The Florentine Dagger

In fact some of the dialogue is so out there it's actually an asset versus a distraction for this little B mystery film from Warner Brothers. The stars are all good performers, with Margaret Lindsay being a 30's post-code favorite actress of mine. But some of that dialogue - and just some of it - seems like it was produced by title card writers from 1910. I just don't know how Donald Woods and Margaret Lindsay could keep a straight face given some of their campy lines.

The story starts with three visitors to the famous abandoned castle of the Borgias in Italy. One is producer Victor Ballau (Henry O'Neill), another is psychiatrist Gerard Lytton (C. Aubrey Smith), and a third is a troubled young man (Donald Woods) who is the last of the Borgias - his namesake is Cesare Borgia to whom he bears a remarkable likeness. The troubled young man, Juan Cesare, attempts suicide to prevent himself from becoming a murderer when he feels the Borgia urge to kill rise up in him. Fortunately his attempt is thwarted by Dr. Lytton. Instead, Juan goes to Vienna where he recovers from his obsessions with his heritage and writes a play for Ballau that is about the Borgias. Juan cannot find the perfect Lucrezia Borgia for his play until he meets Ballau's step-daughter Florence (Margaret Lindsay). The long and short of it is that Victor Ballau winds up dead in his study one night, stabbed to death with one of the Florentine daggers he possesses that once belonged to the Borgias. There are many suspects, and the mystery has many unexpected twists and turns and for that matter, many improbabilities.

One of the goofiest and best things about this film besides its campy dialogue is Robert Barrat's performance as Police Inspector Von Brinkner who is in charge of the murder investigation. Von Brinkner's not a threatening kind of fellow at all, and he's given to all kinds of appetite, usually found to be chewing on brie and the finest food he can scrounge when he isn't chewing scenery, or talking to his girlfriend on the phone. However he turns out to be surprisingly competent and generous. Watch and find out what I mean.

One thing you'll probably note is the precode ending a full year after the production code went into effect. Again, you'll have to watch to find out what I mean, but I just don't know how the censors let this ending stand as it did.

Florentine Dagger, The (1935)

** (out of 4)

Yet another murder/mystery with this time a young play-write (Donald Woods) stopping off in a small village where he meets a beautiful young woman (Margaret Lindsay) who he wants in his latest play. Soon the play is a hit and they want to be married but her father (Henry O'Neill) refuses permission but soon he's found dead with a dagger in his heart. That's pretty much the set-up to this thing but in the end I found the majority of the picture to be downright boring with very little going for it. I've always thought Florey did his best work outside this genre as it just seemed like he never could pull things together very well. I think the biggest problem with this film isn't his direction but instead it's the screenplay that doesn't offer up any decent characters and the weak story is just a major drag. I had a very hard time getting into the film early on simply because the characters were all underwritten and even worse is the fact that the movie itself doesn't really know what it wants to do. Yes, we eventually get the mystery but everything is pretty dry without any small laughs and the romance is pretty boring as well. Woods is usually a very reliable actor but even he seems very bored here as he goes from one scene to another without too much energy and seems to be lacking any type of passion. Lindsay is also pretty bland in his role but so is O'Neill as the soon-to-be-dead father and Robert Barrat does very little with the Inspector role. C. Aubrey Smith is good as the doctor who ends up staying close to Woods. Florey does add a couple nice touches including a rich atmosphere in the house as well as a few other scenes where the darkness does some justice but in the end this thing is just too flat for its own good.

Donald Woods plays a descendant of the infamous Borgia family who believes he is predestined for evil. When the father of the girl he loves (Margaret Lindsay) is murdered, Woods worries he might be responsible. I'm a big fan of Margaret Lindsay. She's one of my favorite actresses from this period that doesn't get much recognition and she's the primary reason I watched this. She doesn't have a very juicy part but she makes the most of it. Donald Woods is boxing above his weight class here. The role requires a more theatrical actor I think. Woods is a little too stiff for such a neurotic character. Robert Barrat steals every scene he's in as the police inspector investigating the murder. A minor thing but I liked the use of model trains in a couple of early scenes. It may seem cheap today but I think it adds a quaint charm to the movie. A nice little programmer from WB with a neat ending. A little silly at times but interesting enough to warrant checking out.

The Florentine Dagger is a strange little film full of atmosphere, but lacking the acting punch that might have put it over. A story of the curse of the Borgias in modern-day Vienna opens with three travelers (Donald Woods, C. Aubrey Smith, and Henry O'Neill) making a trip to a remote village in Italy where the Borgia castle still stands. The old inn is full of atmosphere and run my strange people (Charles Judels, Rafaella Ottiano). They take a tour which allows the viewer to be given the story of the Borgias' madness and its generational effects. Woods is Casare Borgia, the spitting image of an ancient ancestor (although the name is pronounced Cesar throughout the film). Woods decides to end the madness and orders a drug from the local apothecary. However, Smith (a psychiatrist) intervenes and tells Woods that the potion is fake. O'Neill is a famous theatrical producer. So Smith advises that Woods write a play and purge his Borgia madness. Of course Woods writes a play about Lucretia Borgia, which O'Neill produces. He also casts his "daughter" in the lead (Margaret Lindsay). The play is the talk of Vienna.

Woods and Lindsay fall in love, but O'Neill is stabbed to death with one of the three Florentine daggers we had seen displayed earlier. Woods becomes the main suspect because of his erratic behavior and he is, after all, a Borgia. But Lindsay seems a tad off also. And Smith is always lurking. Enter the local inspector (Robert Barrat), a happy fellow who seems totally uninvolved with the murder case and is always receiving phone calls from Julia. Lindsay had left the play in a rush and is jailed on suspicion of murder. But then there is another dagger attack—this time on Smith. That clears Lindsay. Or does it? The police had let her go. Woods and Smith end up at an auction house, following a wigmaker (Eily Malyon) who buys the candle sticks that were found by O'Neill's body. Everyone converges at the wigmaker's shop and the crime is solved. All very tidy and clever. Barrat threatens to steal the film from the more stolid actors, but his character is too unbelievable, especially as he lets the murderer go free! Go figure.

Paul Porcasi is a police man, Henry Kolker is the auctioneer, Florence Fair is the weird maid, Herman Bing (who has no part) is the baker, Louise Seidel is his assistant, and Frank Reicher is the stage manager. Woods is boring, Lindsay is miscast, and Smith is relatively subdued. Only Barrat and Malyon seem to have much life. Judels serves as the castle your host, but Ottiano seems irrelevant to the story. Makes one wonder about the editing here as Ottiano and Bing have no reasons to be in the story. And the play is a STINKER!

This 65-minute mystery was part of the Warner Brothers' "Clue Club" series of programmers. Most of these short thrillers are truly unwatchable melanges of slapstick and skullduggery. The Florentine Dagger is a little better, and does keep one's interest with the foggy Viennese (as opposed to foggy London) locations, production values that aren't bottom-of-the-barrel, and a story that involves a descendant of the Borgias. C. Aubrey Smith lends a real whiff of greasepaint to the proceedings. Don't waste your life waiting for this one to roll around, but, if you catch it, you may find it a tolerable way to pass an hour.