jacobs-greenwood Co-produced and directed by Tod Browning, this above average silent crime drama was later remade as a sound picture with two members of the original cast, Lon Chaney and Harry Earles. Based on the novel by Tod Robbins, with scenario by Waldemar Young, Chaney plays Professor Echo, a ventriloquist, who teams with dwarf Earles, dubbed Tweedledee, and strongman Victor McLaglen, who's called Hercules, to scam unawares customers into buying parrots from their pet shop.Initially, all three were in a sideshow during which Echo used Rosie O'Grady (Mae Busch) to pickpocket its customers. After a police raid, Echo convinces Tweedledee and Hercules to join him, forming "The Unholy Three", who along with O'Grady and an innocent, unsuspecting employee Hector MacDonald (Matt Moore) set up shop.Echo uses his gift to make the parrots appear to talk to him, dressed as an old woman and pretending to be O'Grady's 'Granny', in order to fool their customers into paying high prices for the otherwise ordinary birds. Echo is therefore in charge of the trio though Tweedledee, who pretends to be an infant around others, later connives with the dimwitted Hercules to exclude Echo from a jewelry robbery on Christmas Eve, during which they kill Mr. Arlington (Charles Wellesley, uncredited), who'd been an unsatisfied parrot customer.The three then decide to pin the murder on their ignorant employee MacDonald, with whom Rosie had fallen in love, much to the dismay of Echo who'd wanted her for himself. However, the trio's mistrust of one another and a personal plea from Rosie, who'd been taken against her will to their mountain hideout, to Echo eventually unravels things. A pet shop gorilla figures in the outcome. The film effectively ends with MacDonald's trial, during which Echo uses his gift to satisfy an agreement with Rosie.Matthew Betz, who plays the detective, Edward Connelly, who plays the judge, William Humphrey, who plays MacDonald's defense attorney, and E. Alyn Warren, who plays the prosecuting attorney, also appear.

rdjeffers Sunday July 16, 5:00pm The Castro, San Francisco"That's all there is to life, friends – a little laughter . . . a little tear . . . "Between 1919 to 1929, Tod Browning and Lon Chaney produced ten films. The most visceral performance of the bunch can be found in Chaney's character, Alonzo the Armless from The Unknown (1927). As a cleverly conceived, perfectly executed, well paced story, fraught with tense moments and frightening circumstances, their third film, The Unholy Three (1925) is the one that made the franchise. Three carnival sideshow performers devise an ingenious front for their burglary ring. The leader, Professor Echo, the ventriloquist (Chaney), masquerades as 'Granny O'Grady' (That is one ugly old lady!), the owner of a bird shop. The carnival dwarf, Tweedledee (Harry Earles) poses as 'Little Willie', O'Grady's infant grandson, a maniacal, cigar smoking, bloodthirsty fiend dressed in baby cloths. The strongman Hercules (Victor McLaglen), a brainless brute is their obvious muscle. In their carnival scam, Rosie (Mae Busch) picks the pockets of unsuspecting onlookers and splits the loot with Echo. She comes along as O'Grady's granddaughter to run the store with Hector (Matt Moore), their clueless clerk. Rich customers buy birds never knowing Echo is actually speaking "Good morning auntie. Pretty Polly. Pretty lady!" When they call to complain, 'Granny' with 'Willie' in a pram go to investigate and case the home of their next victim. When Hercules and Tweedledee pull a job on their own and commit murder, Echo is outraged and spends the rest of the story repairing their damage.Echo is another example of the character Chaney most often played in Browning's films, a sympathetic man who shows his evil side, only to find some degree of redemption in the end. The climactic scene of The Unholy Three is the tense and suspenseful summit of the Browning/Chaney pairing. An investigating detective questions the trio in their cozy livingroom decorated for Christmas while the evidence is hidden in the baby's toy, "Cow! Cow!" Later, Browning employs effective camera trickery to make one ordinary element terrifying. The Unholy Three was also the only film Chaney ever re-made, as his first and only 'talkie', a testament to the films enduring popularity. The delightfully evil Earles, who went on to become a singing munchkin in The Wizard of Oz (1939) also appeared in the updated version.

