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This is a very peculiar episode that leaves the viewer with more questions than answers. The identity of those responsible is not hard to divine, but the question is why? General insanity stopped being a glib rationale for murder in Victorian era fiction. Neither is Tom Barnaby's strong, handsy attraction to a female doctor fully explained, and even more surprising, his wife Joyce doesn't seem to notice or mind. Nor does Tom's daughter Cully. Only DS Troy seems to not approve (and throughout, Troy demonstrates a certain disdain for his guv'nor, which is a reflection of the characters in the early books). Elsewhere, this rigidly moral copper simply shrugs his shoulders at one character's violent attack on another with scores of witnesses because...well, we don't know why. Some supporting characters are so batty that they seem to have wandered in from an old episode of "The Avengers." One is obsessed with rope, while another has delusions of being the John Phillip Sousa of Midsomer County. Meanwhile one crimson herring who knew the truth all along manages to keep it to himself until the end because...well, because the show's ninety minutes long, and had he told the police when he first became a suspect it would have been much shorter. There's lovely photography and fine acting by all involved, particularly very young Perdita Weeks and Anna Macguire, but not everything makes sense, and nothing really explains the mystery of WHY people are doing what they're doing. There's means and opportunity galore, but not a lot of motive.

If "San Antonio Rose" is remembered today at all, it's for the spectacle of turning Lon Chaney Jr. And Shemp Howard into an ersatz Abbott and Costello. Maybe it was planned for A&C until their first starring film, "Buck Privates," became such a smash, and this would have been a step back. What it appears to be is a studio exercise in trying to figure out how to use a raft of new contractees. Chaney was new to Universal and was months away from scoring as its new horror star, which meant he was put in everything from comedies to Westerns to serials. Shemp was under contract as well, and stuck wherever he was needed. Robert Paige, another contractee, was a road company Dick Powell, and used as a signing leading man when needed. Then there's "The Merry Macs," three singing brothers named McMichael who were kind of a male Andrews Sisters. This film is something of a vehicle for them. The supporting cast features some comedy veterans in bit roles, including Three Stooges foil Vernon Dent; Bobby Barber, an underrated funnyman who would become Lou Costello's assistant and court jester; Charlie Hall, whose best work was with Laurel and Hardy; and acrobatic comic Frank Mitchell. As for Chaney and Howard, they come off more like a reversed George-and-Lennie duo, with huge Chaney the sharp one and diminutive Shemp acting like he's developmentally challenged. Chaney actually gets more laughs on his own. Bottom line: if you must watch the film, watch it for Eve Arden, who walks away with it through her trademark sass and timing.