The Bride of Frankenstein
Special-effects
Knipsels
The Bride of Frankenstein - promotiecampagne
over ‘John P. Fulton en The Bride of Frankenstein’
“Fulton enjoyed Whale’s cool professionalism. They were reunited in January of 1935 for The Bride of Frankenstein.
By this time, Fulton had Stan Horsley as a full-time assistant, and Horsley from that point did most of the optical
combining. For The Bride’s classic sequence of Pretorius’s bottled people, John Fulton designed the shots, Stan
Horsley put the dupe negative together with Fulton’s travelling mattes, and Charlie Baker provided the miniature and
full size bottles. The impeccably synchronised scene of Pretorius lifting the King out of the glass with a pair of
tweezers and swinging him in arc across the frame continues to startle audiences. Interestingly, MGM spent $75.000
that year building optical equipment for Devil Doll in an effort to duplicate what Fulton and Horsley had done with a
single-head printer and a reflection stand. ... Fulton had a way of feuding with first cameramen because he would
insist on having full control on the shooting of all process plates. ‘At times,’ said Horsley, ‘he would hardly let them
get a word in edgewise. He would ask whoever it was to politely find a chair on the side somewhere, and just sit!’ “
(Paul Mandell, Making Miracles The Hard Way: John P. Fulton, ASC in American Cinematographer, nr. 12, december
1983, pp. 42-52)
over ‘John P. Fulton’
“In late 1944, Samuel Goldwyn was preparing Wonder Man, a movie that would require some of the most ambitious
special optical effects ever seen. Danny Kaye was to play the dual role of identical twins, one of them a ghost, who
were often onscreen at the same time. Goldwyn persuaded Universal to let him borrow Fulton for the project (for a
very high fee to the studio), which had the added allure and challenge of being shot in Technicolor. The results of
Fulton’s work were astoundingly good, earning him his first Academy Award. In the process of working for Goldwyn,
Fulton was also persuaded to leave Universal upon the expiration of his contract in late 1945 and to sign with the
independent producer. His relationship with Goldwyn was a stormy one, however, partly owing to a conflict over his
career goals. Fulton had long desired to direct and produce movies, and to create effects for his own films, something
that Universal had never permitted him to do. Goldwyn had offered the prospect of Fulton directing for him, but once
he was signed to a contract, the mogul balked at following through. This was understandable, as Fulton’s real talent
lay in designing special-effects. He wasn’t suited by temperament or experience to command an entire film crew or
work with a cast. In addition, Goldwyn seldom (if ever) had more than one movie in production at a time and had no
shortage of experienced hands, from the workman-like Mark Robson on up to the renowned William Wyler (on whose
The Best Years of Our Lives Fulton worked). Goldwyn gave him what work he could, assigning Fulton second-unit
work on The Secret Life of Walter Mitty and The Bishop’s Wife, but it wasn’t enough; nor were the projects he worked
on for other producers through Goldwyn’s facilities, such as the special-effects on Tulsa. When his contract was up
for renewal in 1949, Fulton finally forced the issue by raising his proposed fee so high that Goldwyn would have to
use him as a director; instead, the mogul decided not to renew the contract. Fulton left Goldwyn and never got close
to directing a movie again.”
(Bruce Eder in All Movie Guide)
“It was Fulton’s dream to become and control the effects budget
through his own facility. This meant total creative control. ‘But,’ as
his daughter admits, ‘he didn’t have the personality to be a
director. He was rather dour and difficult. Generally, he didn’t
know how to work with people. Considering his genius, it was a
tragic situation.’ [...] John Fulton was not an organization man. He
could work harmoniously with a single individual, be it a James
Whale or Cecil B. De Mille, but he would continually lock horns
with bureaucracies and power people. Ironically, according to his
wife, Bernice, ‘he never seemed to feel that his trick work meant
anything, no matter what people told him.’ His carreer was best
summed up by former Universal production manager Wes
Thompson, a man who knew him well: ‘In shooting miniatures
and trick shots, the ability of the man in charge to know when
things are right are essential. John Fulton had that capability. He
was also very quick to point out areas that were not quite right on
the first rehearsal or take. As a department head, he was most
shrewd in the selection of manpower and surrounded himself with
the best men he could find in the business. Usually he delivered
on time and on budget. He also had the guts to challenge the
front office – the production department, as well as the producer
The Ten Commandments - John P. Fulton en
and director – and only let them see the film when he was ready
Cecil B. DeMille
to show it to them. A very capable man, Mr. John P. Fulton,
difficult to work with and for. More often than not, having a
penchant for doing things the hard way.”
(Paul Mandell, Making Miracles The Hard Way: John P. Fulton, ASC in American Cinematographer, nr. 12, december
1983, pp. 42-52)