Dr. Pretorius disappears into another room and quickly returns carrying a large chest. Dressed in clothes that could be mistaken for those of an alchemist or a cleric, he pulls glass containers from the chest. In a display of special effects that are still impressive today, each one is shown to contain a miniature person he’s grown “from seed.” Over gin, the two argue, but Pretorius insists that Henry make a female. While his seed process is good for creating pocket-sized people, he doesn’t possess Henry’s knack for creating the seven-foot tall variety.
Meanwhile, the monster, trying to befriend a shepherdess, has the usual bad luck and winds up getting chased, once again, through a forest of starkly barren tree trunks by the exasperated villagers. They corner him and truss him up in crucifixion fashion, then cart him off to town and a dungeon cell.
Without skipping a beat, he breaks free of his massive chains and the dungeon, and goes about making his hurt feelings known by trashing the villagers. Hungry, he stumbles onto a gypsy campsite with the usual catastrophic results. Now more tired and hungry, he makes his way through the woods until he hears serene music and follows it to a small cabin. Looking through the window like a curious little boy, he sees an old man playing a violin. Not using the best of tact to introduce himself he barges in, but this time there’s no fear. The old man is blind, and as lonely as the monster. Finally, the monster has found a home.
In a touching scene that almost becomes maudlin--but doesn’t, both afflicted men tearfully rejoice at their good fortune. Rembrandt lighting suffuses the faces of the old man and the monster, and flickering shadows cast by the fireplace light play about the cabin. The scene is a meticulous composition of light, darkness, music and precise motion. In the days that follow, the monster learns to speak, enjoys wine and a good cigar, though his first energetic puffs on it make him greener than he usually is.
Hunters spoil this brief respite from calamity, and the monster is once again running away from more exasperated, torch-wielding villagers. He finds shelter in a cemetery crypt, and sees Dr. Pretorius having a grand old time among the bones. Over drink they hatch a plan to force Henry to make the monster a mate. Karloff has his most introspective lines here, and delivers them perfectly. Between his studied pantomime and simple, carefully spoken words, Karloff shows us more of the monster’s personality, eliciting even more sympathy for his ill-fortune.
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