The Devil Bat

Once a film sinks into the quicksand of Public Domain, meaning the original copyright owner’s rights have expired, you can pretty much forget about ever seeing a decent copy of it again. Walmart bargain bins are chock full of 20, 30 even 100 movie collections containing pitiful transfers of poor neglected films that are essentially sold into cinematic slavery. Most companies would never bother to remaster and re-release a movie that has already flooded the market with shoddy copies. But Kino Classics does just that with 1940’s The Devil Bat, a PRC title commonly referred to as “poverty row” horror flick starring Bela Lugosi in a mad scientist revenge story.

Lugosi, still quite marketable at this point in his career, plays a bitter cosmetics inventor who sold off his interest in the company and never reaped the financial rewards his partners enjoyed. His revenge comes in the form of an oversized bat trained to kill anyone wearing a special aftershave lotion. After the bizarre murders attract national attention, Lugosi is forced to protect his secret by sending out his flying, furry hitman to silence a nosy reporter and his photographer sidekick.

While it doesn’t have the style or budget of Universal’s similar horror franchises, there’s still a lot to like about director Jean Yarbrough’s cheapie effort. It certainly makes the most of Lugosi’s sinisterly sympathetic performance, even if his master plan is more than a little far-fetched. The actor was so much more than just a memorable accent, and The Devil Bat gives him plenty of interesting back-and-forth with the cast.

The killer bat itself is humorously phony. Looking like a flying shag carpet when airborne and a deep-fried turkey the rest of the time, it emits a creepy shriek right before it attacks, a sound-effect the film uses quite well. Although likely not even convincing when it was made, The Devil Bat is a hoot to watch now as a fine example of what Lugosi was still capable of bringing to a production…even if said production was several levels the usual studio standards.

Kino’s blu-ray is sourced from archivist Bob Furmanek’s 35mm print, likely the same one used for Legend’s DVD a few years back. It’s far from pristine, full of the usual white speckling, but altogether extremely easy on the eyes and ears compared to what fans’ previous options have been. There’s no doubt that this is the best The Devil Bat has ever – and probably will ever – look on home video. And to sweeten the pot, film historian Richard Harland Smith delivers an info-packed commentary.