The Walking Dead (Michael Curtiz, 1936)

We're not in Casablanca any more, Toto (or that should be "yet", strictly speaking). Great fun this, Karloff playing on his Frankenstein's monster reputation to give us a gentle zombie who only wants to know the truth, and kills only by terrifying his victims into accidental (or should that be providential?) deaths. His gently rich voice helps a great deal as well. Rather neat to have things set up by a gangster scenario as well, although the scientist's "insatiable desire for knowledge" schtick is pasted on latterly rather half-heartedly. Goes at quite a lick too, though for once I think a film would actually have benefitted from being longer - the gangster plot is revealed to the doctor halfway through in a shockingly casual bit of exposition-dumping.