It's all very Russian...

The Drums of Jeopardy (1931)
Starring: Warner Oland, June Collyer, Lloyd Hughes, Hale Hamilton, Wallace MacDonald, Clara Blandick, and Mischa Auer
Director: George B. Seitz
Rating: Seven of Ten Stars

When one of the men of the Petrov family makes his daugher pregnant, dumps her, and causes her to commit suicide, but then won't own up to his misdeed, Dr. Boris Karlov (Oland) sets out to gain revenge by seeing them all dead. He persues them halfway around the world, to America, where a secret service agent (Hamilton) and a feisty young American woman (Collyer) end up in the middle of this Russian struggle for survival and revenge.


"Drums of Jeopardy" is a nifty little thriller from the early days of talkies that's jam-packed with meldodrama, action, and humor. Its fast-paced script hardly gives the viewers a chance to realize that just about everything in this film has become almost painfully cliche in the nearly eighty years since its original release, nor does it pause long enough to really let us consider how outrageous and dimwitted the "brilliant" plan of the Federal Agents who match wits with Karlov is. We're too busy hating the slimy Russian nobleman Prince Gregor (Wallace MacDonald) who not only impregnated and dumped a poor girl, refuses to live up to what he's done and ultimately tries to sell out everyone else to save his own skin; admiring the beauty of the resourceful young Kitty Connover (June Collyer), snickering at the comic relief provided by her sharp-tongued aunt (Clara Blandick), and grinning with sinister glee as Dr. Karlov delivers zingers and pulls tricks on the good guys that allows him to take a place among the great villains of movie history 's zingers as his evil plans fall into place (an honor deserved in no small part due to an excellent performance by character actor Warner Oland who is best remembered or playing Charlie Chan and for his role in "Werewolf of London").

Another remarkable aspect of this film that sets it apart from many of its contemporaries is that it has a villain that the viewer can relate to. His daughter was violated and tossed aside by the Petrovs, so, given that this is a melodramatic thriller and we're talking about Russians here, it's only natural he'd take elaborate and final revenge against not only the Petrovs but Russian nobility in general. Karlov is a character who is almost like a tragic hero in his stature within this film and he is must more interesting than most film villains from the early days of film.

I should note that as much as I enjoyed this film, I was a little dissapointed in some apsects of how the story unfolded. I've already commented on the moronic nature of the government agents in the film, but a bigger dissapointment was that Karlov didn't really get his full revenge and we don't get to see that rat bastard Gregor die a slow and painful death. (That alone makes me wish for a remake of this movie. I'd love to see Tim Thomerson as Karlov!)

Speaking of Karlov... yes, the villain of this movie is named Boris Karlov. Given that this film is based on an American novel that was originally published in 1920, I think we can chalk this up to one of those weird coincidences. Karloff was an obscure stage actor touring Canadian backwaters at the time the book was written. (Although at least one source claims that Karloff chose his screen name because of the novel.)

Perhaps the butler actually did it this time!

Sinister Hands (1932)
Starring: Jack Mulhall, Crauford Kent, Mischa Auer, Phyllis Barrington, Louis Nathaeux, Gertie Messinger, Fletcher Norton, Phillips Smalley, Lillian West, and James P. Burtis
Director: Armand Shaefer
Rating: Five of Ten Stars

A millionaire is murdered at a seance where EVERYONE (including the bulter) could have done it, and had reason to do it. It's up to homicide detective Herbert Devlin (Muhall) to sort through the suspicious characters and find the killer.


"Sinister Hands" is a decent little mystery that plays like an outline of an Agatha Christie novel. The first half sets up the future victim and all the people with reasons to kill him, and the second half is devoted mostly the detective interrogating the suspects as he tries to discover who did it, or trick the killer into revealing him- or herself.

