According to legend, the backlash to 1932’s controversial Freaks ended the career of filmmaker Tod Browning. That didn’t prove literally accurate, though, as Browning still produced a handful of additional features, with 1936’s The Devil-Doll as his second-to-last effort.

Once a successful banker, Paul Lavond (Lionel Barrymore) winds up framed for crimes he didn’t commit and sent to prison. After a few years, he escapes thanks to help from scientist and fellow inmate Marcel (Henry B. Walthall).

Marcel develops a way to miniaturize humans. Though Marcel intends this development to aid humanity, the vengeance-obsessed Paul uses the methods to wreck havoc on his enemies.

“Making ‘em small” seems like an odd conceit for a revenge thriller. However, at least it gives us something novel, and that creates intrigue.

Actually, the story goes places I didn’t anticipate. I figured Lavond would use the miniaturization to shrink his foes, but that turns out not to be the case.

I’ll avoid additional notes to skip spoilers, though it seems a little weird to worry about plot points for an 87-year-old flick. In any case, Doll finds an alternate way for Lavond to utilize tiny people toward his goals, and this becomes a fun conceit.

Well, perhaps “fun” doesn’t feel like the right term, but I do think Doll feels a bit more spry than what I expect from Browning. The movie really gives off a vibe that reminds me of his “rival” James Whale – and I imagine this wasn’t entirely coincidental.

Whale’s Bride of Frankenstein came out just the year before Doll, and it also involved scenes with miniaturized characters. In addition, Marcel’s wife Malita (Rafaela Ottiano) – who acts as his scientific collaborator – looks a bit like the Bride and also gives off an Igor feel.

Whether or not Browning overtly “borrowed” from Whale, this tone allows Doll more spunk and wit than I might anticipate from Browning. “Wit” doesn’t mean overt comedy, of which we find little, but the movie simply boasts a cheeky impression I don’t associate with Browning.

If we look for comedy from Doll, that would stem from Barrymore’s disguise as “Madame Mandilip”. Because Lavond needs to remain hidden from Parisian authorities, he goes into drag as the elderly Madame M.

As played by Barrymore, Madame M feels like a precursor to Mrs. Doubtfire. Barrymore doesn’t camp it up, but he inevitably creates a few amusing moments in this situation.

That said, Doll largely plays it straight. Outside of a smattering of mildly funny moments, Barrymore avoids attempts to make Madame M a comedic device.

Madame M and the concept of Lavond’s miniature assistants does give Doll a quirky feel that works. It shows a lot of cleverness and milks these ideas for positive effect.

Really, my only complaint here stems from the dreary subplot related to Lavond’s estranged daughter Lorraine (Maureen O’Sullivan). Doll attempts to use that relationship as a dramatic/tear-jerking device, but it doesn’t fly.

When Lorraine appears along with her dull boyfriend Toto (Frank Lawton), the movie drags. I get why the filmmakers wanted Lavond’s tale to involve more interpersonal stakes, but the Lorraine segments just feel like they come from a different – and more conventional – movie.

Despite those lackluster spots, I still find a lot to like about Devil-Doll. It shows Browning close to his best, even as his career wound to a premature end.

The Devil-Doll appears in an aspect ratio of 1.37:1 on this Blu-ray Disc. The transfer worked well, especially given the movie’s age.

Sharpness satisfied overall. Some shots led to a little softness, but the majority of the flick came with appealing definition.

Jagged edges and moiré effects caused no problems. Edge haloes remained absent, and with a layer of fine grain, I suspected no issues with digital noise reduction.

Of course, the movie’s complex for the era visual effects created some anomalies. However, these remained modest and didn’t distract.

Black levels seemed nicely deep and dark, and contrast was appropriately displayed. The movie showed a good silvery look, and shadow detail was also concise and developed.

Source flaws failed to become an issue. The transfer eliminated those defects and left this as a clean presentation. I felt very happy with this transfer.

As for the film’s DTS-HD MA monaural soundtrack, it replicated the original material with positive quality. Dialogue seemed fine for its era, and was relatively crisp and well-defined with no signs of edginess or problems related to intelligibility.

The movie featured a fairly spare score, but when we heard music, it was acceptably broad and clear. The material presented little low end but the dynamics were fine for a track of this vintage.

Though effects were similarly dated, they seemed adequately clean and realistic, and no aspects of the mix displayed signs of distortion. Background noise failed to become an issue. All in all, the audio worked fine for its age.

When we shift to extras, we locate an audio commentary from film historian Dr. Bruce Haberman and film historian/Filmmaker Constantine Nasr. Both sit together for this running, screen-specific look at the source and its adaptation, story, characters and the evolution of the screenplay, cast and crew, some production elements and genre areas.

This turns into a tight little track, especially in the way Nasr and Baberman trace the development of the script. We get a fine look at the film from the commentary.

In addition to the film’s trailer, we find two circa 1936 vintage animated shorts. The disc includes Milk and Money (8:09) and The Phantom Ship (7:36).

With Money, we get an early Porky Pig affair, as the character debuted a mere year earlier. It shows Porky in a nascent state and not much like the persona we’d know and love.

Money also shows a Tex Avery who needed a few more years to get to his trademark directorial style, though we do see glimmers of his tendencies. This makes Money more interesting as a historical curiosity than an amusing short.

As for Ship, it stars a short-lived anthropomorphic feline named “Beans”. The successor to the better-known Bosko – and the equally forgotten Buddy – Beans offers another character who seems to exist mainly to give Looney Tunes their own Mickey Mouse ripoff.

Neither Bosko nor Buddy proved memorable, and Beans follows suit. As Beans and his nephews – bizarrely shown to be dogs – visit the titular vessel, they encounter spooky weirdness.

Alas, the audience finds little entertainment value from this excursion. Ship comes with a few decent moments but most of it seems bland.

As one of the final films made by Tod Browning, The Devil-Doll manages to create a reasonably evocative tale. Some moments drag but the overall package works. The Blu-ray brings appropriate picture and audio along with a decent mix of bonus materials. Doll winds up as a largely clever and involving movie.