
The tenth screen adaptation of Robert Louis Stevenson’s classic 1886 novella The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde had its first preview in late July 1941 and grand première 12 August 1941. Despite some reservations about certain aspects of the film, it generally got overall good reviews, and was nominated for three Oscars.
The wider public had more of a mixed reaction, which is borne out by the critical assessments it’s had ever since. Unlike the versions which came before, most notably the 1920 adaptation with John Barrymore and the Oscar-winning 1931 version with Frederic March, this production had to contend with the strict Puritanical stranglehold that was the Hays Code. Thus, the complex moral dilemmas with no easy answer and sexual content had to be toned way down.

The makeup used for the Hyde character was way less grotesque than in other versions, and the story became more of a quiet psychological study of the duality of human nature. Plus, Spencer Tracy wasn’t a horror actor, and never made any other films in this genre. I’m far from the only classic film fan who enjoys his work yet can’t really think of a standout signature role he and only he could’ve played instead of any other actor. His nine pairings with Katharine Hepburn work so well because of their chemistry together, not because of anything he did individually. A dual role like this, particularly one so iconic, really needed an actor with a more unique presence.
Originally, Tracy wanted Hepburn, whom he hadn’t yet met, to play both virtuous Beatrix and fallen woman Ivy, with a later big reveal of them as one and the same. Then Ingrid Bergman was cast as Beatrix, but she was sick to the back teeth of constantly playing sweet, saintly characters, and begged director Victor Fleming to let her switch roles with Lana Turner. She got her wish and played a more complicated character for the first time.

A church sermon in honour of Queen Victoria’s Golden Jubilee of 1887 is interrupted by a man laughing maniacally about the ridiculousness of condemning evil as inherently wrong and able to be conquered. Dr. Henry Jekyll (nicknamed Harry) is intrigued, and steps into the hall to speak with this fellow, Sam Higgins (Barton MacLane). Before the cops escort Sam out, Dr. Jekyll begs them to send him to Camden Hospital instead of arresting him.

After services, Jekyll visits him and fights with the head doctor about the need to give Sam an unorthodox cure that’s been successful with animals so far. The doctor absolutely refuses to permit human experimentation.
That night, Jekyll comes late to a big dinner with his fiancée Beatrix Emery and her dad Sir Charles (Donald Crisp) after getting wrapped up in lab work. The conversation quickly turns to the nature of good and evil, inspired by Sam’s crackup. Jekyll proposes the lofty goal of separating the good and evil natures chained together in every soul.

Privately, Charles lectures him about the folly of such theories, and is even more scandalised when Jekyll says he has every intention of carrying out serious experiments. He warns Jekyll to cease and desist for the sake of Beatrix, since she deserves a respectable, conventional doctor for a husband rather than a mad scientist not making any money.

On the way home, Jekyll comes across a mugging and rescues music hall barmaid Ivy Peterson. He chivalrously offers her a ride home in his carriage, since she badly twisted her ankle and can’t walk. Jekyll even carries her into her building and room.
Jekyll puts the light on and asks Ivy to pull her blouse down and let him look at her side. Ivy thinks he’s putting the moves on her, which isn’t at all displeasing, and gamely removes her top. She’s very surprised to learn he’s a doctor.

Their growing flirtation is forced to a premature end when Jekyll’s buddy John Layton (Ian Hunter), also a doctor, pops in and says they need to get going. Back in the carriage, they talk about what happened, and Jekyll proudly boasts about successfully withstanding temptation, thus proving our two competing natures can indeed be unchained.

A lot of intensified experiments in the lab follow, in which Jekyll whips up potions to turn his bunnies and various rodents violent-tempered and evil. He’s thrilled when his hard work pays off with positive results.
At long last, it comes time to take the ultimate risk and drink the potion himself, even knowing it might mean his death from the unknown variable. This first experience of transformation is so intense, he passes out. When he revives, he beholds himself in the mirror and cackles at the supposed evil represented in his new features.

Each successive transformation results in stronger and stronger effects, with disastrous results for his relationship with Beatrix, Ivy’s safety, and his own reputation. The pull of evil becomes harder and harder to resist, and it’s no longer so easy to change back at will after a short time.
Which side will win out in this classic battle between the intertwined good and evil natures that exist in all of our souls?





































