Moss Rose

It's that smudge of fog called London under the reign of Victoria. When a music-hall dancer is murdered, a moss rose marks the page of a Bible next to her body. Luckily, another chorus girl (Peggy Cummins) saw a gentleman (Victor Mature) leaving the lodgings. She approaches him directly, saying she'll go to the police if he doesn't meet her demands, but he brushes her off contemptuously. When he learns she's dead serious, he tries to buy her off with a thick wad of pound notes. But it's not money she's after; all she wants is two weeks at his country estate, living the life of a `lady.'

And here Moss Rose, which has taken its time working up a head of steam, branches off onto a new siding. The estate contains not only Mature, his fiancée (Patricia Medina) and his formidable old dowager mother (Ethel Barrymore), but also a greenhouse where out-of-season moss roses bloom.

Apart from a few Eliza-Doolittle faux pas, the classes do not clash. Barrymore, in fact, extends Cummins a matey welcome; even Medina tries to put aside her understandable jealousy. The only apple of discord falls when Cummins strays innocently into Mature's boyhood rooms, which Barrymore preserves as a secret shrine.

Cummins finds the pastoral scene (`You'd expect to see a calendar pasted under it!' she exclaims) lives up to all her expectations. Thrown together, Mature has thawed markedly towards Cummins, and she towards him. But their idyll comes under siege with the arrival from London of bumbling Scotland Yard detective and amateur horticulturist Vincent Price, still investigating that pesky homicide. Soon there's another murder, another Bible, and another moss rose....

An old-dark-house costume drama akin to My Name Is Julia Ross or The Spiral Staircase, Moss Rose finds its strength in its actors rather than its direction (by Gregory Ratoff). While Mature stays four-square and Price unctuously fey, Barrymore predictably grande-dames it to the hilt. Cummins is lovely and quite good as a Cockney diamond-in-the-rough, but leaves nothing like the impression she would two years later as Annie Laurie Starr in Gun Crazy. An air of the contrived lingers after Moss Rose, more faded than pungent, but it's cozy and reassuring, too.

This is a movie adaptation of a Marjorie Reynolds book that I just recently discovered, and I'm glad I did. It's not very long, but there's enough packed into it to hold your interest. Peggy Cummins does an excellent job in the starring role of Belle Adair (a.k.a. Rose Lynton), a chorus girl in late 19thc London, who becomes amateur sleuth, as she investigates her friend Daisy's murder. The movie co-stars Victor Mature as Michael Drego, whom Belle suspects is the killer. There's also Ethel Barrymore, who plays Michael's mother, Lady Margaret Drego, and Vincent Price, as Police Inspector Climmer.

Wanting to better herself socially, Belle bargains with Michael (whom she gradually decides is innocent): she'll keep quiet about some incriminating evidence, if he'll take her to his family estate, where she can learn to be a lady. Her presence there intrigues his mother and displeases his fiancee, Audrey (Patricia Medina), but for Belle it's like a dream come true, as she enjoys being in such lovely surroundings, wearing nice clothes, learning to ride and just feeling special. (Not to mention, falling in love with Michael and having those feelings returned.) However, trouble looms ahead, as well as another murder.

I won't give the mystery away, but I will say that there's a hint in the story as to whodunit that I should have picked up on.

Anyway, check it out, it's worth it.

It's amazing the degree of professionalism Hollywood reached in those early decades. The foggy London street scenes are superb, the mansion interiors impeccable, the costumes perfect, the women hairstyles... (are there hairdressers nowadays able to duplicate those Victorian hairstyles?). And of course the acting impeccable. Peggy Cummins off camera voice at the beginning, explaining the situation reveals a child speaking, such is her Betty Boopish voice.

Eventually she appears and throughout the whole film mesmerizes us with her blond Lolita looks and startling acting ability. Precisely with all that Hollywood professionalism it's difficult to understand why, a cockney like Cummins character, that speaks like a regular Eliza Doolittle, all of a sudden loses her typical speaking mode and starts, very naturally, to speak in a normal intercontinental English.

It took Eliza many months of extremely harsh study to get rid of her cockney intonation, but this character does it in a jiffy (without the help of a professor Higgins!!), and nobody questions that miraculous change! The movie is entertaining and very predictable; the end is rushed in, ruining everything previously done, but I imagine it was part of fitting the story within a certain length of time.

I saw "Gun Crazy" before, where I "discovered" Peggy Cummins and found her (in a totally different rol) quite a trouvaille! sort of a Veronica Lake (as petite as her) and unusual, like a Gloria Graham. Lovely with her round mouth, sting lipped childish appeal (and voice!). Nice, cozy movie to watch (we are so familiar with the formula!) when it's raining and dark outside.

Gabrille Margaret Long, writing under the names of Majorie Bowen and Joseph Shearing wrote many fascinating novels based upon actual murder cases using her own interpretations as to what actually happened and who was really guilty. This novel and film "Moss Rose" is based upon an 1873 murder of a prostitute named Buswell, which was never solved. Other Shearing novels turned into films around this time are "Blanche Fury" and "Mark of Cain ("Airing in a Closed Carriage" based upon the Maybrick case).

Shearings novels are very hard to adapt and the film "Moss Rose" differs very much from the novel. So much so, that outgside of the basic idea it is almost a complete revision of the novel. Nevertheless, this film is very well produced with the sets and costumes capturing the late Victorian ambiance and a outstanding performance from England's Peggy Cummins. She captures the spunky cockney persona of "Belle Adair", while showing the vulnerability of a young woman alone in the world and making her way during an era of very closely defined social classes. Even when she is blackmailing a aristocratic family, she is still likable.

All in all, very well done and well worth watching.

... from 20th Century Fox and director Gregory Ratoff. In turn-of-the-century London, showgirl Belle (Peggy Cummins) is horrified when her best friend and roommate is found murdered. Belle forces herself inside the case, trying to track down the mystery man whom she saw her roommate with the night if her death. Belle finds the man, a wealthy Canadian named Michael (Victor Mature). Belle accompanies Michael back to his family estate in order to solve the mystery, but Michael's disapproving mother (Ethel Barrymore) resents the girl's presence.

Cummins takes some getting used to with her hyper personality and high-pitched cockney accent. Mature is a sleepy-eyed oaf, but his lack of character is necessary for the story's suspense, I suppose. I liked seeing Vincent Price as a quick-witted Scotland Yard inspector. Ethel Barrymore has the most fun, though, and the less said about her here the better. This needs to be shown on Turner Classic Movies (it apparently never has) and in a quality print.