'Murder in the Museum' is a smokin' mystery

Murder in the Museum (1934)
Starring: John Harron, Henry B. Walthall, Phyllis Barrington, Donald Kerr, Steve Clemente and Joseph W. Girad
Director: Melville Shyer
Rating: Six of Ten Stars

When a city councilman is murdered while on a fact-finding mission to a local "museum of oddities", the police commisioner (Girard) emerges as the most likely suspect. However, crimebeat reporter Jerry Ross (Herron) sets out to prove his innocence in order to impress tthe commisioners niece (Barrington), a beautiful young lady he's taken an interest in.


"Murder at the Museum" is a nicely executed who-dunnit with an unusual and unpredictable setting of a Skid Row freak show. Everyone in the establishment has a dark history with secrets, but which of the them had enough darkness in their background to murder the holier-than-thou crusading councilman? And how was the crime committed?

In addition to its convincingly drawn seedy sideshow setting, the film is blessed with a fast-moving plot, well-crafted dialogue and a cast of talented actors. The characters are all engaging and interesting and the usual annoying traits of the stock character of the wise-cracking reporter who outsmarts the police are not quite as nerve-grating as they often are, both due to the writing and to the inherent charm of actor John Harron.

There is one odd bit in the film that made me curious about where Monogram Pictures might have received funding for the film. Smoking is a part of every day life, so characters smoking in a film do not cause me to throw hysterical fits the way it does some people, but there's a scene in the film that feels like it should be in a cigarette commercial. It is so strange and so out of place that I can't help but wonder if it's there at the demands of an investor. (I can't really say more about the scene without giving away part of the movie, but if you see the film you'll know exactly what I'm referring to.)

As far as I've been able to determine, "Murder at the Museum" is only available on DVD from Alpha Video, and the print they used had some unfortunate damage to it... like the key couple of seconds missing where a masked killer is throttling the life out of Jerry Ross. It's not unusual for old films from long-gone studios to be in bad shape, but it's something I feel obligated to point out when it disrupts the flow of the story.

'The Devil Bat' is one of Lugosi's best

The Devil Bat (aka "Killer Bats") (1942)
Starring: Bela Lugosi, Dave O'Brien, Suzanne Kaaren, and Donald Kerr
Director: Jean Yarborough
Rating: Seven of Ten Stars

Everyone loves the ever-smiling chemist Dr. Paul Carruthers (Lugosi), especially the investors in the cosmetics company he's been creating best-selling colognes and perfumes for. When the company owners make what they feel is a nice gesture to reward Carruthers' many years of service, he feels like he's been insulted and he decides to kill his bosses and their entire family. Revealing that he's as talented a mad scientist as he is a chemist, Carruthers transforms otherwise harmless bats into giant hunter-killers that hone in on a special cologne that he's given to his victims for "testing." Will Carruthers get away with his bloody schemes, or will a lazy tabloid reporter (O'Brien) and his photographer (Kerr) manage to stumble their way to the truth?


That's a long summary, but "The Devil Bat" is pretty convoluted. In fact, it's so convoluted that it's one of those films that you need to just watch without thinking too hard, particularly when it comes to Paul Carruthers, his killer bats, and his rambler house with its secret Mad Scientiest Lab and tower for convenient bat launches.

The film's got a decent cast (with Lugosi being particularly fun to watch) a story with plenty of humor (both intentional and unintentional), and a pace that is just fast enough to keep the viewers interested. It's by no means a masterpiece, and its low, low budget is painfully visible in some of the sets (although the bat effects are better than I expected), but it's a fun bit of viewing if you enjoy Bela Lugosi and the nonsense breed of plup fiction-style sci-fi/horror flicks that filled the B-feature slots at movie houses in the 30s and 40s.

By the way, I highly recommend getting the DVD version of the film that I've linked to below. Not because I recommend watching colorized classics, but because I think it's fascinating to compare a colorized version with the black-and-white version. Invariably, you will discover that colorizing saps a film of life rather than enhances it. (I used to think that it was only dramas that were ruined by colorization. Then I picked up the disc containing both the colorized version and original version of "My Man Godfrey." Actually, watching both versions close together changed my mind completely.)