Martin Edwards's Blog, page 128

The Spaniard's Curse - 1958 film review

I sat down to watch The Spaniard's Curse without high hopes, to be honest. The title didn't inspire much confidence, but the Talking Pictures TV channel has dug up are some hidden gems, and I was taken by surprise when the opening credits revealed that Kenneth Hyde's screenplay was based on a story by Edith Pargeter. And that, of course, was the real name of an author I've long admired - Ellis Peters.

The original story is, in fact, a novella, "The Assize of the Dying"; I hadn't even realised that it had been turned into a film. It's a reminder that she was doing very good work long before the era of Brother Cadfael. And the story is certainly a good one, a cut above many of the other short black and white British movies of the 50s.

We begin with a jury worrying over its verdict in a murder trial. Stevenson, the accused (Basil Dignam, in relatively early and untypical role) is ultimately found guilty, and when asked if he has anything to say, he uses the formula of an ancient Spanish curse on the judge (Michael Hordern), prosecuting counsel, and jury foreman. Hence the melodramatic title, although I feel it is  much inferior to The Assize of the Dying, which strikes me as genuinely evocative.

Soon both Stevenson and the jury foreman die, and attention focuses on the judge and his domestic circle, comprising his dashing journalist son (Tony Wright, who played Jack Havoc in the film version of The Tiger in the Smoke), his ward (Susan Beaumont, an attractive young woman whose screen career was bafflingly brief) and her new boyfriend (Canadian actor Lee Patterson). Hordern gives an excellent performance in quite a challenging role.

The set-up of the story is full of promise, and there's a very pleasing red herring which fooled me completely for a while. After that, it faltered a little, and personally I felt that had something to do with Patterson's lack of charisma. The ending also felt a bit rushed. On the whole, though, I found this an entertaining film, a little different from the run-of-the-mill, and it's worth a look if you get the chance.




 

The Hatton Garden Job and Freehold (aka Two Pigeons) - movie reviews

Two short, recent films today. Both have their moments, but not enough to live up to the potential of their storylines. And despite short running times, they both felt a bit too long, which rather said it all. The Hatton Garden Job disappointed me more, because the true story on which it's based is so remarkable - an extraordinarily lucrative heist carried out by a small gang of veteran criminals. Despite the arrests and convictions that followed, questions about the crime remain.

This film makes up answers to some of those questions, inventing a character played by Matthew Goode who is hired to do job by a glamorous female Hungarian gangster, played rather improbably by Joely Richardson. We never really learn enough about either character to become fully engaged with them, and I was amused by one negative review which compared Richardson's performance to that of a frazzled magician's assistant. Well, it isn't her finest hour, but I remain a fan of hers.

The snag with a heist movie is that it is easy to fall into the trap of following a formula: the gang is assembled, the heist is carried out, and then things go wrong. This film doesn't do anything original with those elements, even though the gang members, including the excellent David Calder, are a likeable bunch - much more likeable than their real life counterparts, no doubt.

A couple of days after watching this, I came across Ambush in Leopard Street, a 1962 B-movie about a diamond heist in London. Apart from Bruce Seton (aka Fabian of the Yard) the cast was as forgettable as the script, but really there wasn't any less to it than there was to The Hatton Garden Job, even though the new film looks much flashier.

Freehold, also known as Two Pigeons (I wonder why they changed the title... or perhaps I don't!), is a revenge thriller, a black comedy, including scenes which will appeal to connoisseurs of the repellent. Having met a few young London estate agents some years back, the idea of one of their number getting an overdue come-uppance is, I'm sorry to say, rather appealing, but again I didn't think the script fulfilled its theoretical promise. I did, however, think that the ending was pretty good, and rather better than the lead-up to it.

Blanche Fury - 1948 film review

Blanche Fury, a 1948 historical melodrama starring Stewart Granger and Valerie Hobson, was based on a book of the same name by Joseph Shearing published nine years earlier. The Shearing pseudonym was used by Marjorie Bowen, a highly prolific and undoubtedly accomplished writer, and the Shearing stories were typically based on real life historical cases. For instance, Airing in a Closed Carriage is based on the Maybrick case.

