Monday, March 20, 2017
Sunday, March 12, 2017
The Falcon and the Co-eds was the seventh of the sixteen RKO Falcon movies. Tom Conway starred as the debonair sleuth Tom Lawrence (known as the Falcon) and the result is eminently satisfactory B-movie entertainment.
Jane Harris, a pupil at the exclusive Blue Cliff Seminary for Girls, contacts the Falcon with a story that one of the teachers there has been murdered. The Falcon doesn’t take her story seriously but when she takes extreme measures to get his attention (by stealing his car) he decides that perhaps it wouldn’t do any harm to do a little investigating.
The teacher supposedly died of heart failure but the Falcon is prepared to admit at least the possibility that there might have been more to it.
The Falcon discovers that several of the staff members of the college have things they wish to hide. There is some doubt as to whether Dr Anatole Graelich, who teaches psychology at Blue Cliff, entered the country legally. The behaviour of Vicky Gaines (Jean Brooks) is somewhat suspicious, as is the behaviour of music teacher Mary Phoebus (Isabel Jewell).
It all leads up to a tense and exciting cliff-top finale.
The hints of the supernatural, or the paranormal, are not allowed to overwhelm the story but they do add some interestingly spooky atmosphere.
Writer Ardel Wray provides a good solid mystery plot. William Clemens does a more than capable job directing and keep things moving along at a brisk pace. J. Roy Hunt’s cinematography, given the B-movie budgetary limitations, is quite impressive.
Comic relief is a regrettable but inescapable fact of life in Hollywood B-features of this era. In this film the comic relief is provided by the blustering Inspector Timothy Donovan (Cliff Clark) and his bumbling subordinate Detective Bates (Edward Gargan) and they’re reasonaby amusing. Additional comic elements are contributed by the three daughters of the college’s caretaker. The three girls are known collectively as the Three Ughs and they’re a delight (and genuinely funny).
The Falcon and the Co-eds is a very worthy entry in the Falcon movie cycle. The balance between the mystery and the more light-hearted elements is just right and the whole thing is bright and breezy and thoroughly enjoyable. Highly recommended.
Saturday, March 4, 2017
The White Trap is a 1959 British crime thriller and while it’s very much a B-movie it’s a very very good B-movie that turns out to be not quite what was expected. And there is perhaps just a hint of film noir here.
Lee Patterson stars as Paul Langley, a man serving a prison sentence for a crime he claims he did not commit. Actually he isn’t spending much time serving his sentence - he keeps escaping. During his wartime service he made a number of daring escapes from German POW camps, and became quite a hero as a result. Escaping from plain ordinary British prisons is child’s play for Langley. It’s a game and he thoroughly enjoys it. Langley is most definitely not a violent prisoner and he’s always careful to make sure no-one gets hurt. The authorities are exasperated by his antics but even the prison governor can’t help feeling a certain sympathy for him.
Now Langley has a real reason to want to escape - his wife (to whom he is devoted) is about to have a baby and it’s likely to be a difficult and dangerous birth.
His sergeant is not convinced that Walters’ plan will work. Sergeant Morrison (Conrad Phillips) does not believe that Langley would be such a fool as to walk straight into a trap. This disagreement leads to a certain amount of tension between Inspector Walters and Sergeant Morrison.
This is really as much of a prison escape movie as a conventional crime movie, and with Langley being a former war hero and a generally nice guy it really belongs in the daring escape against the odds genre (or at least it appears to at first).
To make things more interesting (and less predictable) both Inspector Walters and Sergeant Morrison are sympathetic characters as well.
Sidney Hayers became a very prolific and very successful television director. He directed only a relative handful of feature films but that handful included some exceptionally interesting films. He does a fine job here, keeping the excitement level consistently high. The script, by Peter Barnes, is more than adequate.
Canadian-born Lee Patterson starred in an impressive number of British B-pictures during this period. It’s not difficult to see why he was a popular choice for these types of movies - he was good-looking, he had charm and he was a very competent actor. He’s excellent in this role - he seems like exactly the sort of guy who would have the bravado and the insane self-confidence to pull off so many escapes and we desperately want him to get away with it.
Although The White Trap has no Edgar Wallace connection whatsoever Network have included it as an extra in their Edgar Wallace Mysteries volume 2 DVD boxed set, and a very welcome extra it is. The transfer is anamorphic and extremely good.
The White Trap is a very well-crafted thriller with fine performances by Lee Patterson, Michael Goodliffe and Conrad Phillips, and it has the emotional hook of a living husband desperately trying to see his ailing wife. Langley is not just a man in a trap - he is a man who must place himself in a trap. Being the man he is, there is nothing else he can do. This gives the movie its slight film noir flavour. In fact you could even argue that Inspector Walters is trapped as well - trapped not by his emotions but by his remorseless sense of duty. This is really an excellent little movie. Very highly recommended.
