Murder by the Clock

... in this thriller that combines the atmosphere of the Universal horror films of the 1930's with the feel of the sophisticated precodes of Paramount. This is a rare chance to see Lilyan Tashman in a leading role, and she is spot on as a woman who wants wealth and comfort by any means possible and sees her ability to manipulate men to do her bidding as key to her plan.

Our story opens as does the film Frankenstein from this same year - 1931 - in a foggy graveyard with a group of mourners gathered around a grave. Into the scene strolls old Mrs. Endicott with her maid and son to visit the family crypt. However, honoring the dead is not her purpose, instead she is there to insure that her own crypt is in working order. Mrs. Endicott has a fear of being buried alive and has a creepy sounding horn installed in her own vault so that if she is erroneously interred she can sound the alarm and be rescued. Thus she likes to try it out from time to time to see if it still works.

The Endicotts are apparently a family whose tree has deep and wealthy roots but withering leaves. There are only two possible heirs to the Endicott fortune in that tree - Mrs. Endicott's brutish idiot son Philip and her alcoholic weakling of a nephew, Herbert. Philip has made it clear that his highest goal in life is to kill people with his bare hands, so Mrs. Endicott leaves her fortune to her nephew. Philip has enough IQ points to know he's been supplanted and is upset about the situation, and Herbert is happy because now he hopes his wife Laura (Lilyan Tashman) will stop nagging him about money now that she can know her future is secure.

The night that the new will is drawn up and signed Mrs. Endicott is strangled to death. Soon after the funeral, Herbert and Laura take up residence in the Endicott ancestral home, Herbert is strangled as well. Shortly after that the alarm from Mrs. Endicott's tomb rings out. What's going on here? Watch and find out. There are secret passages, shadowy figures in the fog, and best of all Ms. Tashman, making Jezebel look like Betty Crocker. William Stage Boyd plays police lieutenant Valcour who is trying to get to the bottom of all of this. Will he succumb to Lilyan's poisonous poise, or will he solve the crime? Remember that this is the precode era and unjust outcomes were allowed and did occur in American film during this time.

I highly recommend this one for anybody who likes the old dark house films of the 30's.

An ice blooded femme fatale uses her wiles to eliminate the men who stand between her and a fortune. More a psychological study than a mystery, it may be a bit creaky by today's standards, but still is surprisingly entertaining.

I was captured from the opening scene which takes place in a murky old Gothic style graveyard...then we move on to inside the tombs! Yeah, this is a good one. It's borderline horror with a large cast of weird characters, an excellent evil, evil woman, and all kinds of cool vintage strangeness. In one scene a corpse in disinterred to make certain she is really dead(yeah). Then an old woman sits holding said corpse which was dead and had been for awhile. A detective looks at the body and says..."yeah, she's cold as ice," WHOA! The actor who plays the super strong Quasimodo type dude was terrific as were most of the cast. This is one you don't want to miss. Find it, along with MURDER AT DAWN, if you are a fan of vintage horror or suspense. Its not really a mystery because you find out who did it right away. Tons of fun with this one! They don't make them like this anymore...and probably never will. Great lighting too.

Curiously enough, none of the previous reviewers have picked up on this film's title, which has negligible bearing upon anything that actually happens; of which there is plenty. What 'Murder by the Clock' sorely lacks is decent direction, editing and a music score; what it has is a jaunty plot, a magnificent (though underused) churchyard and crypt set, atmospheric photography by Karl Struss, an entertaining cast of wierdos and weaklings. And the breathtaking Lilyan Tashman.

Blanche Friderici is Julia Endicott, matriarch of the Endicott clan, plainly nearing the end of its thinning bloodline; her only heirs being Philip (Irving Pichel), a hulking simpleton capable of breaking a man's neck with his bare hands but little else, and Herbert (Walter McGrail) a drunken weakling completely under the thumb of his gold digging wife Laura, who Julia sums up as "a malicious designing creature, ought to be hung for a witch." The late Lilyan Tashman is an absolute blast as this platinum blonde Lady Macbeth smirking evilly one minute, shedding crocodile tears the next while flirting like mad with every man in sight with a pulse ("I could be awfully fond of you"), her curvaceous, Amazonian chassis seductively on display in a clinging satin number that would probably have caused censorship problems a few years later.

The unfunny comic relief provided by Irish cop Regis Toomey and maid Sally O'Neil is rendered wholly superfluous by Tashman's rollicking performance, which gets plenty of appreciative laughs. She meets her match, however, in Lt. Valcour (William 'Stage' Boyd), who engages her in a final battle of wills, "one artist to another".

Disagreeable Blanche Friderici disinherits her son, Irving Pichel, who is a death-obsessed dullard, in favor of her nephew, Walter McGrail. He may be a drunk, and married to money-hungry Lilyan Tashman who's carrying on an affair with artist Lester Vail, she reasons, but he's not a brute. Miss Tashman tries to convince her husband the old lady should die tonight before she can change her mind, and she, she means they, can enjoy the money. And so the old lady is murdered, and the police come along. The chief of police thinks it's obviously Pichel, but lieutenant William 'Stage' Boyd is not so sure.

Three more murders and a resurrection take place in this Old Dark House mystery. It's certainly a creepy movie, what with the low light levels and creepy performances, but it shows the strength and weakness of director Edward Sloman. Visually it's perfect, but some of the performances are distinctly off; Sloman never really got out of the silent and largely depended on performers who could direct themselves, or a good dialogue director. Perhaps that's why the best performances are offered by Regis Toomey and Sally O'Neal, whose comic courtship amidst death and gloom are most welcome.