Seven Keys to Baldpate

If you enjoy creepy old house movies, you'll like this one.

You wouldn't be seeing this film at any other time other than the midnight to dawn schedule. A relatively effective start leads to a runaround that could very nearly have been farce. Its length denotes its depth: fairly clichéd characters stuck together in a remote country hotel, dying one by one in ways that surely must have been groansome even in 1947.... But at the time of the day I was watching it, my brain wasn't exactly working on all cylinders, so it amused me.

Of particular note is Phillip Terry, whose acting is nothing short of woeful: he is clearly not suited to the type of character he is playing here. The fact that he is playing the main character makes it stand out terribly, and it isn't improved when the tone of the film (and the role) changes as the film goes on.

The seventh lensed version of the Earl Derr Biggers/George M. Cohan comedy-scarer is a very pleasant affair under the direction of Lew Landers. We're alerted to its comedy as soon as lead Phillip Terry shows up in glasses and wearing a bow tie, and the fine cast of supporting actors lets us know we're in for a good time.

Terry is a writer who has bet Jason Robards Sr. That he can write a novel in 24 hours at a closed hotel. Robards send his secretary, Jacqueline White, to gum up the works, but she and Terry are distracted by the assortment of thieves and madmen who come wandering through the doors.

The handling of the subject runs more clearly towards laughs than earlier versions, and it looks to me like the pacing and camera work by Jack MacKenzie was influenced by Frank Capra's version of ARSENIC AND OLD LACE. If you get a chance to see the beautiful copy that Turner Classic Movies ran this morning, take it.

If you like stereotypical mystery films that are amusing at various levels, than this B movie is for you. Philip Terry, a lifelong B actor stars in the film as a mystery writer. He does a decent job in the role. Various other B actors flesh out the roles as red herrings, villains, and heroes.

Although the film is pretty much predictable, it is highly atmospheric, and captures the film noir aura of the late 1940s. It is a harmless way to pass an evening of ordering out pizza and watching a film that does not require a great deal of our attention. The plot is a bit convoluted and hard to swallow, and would not be possible to be sold today in the modern mystery market.

Another perennial "classic" of crime from the brain of Earl Derr Biggers, who gave birth to the aphoristic sleuth Charlie Chan, Seven Keys to Baldpate endures in multiple screen versions. The 1947 model was an odd programmer to come out of RKO at a time when it was busy churning out film noir, because Seven Keys to Baldpate harks back to an older style, a cozy, old-fashioned Mystery of no great originality or complexity.

One dark and stormy night mystery writer Phillip Terry arrives at a supposedly deserted-for-the-season lodge called Baldpate somewhere in the Catskills or Adirondacks. He's there to win a big bet that he can complete a story within 24 hours only to find that he's not, as expected, alone since he was assured he possesses the only key. There's a creepy `caretaker' (Eduardo Ciannelli) installed, and as the night passes a succession of other suspicious key-holders gain access to the lodge: Jacqueline White, Jason Robards Sr., Margaret Lindsay et al. Seems there's nasty business afoot concerning a jewel theft, a payoff, and Heaven knows what else.

Despite a promisingly spooky start (sliding panels to secret passages, a black cat, a howling storm), the movie can't sustain its thread of suspense and opts for an `antic' mood, always the Kiss of Death. Unfortunately Terry, barely acceptable playing it straight, fails abominably at the light comedy required of him. And so the strong beginning degenerates into the mechanical fire-drill typical of the Charlie Chan vehicles – lights go out, shots ring out, a body hits the floor. Not having been privy to any of the earlier incarnations of this story (the first appeared in 1917), I can't account for its longevity. But if its last half lived up to its first, it wouldn't be a bad little movie.