Saturday, February 25, 2017
A Stranger in Town is a very low-key 1957 British crime picture. In fact I don’t think you could find a more low-key crime film than this one.
The movie opens with the apparent suicide of a young American composer, David Vernon, who has been living in a sleepy English village. Not long afterwards another young American arrives. John Madison (Alex Nicol) is a reporter but he’s on holiday. Vernon’s uncle had asked him to visit the village to try to piece together the last few days of his nephew’s life and perhaps find the explanation for his suicide. John Madison isn’t a cop or a private eye and he isn’t suspicious at all about the circumstances of Vernon’s death.
The usual formula in these types of mysteries is that the investigator soon comes to believe that the suicide was actually murder, and his big task is then to convince the police that his suspicions are correct. In this case though Madison remains convinced that Vernon’s death really was a suicide. He’d just like to find out what drove the young composer to take his own life.
The village is somewhat divided over the presence of this second stranger. Vicki (Anne Paige), who’d been in love with David Vernon, seems to resent Madison’s presence. Her uncle and guardian, Henry Ryland (Colin Tapley), is not sure what to think. Henry Ryland owns the village’s only hotel, its only newspaper, and in fact seems to own most of the village. His brother William (Bruce Beeby) definitely resents what he sees as Madison’s prying. William Ryland is a rather obnoxious drunk and he obviously has designs on Vicki. William’s interest in Vicki must have caused some tensions with Vernon but it’s difficult to see how this could lead to the latter’s suicide.
The village is of course a hotbed of gossip but village life is neither idealised nor demonised in this movie. Some of the villagers are surly and very unfriendly to strangers; some are open and welcoming. Some are thoroughly unpleasant people; others are very decent and very kindly.
In supporting roles the standout performers are Mona Washbourne as the delightful amateur poetess Agnes Smith and Charles Lloyd Pack as the slightly Colonel Blimp-ish Captain Nash. Despite his attempts to convey a proper military bearing Nash is rather fond of a drink and even more fond of one if someone else is paying. These two not only lighten the mood but also make the portrayal of the village more realistic - there will always be some surly types in any community but there will also always be jovial if slightly ridiculous figures as well.
The Flying Scot (released in the same year as A Stranger in Town).
This movie doesn’t feel quite as studio-bound as most low-budget British crime films of its era. There’s just enough location shooting to make it less stifling and claustrophobic. Of course some crime movies benefit from being stifling and claustrophobic but this one is very much a bucolic mystery and it needs the more open feel.
The Third Alibi and Night Was Our Friend). It’s a single-disc set but with each movie running for just over an hour there are no problems at all and the transfers are quite satisfactory, apart from some intermittent sound issues with A Stranger in Town (happily all the dialogue is still quite understandable). Although there are no extras the set is superb value for money. The Third Alibi is excellent, Night Was Our Friend is interesting and pretty good and while A Stranger in Town is the weakest of the three it’s enjoyable enough.
A Stranger in Town is an unassuming little mystery. If you buy the set for the other two movies there’s no reason not to give this one a spin as well. Recommended.
Saturday, February 18, 2017
Together Again is a moderately entertaining 1944 Columbia screwball comedy, although it definitely is not in the genre’s top rank.
Anne Crandall (Irene Dunne) is the mayor of Brookhaven Vermont. Her late husband Jonathan had been mayor. In fact the Crandalls have always pretty much run the town. There’s even an impressive statue of Anne’s late husband looming over the place. At least there is until the statue is struck by lightning and decapitated.
Anne’s father-in-law Jonathan Crandall Sr (Charles Coburn) is delighted. He sees the lightning strike as a sign that it is time for Anne to move on. He feels that rather than devoting her life to continuing her husband’s work she should live her own life, and she should remarry.
Of course George has fallen for Anne and Anne has fallen for him although it will take her a while to admit such a thing. There is a major complication, in the person of Anne’s neurotic step-daughter Diana (Mona Freeman). Diana reveres her father’s memory and she’s rather highly strung. In fact she’s very highly strung indeed. The complication comes from the fact that Anne had promised Diana that she would never remarry.
Charles Vidor was a competent director but not really a specialist in this genre, and it’s a very demanding genre. It’s very easy for a screwball comedy to fall flat and for the intended zaniness to fizzle out into mere silliness. That doesn’t happen here but at the same time it doesn’t quite have the needed spark.
