Murder on the Campus

Veteran police captain J. Farrell MacDonald and young newspaper reporter Charles Starrett: Why are they such good friends? MacDonald is, as usual, the crusty police captain who suspects everyone and trusts no one...except, apparently, this cub reporter who follows him around on this case and is readily admitted to all interviews and interrogations, even though Starrett's character is quite frankly in love with the main suspect MacDonald is after. In any case, the two actors play well off of each other, and together they keep the story moving fast.

There's been a murder up in the campus bell tower; the murdered character was apparently something of an uncultured impostor who was only in the school because of his athletic prowess. (Little else is known about him except that he had been brought out to the college from some godforsaken outpost called Minnesota.) Chemistry student Lillian Voyne (Shirley Grey) had had an appointment to meet the victim right at the time of the murder. Did she do it? How could she have—the body was locked alone at the top of the tower! What about her friend, the suspiciously behaving Ann (played by Ruth Hall in a too small part)? And what is the part in all of this of the mysterious gambler Blackie Atwater? Can noted criminologist Prof. Hawley (Edward Van Sloan, looking very at home in the role) assist in solving the crime?

It's a pretty slick 70 minutes that doesn't hold a lot of surprises but does pack in some suspense. Well worthwhile for us fans of these B mysteries.

N.B. Those looking for a realistic depiction of college life in the 1930s are advised to stick with the Marx Brothers' Horse Feathers.

A student is killed at the top of a tower on a college campus. No one saw anyone come down from the tower and there was no place for the killer to hide. Charles Starrett plays Bill Bartlett a reporter who just happened to be on the scene of the crime. He's interested in a girl who becomes one of the suspects in the murder.She is working her way through college as a singer in a night club run by a gambler known as Blackie. As more deaths occur the reasons for the murder become less clear, especially as we learn about some of the suspects.

This is one of those movies thats just okay and under normal circumstances you'd turn off the TV and go to bed but because things manage to be just interesting enough you find you're staying up well past your bed time. Don't get me wrong its a good movie, but its nothing special, but once the first body is found and you realize short of flying no one could have killed him you end up pretty much hooked. I sat there trying to go to bed, yawning, and unwilling to turn off the DVD because I had to see how it was done and why (I knew who the killer was the instant the actor/actress appeared on screen). Don't watch this too late or you'll end up up 70 minutes past your bedtime.

Worth a rental, an hour of your time and a bag of popcorn. You won't remember it but you will enjoy it.

I'm convinced that serious moviewatchers need to perform regular, frequent cinematic calisthenics. And that these must include some wading through old, forgotten 30's era mysteries. These unsung projects collectively are the foundation of many of the storytelling conventions we use today.

Mysteries from this era are true detective stories that "play fair" in allowing you to outguess the writer. It is participative viewing of the kind that persists in other forms in movie stories. Here it is pure. This example is a good one for your daily toneup.

It features a narrator which is literally a reporter, a typical trick. It also has an impossible murder, impossible as it turns out in several ways. There are the comedic cops as well as a co-detective doctor. (Doctors in that era were considered men of science.)

You'll have a hard time not guessing the murderer, but how early do you think you can?

Incidentally, this is set on a college campus. You'll not find it easy to relate to these students.

Ted's Evaluation -- 2 of 3: Has some interesting elements.

Shirley Grey is a very popular girl on campus, despite having to work. For that, she's a singer down at a local night club. When a series of murders occur, she winds up as a suspect. But her boy friend, reporter Charles Starrett, doesn't believe she did it. This cuts no ice with chief of police J. Farrell MacDonald, nor his sergeant, Dewey Robinson.

It's a Chesterfield picture, directed by Richard Thorpe. He was slowly climbing his way out of Poverty Row. This means he gets good performances out of a cast that includes Edward Van Sloan, Maurice Black, and Al Bridge.

The problems arise with the issue of uncovering who committed the murders, and why. Miss Grey is an early suspect. She clearly knows things that's she's not telling, which makes her a prime suspect in the eyes of the police, if not of anyone who knows how mysteries like this are plotted. Just once, I'd like to see the girl friend turn out to be the murderer, despite the insistence of her adoring lover. The information is revealed in clumps as they are told to Starrett, with a log monologue to explain method and motives Still, despite problems with the script, it's a good mystery, and the performances are nothing to sneer at.

I guess college isn't quite the way it was in my day. Young men and women living in extravagant suites, in the lap of luxury. They also looked a bit old for college students. This is a bit soporific. It involves a woman who works at a nightclub who is studying for her law degree. Once again, people are kept in the dark about the realities of things. I've seen so many movies where the characters keep things a secret, even when they don't have to. A man has been murdered in a bell tower and there is an investigation. I can see no reason whey the principles in the movie are even suspects, but they are. The detectives and a reporter continually coming in contact as the body count rises. I'm still not sure of the motives and the cover-up. Reputation? Fear? Love? Not sure. It also ends a bit suddenly. I suppose the young woman is going to marry the hunk and give up that nonsense about having a career. It's the thirties; it's the depression. Oh, well.