Blanche Fury was inspired by a real life case rather less well-known than the Maybrick case, although quite notorious in its day. This was the double murder at Stanfield Hall in Norwich in 1848, when a father and son were shot dead by a tenant farmer. The details of the case are significantly changed in the film, not least in the transposition of the setting to Staffordshire, but perhaps the most significant change is the focus on the title character, played by Hobson.

Blanche is a strong woman, well-born but poor, who yearns for position and affluence. She is doing drudge work as a companion when she's contacted by Simon Fury, who wants her to come to Clare Hall, and look after his grand-daughter, Lavinia. Lavinia's father is played by Michael Gough, and he takes a shine to Blanche. But so, unfortunately, does the much more charismatic Philip Thorn (Granger) who believes he is the rightful owner of Clare, and has been denied his inheritance by the unfairness of the laws on illegitimacy.

There's a doom-laden feeling to the story, which proceeds at a sombre pace. By modern standards, the presentation of a gang of villainous gypsies seems like a classic example of unpleasant stereotyping, but leaving that issue aside, the story is quite a good one. It is, as I say, more of a melodrama than a murder mystery, but it's quite watchable The script was co-written by Audrey Erskine Lindop, who would later write I Start Counting, a novel which also became a successful film..

Forgotten Book - Love Lies Bleeding

I'm reading up on Edmund Crispin at the moment. It's always a pleasure to read such an entertaining writer, and the forthcoming Essex Book Festival, when I'll be taking part in a panel (with, among others, Crispin's biographer David Whittle) focused on Crispin's work. It will be a long journey to Southend, but I had a great time at the Festival a couple of years back, and I'm looking forward to this one.

Anyway, what about the book? Well, Love Lies Bleeding was published in 1948, and it's an excellent example of the traditional detective novel. Crispin offers all the classic ingredients - an elaborate alibi, more deaths than one, an appealing amateur detective, a chase, and clever fair-play clueing. There's plenty of humour, and literary heritage plays a central part in the storyline. Yes, you can take it than I'm a fan of this book, even if the complications of the plot do take some explaining at the end.

The book has a school setting, like so many vintage mysteries: Gladys Mitchell, Nicholas Blake, James Hilton, Agatha Christie, and R.C.Woodthorpe among others all saw the potential of the school (and I mean, of course, the fee-paying private/public school, not a state school of the kind I attended) as a setting for a murder mystery. It provides for a "closed circle" of suspects, and also a setting in which tensions and jealousies can erupt into violence.

Gervase Fen has been invited to give a speech at Castrevenford School, a boys' school, and his arrival coincides with the mysterious disappearance of a girl from the local girls' school. Soon, two murders are committed, and Fen fears for the safety of the missing girl. Superintendent Stagge is all too grateful for his help, and the plot thickens further when a young man on a walking tour discovers a third body. It's all done with rare skill. My only regret is that Crispin's active career as a crime novelist was so short. 

Villain - 1971 film review

Villain is a British gangster movie made around the same time as Mike Hodges' Get Carter. If anything, it boasts an even better cast, led by Richard Burton, Ian McShane, Nigel Davenport, Donald Sinden, T.P. McKenna, Joss Ackland, and Colin Welland. The script, rather bizarrely, was written by Dick Clement and Ian Le Frenais (more commonly associated with sitcoms), as well as an American writer. And the unsubtle soundtrack, I'm afraid, isn't a patch on Roy Budd's music for Get Carter. But it's an intriguing film, well worth watching, and based on a novel by James Barlow called The Burden of Proof.

Burton plays Vic Dakin, a sociopathic gay gang leader who is devoted to his mother but also susceptible to outbursts of violent temper. Evidently he was modelled on the Krays, His lover is Wolfie, played by McShane. Casting these two very charismatic male actors as a gay pair must have been a very audacious decision in 1971, and perhaps the audiences of that time weren't ready for it. Apparently a gay sex scene between the two men was cut from the film, but several rather nastily violent scenes were left in. Some of the violence in films (and even TV) in the Seventies seems very graphic and shocking when I watch it now. And the portrayal of pretty young women as sex objects is not only crude but also uninteresting. At least Britt Ekland was memorable in Get Carter..