There will be no great surprises in this film if you pay attention as it unfolds and if you've read/seen at least two or three other detective movies. (In fact, one of the things I found most interesting is completely trivial and not even related directly to the movie. It appeared that the characters were wearing unisex bathing suits at the pool party scene. I'd never noticed that men and women's swimwear was that close in style and appearance during the late 1920s and early 1930s. I also found it noteworthy that one of the suspects is a fake spiritualist named Yomurda. With a name like that, he can't possibly be the killer, can he? :D )

This is an entertaining little mystery film that is probably only of interest to big fans of the genre (like me) or those with a deep love of low-budget films from this era (which I also qualify as). It might also be a suitable second feature for a Bad Movie Night, because, while not exactly a bad movie, it is a film that time has passed by and which can give rise to much levity in the right company.

'Sucker Money' shows dark side of psychics

Sucker Money (1933)
Starring: Earl McCarthy, Mischa Auer, Phyllis Barrington and Mae Busch
Directors: Dorothy Davenport and Melville Shyer
Rating: Six of Ten Stars

When Jimmy (McCarthy), an actor-turned-newspaper reporter, infiltrates a group of confidence artists who are running an elaborate phony psychic operation, he gets more than just the material for a great expose: He finds romance in the form of beautiful Ms. Walton (Barrington), one of the targets of the bad guys, and he finds danger at the hands of the murderous leader of the gang, Swami Yomurda (Auer) when his cover is blown.

"Sucker Money" is a fine, fast-paced little reporter-saves-the-day-and-the-girl and self-declared "expose" film of the phony psychic racket (which, given the number of movies that were made with this theme during the 1930s and 1940s, I can only assume was quite widespread). The set-up is a bit weak--a criminal enterprise as elaborate and organized as the one presented in this film wouldn't turn to the want ads when it came to hiring new help--but that bit of nonsense aside, the film is engaging, well-acted, and well-filmed... even if it feels and looks a bit too much like a silent movie at times. (There's also the minor issue with the reporter wearing more lipstick and eyeliner than any of the women characters in the film when he's in his "acting mode". Perhaps that's to remind the audience that he's a ACTOR? Or maybe that was part of his disguise--"if they think I'm one of THOSE actors, the women won't come onto handsome ole me, and I'll get my story quicker"?

The weaknesses of the film are more than made up for by the evil Swami Yomurda (whose name is never said in the film, thank God.) Auer portrays a truly sinister and evil character, with strongly scripted actions to support him. He may be a fake psychic, but he has Svengali-like hypnotic powers, and he has no compulsion about ordering those under them to dispatch themselves by drinking poison. He does just this in the film's most startling scene. The scene alone makes the film worth watching, although the strong climax also makes it well worth your time, if you're a lover of old-fashioned crime dramas.




(Trivia: This is the second movie in which Mischa Auer played a crooked spiritualist named "Sawmi Yomurda." The first was 1932's "Sinister Hands," in which is also co-starred with Phyllis Barrington (her character in that film was a different one, however).

A monarch rests uneasily in 'The Royal Bed'

The Royal Bed (1931)
Starring: Lowell Sherman, Mary Astor, Anthony Bushell, Nance O'Neil, Robert Warick, Gilbert Emery, and Alan Roscoe
Director: Lowell Sherman
Rating: Seven of Ten Stars

The kindhearted and reluctant king of a small nation (Sherman) is forced to start weilding his power when power-hungry and corrupt ministers in his government (Roscoe and Warick) bring the country to the brink of revolution and concoct a scheme to marry off the king's daughter (Astor) to the prince of a neighboring kingdom.


"The Royal Bed" is an interesting look at the ideal of what members of a noble or royal class should be like. Lowell Sherman's down-to-earth King Eric VIII may want to do nothing more with his time than play checkers with his butler, but when push-comes-to-shove, he steps up to his responsibilities and takes charge. He is also willing to sacrifice his personal happiness for the inherited responsibilities that come with his title and he is willing to put the safety and security of the people ahead of his own.

The same can be said Eric's shrewish wife (effectively played by Nance O'Neil), although her acceptance of the burden of royalty at the expense of personal happiness has caused her to become bitter and she takes her frustrations out on her family and servants... although, ultimately, like her husband, she puts the needs of the country ahead of her own. (Her bitterness causes her to constantly demand respect and obedience from those around her, and this causes her to ally herself with elements in her kingdom that do not have the best interest of the people at heart.)

