Green Eyes

The thirties were a dynamic decade where films turned from stilted and simple to dynamic with depth. This is a film that was made in the transition. At first, you think it is too simple with a hokey soundtrack. Then you get wrapped up in the story and find that this is a great short and to the point who done it. The film is black and white. It sort of has that Charlie Chan feels.

The story is a screenplay that has the look of a stage play. It is based on the novel "The Murder of Steven Kester" By H. Ashbrook. Jean Kester is in the process if eloping with Michael Tracy. So, people will not follow them they cut the phone lines and everyone's distributor wires. Now Jean's ruthless grandfather is found disposed of. It looks mighty suspicious. The house is full of people that were invited to a costume party. The police gat little cooperation from any of the guests. Before the day is over it will look like everyone had motive and opportunity. We may even find a few more deaths.

What part do green eyes play in the movie?

This somewhat less than rewarding production is based closely upon a novel by Harriette Ashbrook: "The Murder Of Steven Kester", to a point of its inclusion of substantial swatches of Ashbrook's stilted dialogue, but since the original book remains safely confined within a rather narrow spectrum of sleuthing utilized by the English writer, it can be no surprise that the film is also dull and generally predictable. Action opens briskly with assistant director Melville Shyer, who also contributes the script, effectively leading a congregation of extras during a lively costume party sequence, this festivity organized at the home of wealthy Steven Kester by his granddaughter Jean (Shirley Grey) as a diversion to facilitate her unobstructed elopement with beau Cliff Miller (William Bakewell). Here the pace of the film begins to flag as journeyman director Richard Thorpe mishandles the tempo following discovery of Steven Kester's corpse, decorated with stab wounds, and a homicide investigation then begins under the supervision of Captain (or Chief, at times Inspector) Crofton (John Wray) who fails to acknowledge any recognizable form of correct investigative police procedures as he browbeats a large contingent of available suspects. Needless to report, many of these latter have apparent motives to have committed the slaying, and if Crofton neglects one of them, a meddlesome crime novelist, Michael Tracy (Charles Starrett), a recurring lead character as "Spike Tracy" in the publications of Ashbrook, is on hand to abet the detective. Viewers, however, will not require similar assistance, due to the story hardly being abstruse enough to challenge most armchair detectives. Production values for this low tier Chesterfield Pictures item are expectedly paltry, but some performances from players are to be valued, in particular a brief turn by Lloyd Whitlock, and neatly developed characterizations from Grey and Dorothy Revier as female suspects. Director Thorpe, ever respectful of his cast members, and especially of those whom are stage trained, leads with a loose rein.

Charles Starrett is a writer of murder mysteries who gets involved in—yes, a murder mystery. Nothing too original in Green Eyes, but a fair assortment of suspects and intriguing clues help maintain interest. Once again, it's a murder in a big old house in which nearly all of the film's action occurs. The event which sets the story in motion is the murder of the house's owner, one Steven Kester, during a costume party, and it's quickly established that his guests, his employees and even his granddaughter are not particularly sad to see him go. Even his butler can't find anything nice to say about him:

Inspector Crofton: "What kind of a man was Mr. Kester to work for?" Lenox the butler: "He was a Simon Legree, sir. It's been most difficult to put up with him these past 20 years."

For the first half of the film, John Wray as the inspector barks out a good half of all the dialog spoken as he rounds up clues and lays out the facts and motives. In the second half, we see more of Starrett as he quietly investigates while more noisily presenting a rather foppish front to most of the group.

Shirley Grey and Dorothy Revier, as the two women involved in the case, are given just enough screen time to hint that their characters could contain some interesting depths; but alas, a 70-minute movie holds limited space for developing character studies.

Nice touches: the goofy getups sported by the guests in the opening costume party and ensuing interrogation; the "green eyes" of the title; and a clever closing bit with Starrett at his typewriter.

Cops investigate a costume party murder in a rich man's mansion.

Thoroughly routine whodunit, despite the promising opening scenes. Not surprisingly, it's one of the type popular in the 30's, when amateur sleuths out-sleuthed the professionals. Here it's Charles Starrett as a novelist figuring out the clues before the cops do. But at least the screenplay doesn't turn the head cop into some kind of buffoon as often happened in these 30's programmers.

Now I'm used to seeing Starrett with a six-gun and Stetson giving the bad guys a hard-eyed stare. So, seeing him here as a loosey-goosey lounge lizard in alpine shorts took some getting used to. But he does liven up the acting, which otherwise tends toward the dull side. Still, that last scene in the lethal bedroom stands as a real grabber of staging. Too bad the rest of the movie doesn't show a similar level of imagination.

(In passing—Am I mistaken or does Starrett look like an early version of Rock Hudson.)

This is a well made mystery film from 1934 with a conclusion that makes sense. It would be difficult to ascertain that from most of the reviews on this database that discuss this film, however. I am not sure why they even bother to watch it in the first place, since they seem to dislike it so much. The police are portrayed as "morons" says one review, but I didn't see them like that. The cast consists of "unknowns" says another. Charles Starrett who received second billing may have not been a big star in 1934, but beginning in 1935 he signed a contract with Columbia Pictures and had his own series of Westerns until 1952. He was able to quit the series and retire at 48, a wealthy man.