Mystery Liner

Professor Grimson invents a device which can power a liner by remote control. Obviously enemy spies would love to get ahold of the device and send an agent to mix among the various vacationers unnoticed while he or she sabotaged the ship. The inventor is strangled and the crew must wait until the steering experiment is proven a success before the saboteur strikes, and what has this all to do with the ship's captain, Holling taking ill right before the ship is to depart. Very shoddy script and direction send this one to Davy Jones locker. The first 45 minutes is describing parts of the mechanism, then introducing the passengers and watching them mingle with each other before anything remotely interesting happens at the end, which last about three minutes, and seems so out of place with the pace of the earlier footage. Not good, even by Monogram standards. Zeffie Tilbury is annoying as the old lady looking for romance. Only plus for this film for me, was that, as always, Astrid Allwyn looked cute as a button. Edwin Maxwell and Gustav Von Seyffertitz lend a sinister presence. Rating- 3.

The story in this B-feature has some fairly interesting developments, and it makes the movie just worth watching despite a very slow pace and some other weaknesses. The acting performances vary in quality from solid to weak, and the production is adequate most of the time. So in most respects it is a typical B-movie of its era, but the story offered some possibilities that might have furnished the basis of a better movie.

The story starts with a liner preparing to test a Professor's device for using remote-control to guide the ship from a laboratory. The experiment is complicated by the captain's nervous breakdown and by an on-board murder. The ship also contains numerous passengers, some with various eccentricities and others with some suspicious characteristics. While the setup could have been taken in a number of different directions, the way it actually develops is probably as good as any.

One of the main things that keeps it from being better is that too many of the key characters never take form, remaining uninteresting and one-dimensional. Likewise, the dialogue never approaches the interest level of the story. And too often, things move very slowly, making it seem longer than the running time.

On the plus side, it maintains the mystery level rather well, and it does hold your attention. The atmosphere is not always maintained, but for much of the time the shipboard setting is used fairly well. More than anything, the remote-control idea is used in a way that was rather creative for its era, and it almost provides enough interest in itself to make you keep watching.

This Edgar Wallace murder mystery takes place aboard an ocean liner being piloted automatically, as everyone and his grandmother is trying to get hold of the tube that pilots the ship without benefit of human hands. Ed Maxwell, veteran of the early silver seen, has a decent role as an investigating private eye. He may remind some of Nero Wolfe. Zeffie Tilbury, as Granny Plympton, a familiar face from Little Rascals shorts, was the most annoying character. No mystery here, and dreadfully acted and sound-produced to boot. It feels like a play transferred directly to Hollywood. Some of the performers would appear to have come right from the NY stage.

And that is saying something for these mysteries from the 30s that usually have plots that are so muddled that you are constantly having to rewind to figure out what is going on.

Though Mr. Beery is at the top of the cast list, his onscreen time is minimal - opening and closing scenes. The rest of the cast split the screen time about evenly.

A ship's Captain is relieved of duty for medical reasons. His first officer takes over as Captain while the ship carries out an experiment in remote control by use of special equipment previously installed. A remote land base will take over when in open waters.

Though it appears as if this ship is a passenger cruise liner with many people boarding and waving off with streamers as it leaves dock, it is depicted as a cargo ship as it exits the harbor. The story brings only a few passengers to our attention as it unravels. Mostly it's the Captain(s), crew, and an investigator - along with some short scenes of an unnamed enemy group attempting to sieze control of the ship by means of their own remote system.

There are no notable performances or personalities just an espionage/murder-mystery which reveals itself nicely leaving no loose ends.

The most interesting scenes were those of the experimental equipment. They made noises like those in Henry Frankenstein's laboratory - vaguely resembled them visually. Popping, crackling, buzzing. Also, the iPad-like message transmitter, by which you write your message in handwriting script using a stylus - it appears nearly instantly onscreen at the receiver's end.

This is the kind of low rent movie Monogram was justifiably famous for when they weren't making no budget westerns. Secret agents, secret passages, etc.

This one has to do with a government project to control ships at sea with a radio control device called S505. In order to test the device, the scientific team installs it in a cruise ship with the cooperation of the captain and his staff. This was 1934 and we didn't actually have an enemy, so Monogram created a "foreign power" as the antagonist, and installed a couple of agents aboard the ship to steal the main component of the device and sabotage the experiment. We spend the rest of the picture trying to figure out who is who - and there really are secret passages.

Monogram, as was their practice, cast this picture with fading stars and familiar character actors. This effort stars Noah Beery although he only shows up at the beginning and end of the show. The real "star" is Edwin Maxwell, supported by George Cleveland and Gustav Von Seyffertitz. You get the picture.

I won't go any further into the story. It is a pretty formulaic spy yarn you could find on any double bill in any cheap theater back in the old days. But there are those of us that really love them. In fact, although I live in New Mexico, I recently made a pilgrimage to Hollywood. Not for the usual reasons, but to track back the homes and locations of my favorite old time actors and the locations of all those Poverty Row studios of the day. I actually found the original office address of Monogram at the wrong end of Sunset Blvd. I'm afraid most devotees would be disappointed to find that the actual address is occupied by a take out chicken joint. The sound stages across the street are now occupied by what appears to be a television station. I didn't care. I was standing on hallowed ground. I could imagine "The Duke", (whose ranch location I also visited in Encino) driving through the gate in his Chrysler Phantom.

The movie has a predictable ending, but the trip there is still entertaining. I have a brother who probably wouldn't appreciate it because it doesn't have a message, it doesn't have a basso thematic orchestration with all the bells and gongs, and it doesn't excite the viewer with sweeping visual images. But for the rest of us peasants, it rounds out the weekend just like grilled bratwurst, potato salad and beer.