Finally, the film contrasts King Eric against the worst kind of nobles, the ones who feel entitled to whatever they want, whenever they want, and who are more interested in expanding their own power than what is good for the people they lead and government. In the end, the king is able to outmaneuver them because he is in touch with the people and because he understands not only how government is supposed to function, but because he understands his place in it.

All in all, it's a nice little fantasy, and I'm sure there would be fewer revolutions in the world if royals were like King Eric and his family.

On the acting front, the two leads--Lowell Sherman and Mary Astor--to their usual fine jobs. Sherman's style isn't quite as modern as I've observed it to be in other films, but he shows a good sense of comic timing. No one in the cast embarrasses themselves, but they underscore the stage-play feel of this movie far more obviously than Astor and Sherman. (In fact, I doubt much was changed in order to adapt this film from the play it was based on; you can even tell where the acts break.)

Speaking of the script, it's a fun and breezy little effort that actually put me in mind of Marx Brothers movies like "A Day at the Races". If you were to remove the Marx Brothers' slapstick set-pieces and musical numbers from those films, you'd be left with farces featuring the same tone and pacing as "The Royal Bed".

If you enjoy classic farces, I think this film is worth seeking out. The copy I viewed had some audio problems beyond the usual--such as sudden and inexplicable changes in volume--but with a film this old and neglected, there aren't going to be many options around. (I screened the one issued by good old Alpha Video.)

'My Man Godfrey' has social commentary relevant today

My Man Godfrey (1936)
Starring: William Powell, Carole Lombard, Alice Brady, Gail Patrick, Mischa Auer, Jean Dixon, Eugene Pallette and Alan Mobray
Director: Gregory La Cava
Rating: Eight of Ten Stars

When a down-and-out man with a secret past (Powell) is hired as the butler for the most dysfunctional family of New York City's wealthy elite, what starts as a cruel joke ultimately ends up transforming the lives of everyone involved.


"My Man Godfrey" is one of the great comedies of the 1930s. Its fast-paced script, hilarious gags, and the top-notch cast that performs them with impeccable comic timing, makes it a movie that should still entertain all but the most brain-damaged members of Generation XBox. If you've seen William Powell in the more famous "Thin Man" series and you liked him there, you definitely need to see this movie as he gives an even better performance as the mysterious Godfrey Smith--a man retrieved from the city dump by a pair of flighty and drunken socialites, yet who has more class, polish and social grace in his left hand than they have in their entire family.

Another reason to watch the film is that the social commentary within it remains as relevant today as it was in 1936. It's particularly worth watching if you're a filmmaker or writer who wants to create a "message movie", as this film shows how to do it the RIGHT way.

Michael Moore, David Zucker and any number of other modern filmmakers who think they have important messages worth listening to should be forced to watch and write a 5,000 essay on "My Man Godfrey" before they are let anywhere near a film production again.

(And on a different note, I am hereby offering a public admission of being wrong. I told a fellow film enthusiast that I didn't think it mattered if comedies were colorized--dramas were ruined by the colorization process because it leaches the blackness from the shadows and dampens the brightness of the lit areas--and he told me that I was mistaken. Naturally, I disagreed. But the version of "My Man Godfrey" that I saw had both the original and a very well done colorized version on the same disk. However, despite the fact that the colorization job was excellent, the end result was still one that was flat and visually uninteresting. So, I have to admit that colorization hurts any kind of film that was originally filmed in black-and-white.)

'The Monster Walks' is a mediocre early talkie

The Monster Walks (1932)
Starring: Rex Lease, Sidney Bracy, Mischa Auer, Vera Reynolds and Willie Best ("Sleep 'n' Eat")
Director: Frank Strayer
Rating: Five of Ten Stars

The night following the death of Earlton Manor's master, those gathered for the reading of his will are menaced by a killer who seems to move unseen through the sprawling house's shadow-filled rooms. Will Dr. Clayton (Lease) discover the identity of the killer in time to save the prime target, his fiance, Ruth (Reynolds)?


A slightly dull example of the "Dark Old House" mystery films that flourished in the early days of the talkies, "The Monster Walks" has a couple of respectable twists and tense moments. It's not the strongest example of this faded film sub-genre, but it's decent enough.

