The Ugly Duckling

(1959) Directed by Lance Comfort; Written by Sid Colin and Jack Davies; Story by Sid Colin; Based on the novella The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, by Robert Louis Stevenson; Starring: Bernard Bresslaw, Reginald Beckwith, Jon Pertwee, Maudie Edwards, Jean Muir and Michael Ripper; Available on Blu-ray and DVD. 

Rating: ***½

“…We are going to surprise audiences in this one. We are going to show them there’s something more to Bresslaw than the ‘Army Game’ idiot they used to know.” – Michael Carreras (Producer) 

“You couldn’t go out and strangle a blonde like your great, great grandfather, could ya? Oh no, you had to go and nick a quarter million quid’s worth of jewelry!” – Victor Jeckle (Jon Pertwee) 

First and foremost, a shout-out is in order for my terrific co-host, Gill Jacob from Realweegiemidget Reviews, for co-hosting our fifth edition of the Hammer-Amicus Blogathon! Once again, I’m honored to co-host and take part in this three-day (plus) event. Be sure to check out all the exceptional posts!

While Hammer’s horror films took the world by storm, their comedies remained largely unknown on these shores. Even today, Hammer is mostly known for its horror and suspense offerings, while the other genre offerings from the production house remain largely unknown outside of the U.K. and Europe. Shifting back to horror, it was only a matter of time before the fine folks at Hammer Films decided to tackle Robert Louis Stevenson’s classic novella, The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. In fact, Hammer liked the story so much, they’ve brought four film versions (as of this writing) to the big screen. Their first (and probably least known) adaptation was the comedy The Ugly Duckling,* a comic retelling of the familiar tale (one of the best gags, in the opening credits, proudly proclaims, “With ideas stolen from Robert Louis Stevenson”). 

* Fun Fact #1: The movie’s original title was Mad Pashernate Love (no wonder they changed it).

Bernard Bresslaw stars as the oafish but likeable Henry Jeckle,* great, great grandson of the infamous Dr. Henry Jekyll. Wherever he goes, disaster follows. Everyone, including his long-suffering older brother and sister, regard the well-meaning but clumsy and socially inept Henry with mild disdain. The only person in the world who seems to understand him is his friend Snout (Jean Muir), who might be more than a friend if he tried a little harder. After a ballroom dance gone awry, his sister Henrietta (Maudie Edwards) forbids him from accompanying his siblings to another event at their favorite club, but fate is about to intervene. In his spare time, he likes to dabble in potions, much like his infamous namesake. When one of his experiments predictably goes wrong, almost destroying his lab, he stumbles on an old formula from his great, great grandfather. He subsequently imbibes the concoction, transforming** into Teddy Hyde, a cocky yet suave alter-ego. The results are 180 degrees from his normal self: gone is the boyish curl on his forehead and perpetually bewildered expression, replaced by slicked back hair, a pencil mustache, and an overabundance of confidence.*** He returns to the club and kills it on the dance floor, catching the attention of a group of criminals led by the crooked dance hall manager Dandy (Elwyn Brook-Jones). Dandy and his men are planning a jewel heist, but the nearly impossible logistics of successfully pulling off the robbery is a major sticking point (Per Dandy’s henchman Fish, played by the always reliable Michael Ripper: “So all we want is a giant weightlifter who’s a tightrope walker, and an expert safecracker.”). Fate intervenes, with the answer standing right in front of them. 

* Why the filmmakers chose to change the surname for Jekyll’s descendants to “Jeckle” is anyone’s guess. To complicate matters, the pharmacy started by the doctor clearly bears the name “Jekyll,” as well as a portrait of the doctor. 

** Fun Fact #2: Hammer horror fans take note – the transformation music is none other than Dracula’s leitmotif by James Bernard, from the previous year’s Horror of Dracula (or just Dracula to those outside the States).  

*** Fun Fact #3: According to Marcus Hearne and Alan Barnes, Teddy Hyde was a riff on the “Teddy Boy” counterculture trend in vogue at the time.

While many considered Christopher Lee* to be the tallest performer working for Hammer, even he fell a bit short compared to Bernard Bresslaw,** who stood 6-feet, 7-inches. His lanky, towering frame ensured he was in high demand, among filmmakers in the U.K., including many appearances in the Carry On series of films (another cultural phenomenon largely unknown to Americans). Bresslaw seems to be having a great time, playing against the nerdy Henry as the suave Teddy. Teddy’s Id-driven persona is oddly liberating for Henry, who’s normally shackled by timidity and self-doubt. Of course, the premise requires more than a smidgen of suspension of disbelief from the audience. Similar to Clark Kent and Superman, Henry/Teddy manages to somehow pull the wool over everyone’s eyes (at least up to a point).   

* Fun Fact #5: Bresslaw was considered to play the monster in Curse of Frankenstein (1957), before he ultimately lost out to Christopher Lee. 

** Fun Fact #4: With 96 acting credits to his name, it’s a safe bet you’ve seen him in something. At least on these shores, he’s probably best known to filmgoers of a certain age as the morose Cyclops in Krull (1983).

The Ugly Duckling features some fine supporting performances by veteran character actors, including Henry’s older siblings, played by the man who would become Dr. Who, Jon Pertwee, as his pharmacist brother Victor, and Maudie Edwards as Henrietta. Reginald Beckwith amuses as Henrietta’s stuffy boyfriend Reginald (Regarding the burden of dealing with Henry’s many transgressions: “Could you send him away for a while? They say Australia is a nice place.”). Considering everyone else’s attitude towards Henry, Jean Muir provides a sympathetic counterpoint as Snout, a plucky member of the teen gang The Rockets. Despite Henry’s bumbling nature, she can’t help but have a soft spot for the big lug.

Far from an anomaly, The Ugly Duckling is one of many comedic interpretations of the enduring Robert Lewis Stevenson story, exploiting the possibilities of one actor playing two wildly contrasting personalities. The Bugs Bunny cartoon “Hyde and Hare” (1955), Jerry Lewis in The Nutty Professor (1963), or Mark Blankfield in the lesser-known Jekyll and Hyde, Together Again (1982), are just a few examples. Anyone with merely a passing familiarity with the source material will see the moral of the story a mile away (He had that other side within him all along, which in turn gives him the courage to be the best possible version of himself). As with many films, however, it’s not the story that’s original, but the journey. I went in with lowered expectations for The Ugly Duckling, not hearing much about it, and came out pleasantly surprised. Thanks to its breezy pace, witty dialogue and comic performance by Bresslaw, it’s a much more enjoyable take on Jekyll and Hyde than Hammer’s more straightforward, albeit pedestrian The Two Faces of Dr. Jekyll (1960). It would take another several years for Hammer to return with another unconventional interpretation (and my personal favorite), Dr. Jekyll and Sister Hyde (1971), belatedly followed by the modern Hammer offering Dr. Jekyll (2023). At this rate, it’s probably safe to assume this isn’t the last we’ve heard of Stevenson’s story. The Ugly Duckling works well within its modest goals. It made me smile, and I hope it will make you smile too. 

 

Sources for this article: The Hammer Story, by Marcus Hearn and Alan Barnes; “Bernard Bresslaw Gets a New Look,” Kinematograph Weekly (May 28, 1959)