The setup has plenty of potential and with such a strong cast this should have been a winner. Unfortunately it rubbed me up the wrong way. Brookhaven seems like a delightful little town but of course George Corday points out to Anne that actually it’s full of hypocritical small-minded bigots. He knows this because he knows that anyone who doesn’t live in New York City is automatically a hypocritical small-minded bigot. The film accepts this as a fact so obvious that it doesn’t need to be debated. There’s a certain sneering contempt here that made me uncomfortable.
Together Again is reasonable entertainment and fans of Irene Dunne or Charles Coburn will find plenty to enjoy. The major weakness, for me, is that for a film like this to work we have to be hoping that the two leads will end up together, whereas I found myself hoping that Anne would realise that George Corday was a pompous self-satisfied ass so for me it didn’t really work. Your mileage may vary.
Saturday, February 11, 2017
The Clue of the Silver Key is one of the incredibly numerous series of Edgar Wallace adaptations cranked out by Britain’s Merton Park studio around 1960-61. This particular film came out in 1961.
Superintendent Meredith (Bernard Lee) has a murder to deal with. Within a short space of time he has multiple murders to deal with. They all seem to have some connection with a gallery opening by young artist Gerry Domford (Lyndon Brook) and with elderly super-rich money-lender Harvey Lane (Finlay Currie). Dornford wants to marry Lane’s niece Mary (Jennifer Daniel) but the old man won’t hear of it and threatens to cut her off without a penny if she does marry him.
There’s also a financier named Jordan Worth but nobody seems to know anything at all about him. There’s a waiter who may be more than a waiter and a bank manager who may be less than a bank manager. And there’s Harvey Lane’s butler Binny (Patrick Cagill) whose one great ambition in life was to be a detective.
The clue of the silver key itself is a neat touch and it really is an important clue.
Philip Mackie wrote the screenplay. Mackie went on to be a very fine television writer with a real flair for crime so it’s not surprising that the script is well-constructed with some decent twists. Mackie later created the wonderful Mr Rose, one of the best British television crime shows of the 60s and wrote several episodes of the equally splendid The Rivals of Sherlock Holmes series as well as all twelve episodes of the Raffles TV series.
British B-movies of this were usually well-acted and this one is no exception (despite the rock-bottom budgets of Merton Park productions). Bernard Lee played countless policemen and he played them all in much the same style, which happened to be a very effective and very enjoyable style. Superintendent Meredith is no genius but he’s dogged and while he’s a bit crusty he’s fundamentally decent.
This story doesn’t have the slightly outlandish touches that many of the most entertaining Edgar Wallace tales have. It’s a relatively straightforward mystery.
This is one of the seven films that make up Network’s Region 2 Edgar Wallace Mysteries: Volume 2 DVD set. The anamorphic transfer is extremely good.
The Clue of the Silver Key is an unassuming but well-made B-movie that provides perfectly harmless entertainment. Recommended for fans of British mystery thrillers of this era (a veritable golden age for such films).
Friday, February 3, 2017
Man with a Gun is one of the countless crime B-movies churned out by Britain’s Merton Park Studios in the 50s and early 60s. It’s not dazzlingly original but it’s well-made and pretty entertaining.
Mike Davies (Lee Patterson) is an insurance investigator. He’s looking into a suspicious night club fire. The club was owned by Harry Drayson (John Le Mesurier). It soon becomes obvious that there is something more going on here, that in fact the fire was part of a plan by a gang of out-of-town hoodlums to move in on the London night club scene. All this is not really part of Davies’ job but he has a personal interest - he likes Harry Drayson and he likes Harry’s niece Stella (Rona Anderson) even more.
Superintendent Wood (Cyril Chamberlain) of Scotland Yard is taking an interest in the case but there’s no hard evidence against the gang and there’s not a lot he can do. He is however quite happy for Mike to dig up anything he can that might help.
The gang is determined to force Drayson to sell his Stardust Club for a paltry sum and their methods become steadily more ruthless. Drayson however is a stubborn man, perhaps too stubborn for his own good.
It’s the rather good cast that makes this movie worth watching. Canadian-born Lee Patterson made a lot of these cheap B-films in the 50s and he has just the right kind of understated tough guy charisma. He usually played likeable but tough heroes (as in The Key Man) or sympathetic villains (as in The Flying Scot) and that’s how he plays this role and he does have a certain easy-going charm. Most importantly, Patterson knows how to wear a trench-coat convincingly!
The film’s biggest fault is that it’s a bit too short and the ending seems very rushed. There’s not quite enough time spent building the suspense before the big revelation and the climax.
Man with a Gun offers an hour of perfectly acceptable and surprisingly well-crafted entertainment. Despite the routine plot the fine performances, especially from Lee Patterson and John Le Mesurier, make this a slightly above average crime B-feature. Recommended.