The Florentine Dagger

Three travelers arrive by train and check in at the Hotel Cesare Borgia, somewhere in Italy: Henry O'Neill, a drama producer, there to read some plays; C. Aubrey Smith, a doctor who has prescribed himself some rest; and Donald Woods, who doesn't say why he's there but looks just like the hotel's portrait of Cesare Borgia.

Woods, a descendant of the infamous Borgia family, intends to kill himself in the ancestral village. Luckily, however, psychiatrist Smith convinces him to try writing a play to rid himself of his demons. Next thing we know, Woods is in Vienna where he's written a play about the Borgias and producer O'Neill is preparing it for the stage. When O'Neill's daughter Margaret Lindsay shows up, Woods knows immediately that she is perfect for the role of Lucretia.

It's a unique setup that gradually develops into a more standard mystery plot: Woods falls in love with beautiful Lindsay, her father forbids their marriage and soon afterwards is found murdered. The murder weapon? An ancient dagger supposed to be an actual Borgia relic. The suspects? Those closest to the murdered man. Woods investigates as best he can, his old pal Aubrey Smith takes on the psychological angle, and Lindsay seems like she might be shielding someone - but whom?

Robert Barrat has a good role as a humorous police inspector (who keeps calling his wife to tell her whether he'll be home late). Woods and Lindsay are fine as the leads. C. Aubrey Smith does a nice job, as always, as the shrewd older gentleman.

Overall, this B mystery tries to be something a little different and mostly succeeds.

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.

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!

A modern descendant of the Borgia's grapples with what he thinks are murderous family genes, which leads to a mysterious family scandal, a real murder, and a surprise ending.

Oddball little movie, not quite a whodunit since the suspects are too under-developed to pick through. The result is more like an early noir with Cesare (Woods) struggling against dark forces and maybe fate, too. In fact, I'll bet the lighting bill didn't exceed 5 bucks. Also, I'm with the reviewer pointing out that Woods lacks the expressive depth to play the central character effectively. Too bad, because that would have made the movie more memorable. On the other hand, there's the craggy-faced Aubrey Smith as a commanding head doctor, and a most un- cop-like Robert Barrat as chief cop. And what about actress Eily Malyon whose close-ups are enough to scare off both Karloff and Lugosi.

All in all, I'm not sure the movie knows where it wants to go. The threads do not blend well. Still, there are some creepy moments that manage to compensate. Then too there's that surprise ending where justice happily triumphs over law. Looks like the screenplay (1935) managed to sneak this by a newly installed Production Code (1934). Anyway, my guess is that when Barrat leaves the airport he's headed to the Playboy Club no matter what he's told the wife.

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.