand, it offers a fascinating glimpse into the cinematic conventions of the era, with its low-budget production values and reliance on stock characters and situations, but on the other, we have performances that range from hammy to wooden, with Mantan Moreland’s portrayal of the comic relief valet providing the film’s most memorable moments. Moreland’s character, though steeped in racial stereotypes typical of the time, manages to inject energy and humour into an otherwise formulaic narrative. However, the film’s treatment of race is undeniably problematic by today’s standards and may make some viewers uncomfortable. African American characters like Jeff were often relegated to comedic roles and portrayed as superstitious and cowardly—a reflection of the pervasive racism of the period. While Moreland’s performance is undeniably charismatic, it’s difficult to overlook the racial caricatures that pervade the film.

Moreland is the one bright spot in an otherwise formulaic film.

Stray Observations:

• The role of Dr. Miklos Sangre was designed for Bela Lugosi who had starred in White Zombie, sadly, he wasn’t available so we got stuck with this low-rent villain.
• Mac and Bill overhear a foreign language on their radio but are too dim to realize that the language is German, which in the 1940s would have been quite recognizable by just about anyone let alone a government agent.
• The plot of this film deals with a “secret agent for a European government” but the script tactically avoids the mention of Germans or Nazis. America hadn’t entered the war yet and the German market was still important to studios.
• Jefferson Jackson states “Were there’s light there’s hope. I need all the hope I can dig up tonight.” This could be a nod to Bob Hope and his appearance in the horror comedies The Cat and the Canary and The Ghost Breakers.
• While a zombie, Mac is shot several times at point-blank range by Dr. Sangre but we later learn he is fine. Bill states “Those bullets didn’t help him any, he’ll need little patching up when the Coast Guard Cutter gets here, but he says he raring to go again.” This is kind of amazing, also incredibly stupid.

Who knew hypnotism makes you unkillable?

This film was initially to be a straight-up horror/thriller but with the success of the Bob Hope and Paulette Goddard horror/comedy The Ghost Breakers the original director was replaced with Jean Yarbrough, who had prior experience directing comedies, and the character of Jeff Jackson was added to the script with Monogram’s premier comedy relief actor Mantan Moreland to play the part. After watching the film it’s safe to say that he’s the star of the picture as Moreland has more screen time than the supposed leading man and his scenes with Dr. Sangre’s black maid (Marguerite Whitten) are easily the film’s best moments. Their back and forth banter injected life into what was an otherwise fairly dull script.

The true stars of this film.

In terms of its horror elements, King of the Zombies offers little in the way of genuine scares. The zombies themselves are more comical than menacing, with their stiff movements and blank expressions failing to evoke the sense of dread found in later iterations of the walking dead. The film’s reliance on voodoo mythology as a plot device also feels dated and clichéd, lacking the psychological depth and social commentary found in more sophisticated horror films.  The fact that the zombies are simply duped locals subjected to Sangre’s hypnotism certainly doesn’t help matters much. What is odd is that we also have Dr. Sangre planning to get the information from the Admiral via something called “transmigration” where the soul of one person could be transferred into the body of another, which is about as ridiculous as the concept of raising the dead. You either try and explain away magic with bullshit science or embrace the actual horror element, this film fails to do either.

Failing to have your cake and eating it too.

Despite its flaws, King of the Zombies remains an intriguing artifact of its time—a window into the anxieties and preoccupations of 1940s America. Its blend of horror, comedy and wartime propaganda offers a unique perspective on the cultural landscape of the era, even as its racial stereotypes and simplistic storytelling serve as a reminder of the progress yet to be made in Hollywood representation. As a piece of cinematic history, King of the Zombies is worthy of study and analysis, but as a standalone film, it fails to leave a lasting impression beyond its quaint nostalgia.