I wonder: Is this one of the first examples of an ape being the possible killer in a mystery film? It seems like by the late 30s, every fourth low-budget thriller or comedy featured an ape (or a guy in a gorilla suit). Is this where the trend started? (One of the sources of dread of the film is a large, violent chimp that's kept in a cage in the house's basement.)

Christie adapation that's a true classic

And Then There Were None (1945)
Starring: Barry Fitzgerald, Walter Huston, Roland Young, Louis Hayward and June Deprez
Director: Rene Clair
Rating: Nine of Ten Stars

Ten strangers are invited to a manor house on an uninhabited island. They quickly learn that each of them have a dark secret in their past... and soon after that, an unseen killer delivers the ultimate punishment for their crimes, killing them one by one.


"And Then There Were None" is perhaps the best adaptation so far of this often-adapted Agatha Christie tale. Like most of them, it's not based on the novel, but rather on the play that Christie herself wrote from the novel. The play has a breezier pace, a less downbeat ending, and simply lends itself better to being filmed (which shouldn't be a surprise to anyone).

This version of "And Then There Were None" is full of expertly shot scenes, and there isn't a scrap of padding to be found. From the moment the ten guests arrive at the house and meet the two live-in servants, it's apparent something's amiss, and as the dead bodies start piling up and the survivors recognize the killer is hiding among them, the director uses lighting, camera angles, and expert editing and pacing to drive the tension even higher as he underscores the building mutual suspicion among those who remain. (The fact that the story is driven by a children's song about ten Indians that one by one come to a terrible end until there are none of them left also keeps the story moving--the audience knows it's only a matter of time before the killer strikes again.)

The only flaw I see with this film is one that I've always had with this story. I simply don't buy the method by which the killer hid, nor do I buy that no one thought to check on the cover that was being used. (I'm being vague here, because I don't want to spoil the film for those who may be unfamiliar with it.) That said, one of my favorite moments comes when a character who SHOULD have figured out what was going on finally does... only to die after a rather suspenseful build-up. Another cool moment is when the characters follow an unraveled ball of yarn and a playful kitten to find another dead body.

"And Then There Was None" is a true classic, based on one of the great "whodunnits" (even if some aspects of the mystery don't sit well with me, I can't deny it's a great work), and I think it's a film and a story that modern writers who think they're coming up with clever twists would do well to study. Here's a film and a story that actually IS clever and features well-executed and grounded twists.

'The Woman Condemned' hasn't aged well

The Woman Condemned (1934)
Starring: Richard Hemingway, Claudia Dell, Lola Lane, Paul Ellis, and Mischa Auer
Director: Mrs. Wallace Reid
Rating: Five of Ten Stars

When a radio station's star attraction (Lane) takes a mysterious leave of absence, the station manager becomes concerned that the largest sponsor of her show may pull out. He hires a private detective (Dell) to locate her and to find out why she needed the break... but when the P.I. is arrested for the murder of the singer, things start to get desperate on all fronts.

"The Woman Condemned" is a film that straddles the line between the mystery and comedy genres. The weird way through which Dell's lady P.I. Barbara Hammond and skirt-chasing gossip reporter Jerry Beall (Hemingway) meet and get married is absurd and hilarious, but the plot surrounding the murder of the singer and Beall's attempts to uncover proof of Hammond's innocence is a pretty serious (if a bit far-fetched, once all the details come to light) mystery tale.

This is one of those films that time has passed by. The camerawork and acting is more reminiscent of a silent movie than is healthy for the film (I had the same complaint about the other film from this director that I've seen, "Sucker Money") and the third act twists have become more eye-rolling than shocking with the 70+ years of mystery films that have been made since its release. However, the pace is fast enough and the set-up odd enough that the film will keep the attention of viewers who enjoy 1930s cinema. (The plot is also engaging enough that with some updating and rewriting of the ending, it would make a better remake candidate than all those 1980s movies everyone in Hollywood seems intent on revisiting.)


Trivia: The person behind the odd director's credit of "Mrs. Wallace Reid" was the one-time hugely celebrated silent movie star Dorothy Davenport. She turned to writing and directed later in her career, using her husband's name as her byline. She continued this habit until 1935.