DarthVoorhees Lon Chaney was one of the greatest actors who ever lived. He expresses more emotion in this movie with his facial expressions than many of the actors today can do with their voices. Chaney stars as Professor Echo,a sleazy carnival ventriloquist, who plans to pull off a crime that would make him and his two counterparts rich. Echo a master of voices will pose as an old lady, the sideshow midget named Tweedledee will be the baby, and Hercules the strongman will be a bystander. Together this team of unholy individuals open up a pet store which specializes in selling talking parrots. These birds talk and sing in the store but when the buyer brings them home they stop.A rich man named Arlington buys a parrot and calls "Old Lady Mcgrady" to come have a look at it. Tweedledee notices a red ruby necklace."Don't worry Grannie will buy you a nice set of red pearls like that" Echo's girlfriend Rosie is falling in love with Hector the employee at the store. Echo is beginning to lose his concentration and his partners plot against him. Hercules murders Arlington and after Hector proposes to Rosie Echo plans to frame him for the murder.Yes the plot is a bit silly at times but Chaney and his cast tell it with the utmost sincerity. Chaney's Echo is a sad character,not necessarily evil but selfish. His love for Rosie redeems him and his evil ways at the end of the movie. Chaney is one of the greats. He creates a vivid character. Man of a Thousand Faces is the correct title for him but here he doesn't need his make-up to create a face just his perfect acting skills.10/10

wmorrow59 When I was a kid I was an avid reader of Forrest J. Ackerman's Famous Monsters of Filmland magazine, and it was there I first heard about the director Tod Browning. He and his work were prominently featured in the pages of FM, where the (still missing) London After Midnight was often lamented as the Holy Grail of lost films. There were also frequent references to The Unholy Three in both its silent and talkie incarnations. It took me decades to finally catch up with the silent version, and my response is kind of schizo; objectively, I'm aware that in a number of ways it's absurd, and yet it's great fun, and highly entertaining. And the main reason the movie works so well, I believe, is the sheer charisma of Lon Chaney.Chaney and Browning worked together many times, but this was their biggest box office success. Despite the general impression to the contrary their collaborations were not exactly horror films. In fact, as far as I can determine not one of their movies featured any supernatural elements; even the vampire of London After Midnight turns out to be a police inspector in disguise. Most of the Browning/Chaney films are crime melodramas with bizarre details stirred into the mix, often involving people from the lowest rungs of show business, such as circuses and carnivals. Chaney's characters in these stories are often afflicted with an intense, unrequited passion for a young woman (most memorably and disturbingly in The Unknown), and his behavior and actions are affected by this obsession, usually to his disadvantage, sometimes fatally so.By the time The Unholy Three was produced Browning had developed his recurring themes and motifs into a highly effective, time-tested formula. His directorial technique is stylish in an unobtrusive way: for special emphasis he'll highlight shadows thrown on a wall, forming a silhouette of the three title characters, but otherwise he generally avoids flamboyant touches. With a story like this, he doesn't need them. The synopsis has been outlined elsewhere, but briefly it involves a trio of crooks from the sideshow world: Professor Echo the ventriloquist (Chaney) who disguises himself as an old lady, a strong man (Victor MacLaglen), and a midget (Harry Earles) who masquerades as a baby. A pet store serves as a front for their activities. The trio is actually is quintet, as they are accompanied by a thief named Rosie (Mae Busch) and a bespectacled patsy named Hector (Matt Moore) who is somehow oblivious that his employers are, well, not what they seem. Hector takes everything in stride. It's perfectly normal to him that the pet shop where he works offers not only birds and rabbits but also a dangerous gorilla in a big cage. So hey, if Hector takes it for granted, why shouldn't we? The plot turns on a jewel heist that goes awry, in part because of Prof. Echo's jealousy over Rosie. However, in this film the story is secondary to the sinister atmospherics.While it's Chaney's performance that drives the film the supporting cast is solid -- more so, I feel, than in the talkie remake -- and the characters' interactions have a "rightness" that persuades us to overlook numerous credibility issues. As in the best Hitchcock films, we're willing to ignore gaping plot holes in order to savor the set pieces. One of the most effective sequences features a police inspector who interrogates the trio in the wake of the jewel heist. He's unaware that the jewels he seeks are inside a toy elephant at his feet, a toy that supposedly belongs to the "baby." The scene is suspenseful and funny, and, for me, the sight of Harry Earles disguised as a baby is almost as creepy as anything in an out-and-out horror movie.The unlikely twists increase to the point of craziness in the final scenes, yet the story follows the consistent internal logic of a deeply weird dream. It's no surprise this was such a big hit in its day. I was fortunate enough to see a newly restored print of this film at the Museum of Modern Art this summer, back to back with the talkie remake. The silent version in particular went over quite well, though admittedly there were chuckles when a title card glibly announces the outcome of Prof. Echo's trial. Afterward in the lobby viewers were enthusiastic about the film, and about Lon Chaney. Seventy-five years after his death audiences are still impressed with his magnetism. So here's a tip of the hat to Forry Ackerman, who saw the Browning/Chaney films when they were new, and was right about this one all along!