Dakin and his crew get involved in an armed robbery that goes wrong, and the rest of the film deals with the consequences of the crime, as the cops, led by Davenport and Welland, pursue the bad guys with affable remorselessness. Sinden plays a crooked MP, alleged by some to be reminiscent of the late Lord Boothby, whom Wolfie blackmails into providing an alibi for Dakin.

This is a far from perfect film, for a variety of reasons, and not only because Burton's version of a Cockney accent is rather...well, Welsh. Get Carter is, in my opinion, a more sophisticated and effective film, but despite my reservations I must admit that I found myself quite gripped by Villain. The script is interesting, but really it's the star quality of the principal actors that stands out. . 

Fire in the Thatch - Lorac is back again!

Just over a month ago, I was delighted to report the republication, the first for many a long year, of E.C.R. Lorac's Bats in the Belfry. I've been very glad to learn from the British Library that the book has sold really well, and has already been reprinted. Quite something. And this more than vindicates the decision the Library took last year to acquire the rights to a second Lorac title, which has also now been published.

Fire in the Thatch has a rural setting, and so is very different in that respect, as well as in terms of plot, from Bats in the Belfry. In the early years of her career, Lorac often set her books in London, whereas later on, especially after she relocated to the Lune Valley, her main focus was on life (and death) in the countryside. The cover artwork of this particular edition strikes me as delightful, and very much in keeping with many readers' impression of Golden Age fiction.

There's no doubt that setting does influence the way one writes a novel. My first eight books all had urban backgrounds, seven in Liverpool, one in London, and when my new editor said he'd like me to consider a new series with a rural setting, I wasn't sure about it. In fact, I'm really glad I took up the challenge, and I'm sure that Lorac also enjoyed a change of scene for her crime stories. I don't want to give any spoilers in relation to Fire in the Thatch, but if you read it, you'll see that it is structured rather differently from Bats in the Belfry. Lorac was a more versatile writer than many people realise.

It will be interesting to see how Fire in the Thatch is received. My hope is that more Loracs will be republished, and there are certainly plenty of titles to choose from. The enthusiasm of readers for vintage crime stories seems, if anything, to be growing. The good news is that there are still plenty of titles out there waiting for someone to publish them...

Forgotten Book - The Doors Open

I've read Michael Gilbert's novel The Doors Open three times. First, when I was about 13 or 14 and was reading it purely as a light thriller. Second, when I'd qualified as a solicitor, and had become familiar with the legal case that Gilbert references in the book, and which may have inspired part of the plot. And third, recently, when I wanted to see how it stood up to the test of time .Each time, I found it an enjoyable read.

The Doors Open was Gilbert's third book, and first appeared in 1949. At that time, he was finding his way as a crime writer, although his smooth and readable style was already much in evidence. He'd begun with a classic detective puzzler, then followed with a thriller, and he would continue to ring the changes with his novels for about half a century. This versatility is admirable, in my view, though it may have meant that he never became quite such a household name as his gifts would have suggested.

The stern critics Barzun and Taylor regard this book as "his least satisfactory work", but I don't agree. On the contrary, it begins with an intriguing prologue, which relates to the theme of the book rather than the storyline itself, and then moves on to an equally intriguing chance encounter between a likeable young accountant and a middle-aged man who is contemplating suicide. The latter is subsequently found dead, and the police take little interest. But there is something suspicious about the case, and the young accountant starts to dig deeper. Before long, his curiosity puts his life in jeopardy.

A wide range of characters come into the story, including Nap Rumbold (who would go on to star in Death Has Deep Roots), Angus McCann, who had taking a lead role in Gilbert's previous novel, and Chief Inspector Hazlerigg, Different people take centre stage at different times. Stucturally, therefore, the book is rather unorthodox, but although this method of telling a story is risky, in my opinion Gilbert gets away with it, simply because he is such an accomplished entertainer. Worth seeking out.

Peter Lovesey - Beau Death - book review

Peter Lovesey is one of those writers - his friends Reginald Hill and Robert Barnard were among the others - whose crime novels I read and enjoyed long before meeting the author in person. I've followed his career closely for a long time, and although I've not read everything he's written, there aren't many gaps. He's a wonderful entertainer, and it was a pleasure as well as a privilege to interview him about his long career at Crimefest last year.

All this is by way of preamble to the news that he recently published his latest novel, another entry in the very popular Peter Diamond series. It's called Beau Death, and given that the Diamond series is set in Bath, you don't have to be a detective to figure out that the fascinating historical character of Beau Nash plays a significant part in the story, even though it is very much an up-to-the-minute contemporary mystery. There's even a scene set at an infinity pool.

The story opens with a dramatic discovery during the course of a house demolition. A skeleton is found, seated on a chair and in 18th century dress. Peter Diamond finds himself investigating the potentially the coldest of cases, and we learn a great deal about Nash, someone about whom I'd previously known very little. As well as supplying a reminder of the author's fascination with history, it's all very interesting. Of all British crime writers at work at present, I doubt if any supply more background information than Peter Lovesey, with the possible exception of Stephen Booth, and I'm pretty sure that for some of their fans, that is an important part of their books' appeal.

For me, Peter Lovesey's characterisation, humour, and plotting are key, and I'm glad to report that these elements are here in abundance. It's quite a long book, and one of the reasons for this is that the plot is deceptively elaborate, so that one never quite knows what is coming next. I have to admit that I was fooled by the final twist, and not for the first time by this admirable writer. And I should also add that there are plenty of incidental delights, including a witness who has a thing about the Royal Family, and a host of amusing set-pieces.

Mr Bowling is Back!

I'm delighted that Harper Collins have republished Donald Henderson's Mr Bowling Buys a Newspaper in their splendid Detective Story Club series. It's an interesting book by an extremely interesting author. And it was lauded by, among others, Raymond Chandler. He referred to the book in his famous essay "The Simple Art of Murder", and separately he said: "I think it is one of the most fascinating books written in the last ten years."

Many years ago, it was Chandler's essay that caused me to search out the book, but it wasn't easy to find. He pointed out that it hadn't sold many copies, and added "There is something wrong with the book business". Well, the book business is certainly odd at times, and always unpredictable. Henderson was unlucky, although at last he's receiving his due, a nicely produced and very reasonably priced hardback reprint.

I hope the book does really well, because Henderson and his work deserve to be better known. Another book of his, Goodbye to Murder, was published as a Pan paperback, but other than that I'd never seen any of his other novels until last year, when I came across several. And my interest has in part been inspired by Paul Harding, who has researched Henderson's life, and allowed me to see Henderson's unpublished memoir, "The Brink". I've written the intro to this new edition, and the information Paul shared with me was not only fascinating but really helpful.

Henderson had a life that was often sad, and he died in his mid-forties, just when his career might finally have been about to take off. But he really could write, and I hope and expect that this won't be the last of his books to gain a fresh life in the twenty-first century.

Forgotten Book - The Woman in the Sea

An older woman called Mrs Robinson seduces a naive young man. Sounds familiar? Well, my subject today is not The Graduate, but a much less familiar story, Shelley Smith's novel of 1948, The Woman in the Sea. It was her sixth book, and it's the work of an accomplished and interesting novelist, much admired by Julian Symons.

There's an Author's Note at the beginning, in which Smith states that "Looking about me for a suitable plot by which to illustrate certain aspects of morality which were much exercising my mind..." she recalled a real life case which seemed "to provide a framework both solid and pliable enough for my purpose". Here she is referring, I have little doubt, to the Rattenbury and Stoner case of 1935 (although that case bears uncanny similarities to the earlier, and even more famous, Thompson and Bywaters case).  She denies that her characters are intended to represent their real life counterparts,and on the whole I think this denial is not disingenuous, but fair enough. Francis Rattenbury, for instance, led a very different life from Zoe Robinson's husband Bertram.

The book has a prologue involving the discovery of the body, and essentially the rest of the story is a flashback, recounting the events in a doom-laden house which led up to that particular death. I suspect that Smith realised that her method of structuring the story reduced the tension, but that she though it a price worth paying. A debatable decision, as far as I'm concerned, but despite being quite sure how it was all going to end, I kept reading.

This is because Smith was a writer of genuine ability and intelligence. She could plot very well when she wanted to, but her main concern here was with those issues of morality. To a modern reader, perhaps these are not quite as compelling as they were in 1948, but the account of Zoe's affair with a really rather stupid lad is handled with some poignancy. I'm glad I read it. Smith's constant determination to try to do something different strikes me as admirable.