Face the Music

Taking advantage of arrangements favoured by the UK's Eady levy (a state film subsidy established after the war) in 1950, American producer Robert Lippert formed a business alliance with Hammer studios. Under the agreement, Lippert would provide American acting talent - frequently shop-worn stars or just supporting actors who fancied a profitable trip out of the country - while Hammer would supply the rest of the cast and the production facilities. Together they would split the profits. Famous for his concern with the bottom line, Lippert produced over 140 films between 1946 and 1955, characteristically genre pieces such as I Shot Jesse James or Rocketship XM. For the British deal, most of the films were noir-ish thrillers. None were entirely of the first rank, but they remain never less than entertaining, and include THE BLACK GLOVE.

The presence of Alex Nichol and the trumpet playing of Kenny Ball somewhat compensate for weaknesses elsewhere in The Black Glove (aka: Face The Music, 1953) a thriller set in a London world of basement jazz clubs, recording studios and dingy flats. The genial Nichol, perhaps best remembered today for his role as the rancher's crazed son in The Man From Laramie (1955), plays hero James Bradley, a musician who picks up a singer after a London concert, only for her to be murdered shortly after. Following the familiar pattern, Bradley has to discover the real killer and clear himself of suspicion. Nichol gives a likable performance as the trumpet player in a film that includes an archetypal noir voice-over as well as Kenny Ball's frequently soulful contribution on brass, which both add a good deal to the atmosphere. The opening, mutual attraction between Bradley and victim Maxine, played out over music, is especially fine. The intensity between kindred spirits recalls the first meeting in Gun Crazy (1950) while their later scenes just after, expressing their growing romance in cynical rhyming couplets ("Ashes to ashes, dust to dust, show me a woman a man can trust," etc), is also memorable. Bradley's continuous, professed lack of sleep adds to the dream-like mood of the piece. Maxine's sister Barbara works in Soho's Underground Club - "the sort of place you live horizontally or not at all" and most of the clues are found in and around the music produced there. The end of the film is more disappointing, a curious throwback to traditional whodunits, with principal suspects and interested police gathered together in a single room, so that the killer can be progressively unmasked. It's a clumsy and unconvincing narrative device. Director Fisher would later be associated with many of Hammer's celebrated Gothic horror releases.

Kenny Baker's trumpet playing does most of the heavy lifting here in this otherwise rather long and daft crime drama. An enthusiastic Alex Nicol ("Bradley") is the box-office "star" brought over to augment this story of a newly-arrived, acclaimed, trumpeter who finds himself jet-lagged and embroiled in the killing of a singer. Trying to convince "Insp. MacKenzie" (Fred Johnson) of his innocence he determines to investigate the crime himself - and he quickly discovers that there is no shortage of suspects nor motives as we are exposed to some of the less savoury aspects of the music business. It's ending smacks more of "Poirot" as we end up with everyone in a room facing our sleuth who goes through them all one-by-one. If you like a good jazz trumpet soundtrack to a film, then you will certainly get more from this, otherwise it's a bit too long and it was pretty easy to guess whodunit early on.

As a deeply passionate by Noir genre I used never give under seven in any of this kind, this is widely perceived a minor movie about an American high-profile trumpet jazz player James Bradley (Alex Nicol) arrives on London to do a British tour, after the show tired he accidently meets with a blonde gorgeous singer Maxine Halbartd (Ann Hanslip) which she invites him to a dinner at her home, the chemistry is blatant perceived, lately James leaving there, although someone entered in the Maxine's apartment, in the dawn James was wake up by the police asking where he was that night, he receives the bad news about Maxine's death, then he starts his own investigation, taking him on dangerous places at London, among fights, misunderstandings he is reaching of the truth, between a live show and countless research he will slowly getting to the point, an American British co-production on Hammer's label this movie is slow paced, but intriguing and too much complex adrift quite often, Alex Nicol doesn't fits on so-called handsome star, he usually was a good supporting casting, overall the picture wasn't so bad at all, beside it is a Noir movie!!

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First watch: 2020 / How many: 1 / Source: DVD / Rating: 7

It's difficult to believe that THE Terrence Fisher directed this slog of a mystery about the folks who inhabit the world of smoky jazz clubs. A scene in which Alex Nicol starts trouble in a tough London club and is able to just stroll out without a group of guys looking like they're auditioning for Reservoir Dogs kicking his head in is ridiculous. Mostly studio bound on cheap sets, the film wastes an opportunity to shoot good location footage. The two detectives investigating the murder of the pretty jazz singer mainly sit on their lardasses for most of the running time. The big reveal is a big nothing.

Hard to believe that a movie about jazz musicians and records, from the golden era of big bands and emergent hard bop could be so spineless, spiritless, redundant and resigned.

Virtuoso horn player and murder suspect, Alex Nicol decides to blow his own trumpet and search for the killer, while senior police officers potter about aimlessly asking a string of barbed questions in a brusque manner, when not intently preoccupied by more essential pen pushing activities, leaving Nicol to engage in a couple of clumsy fights and form a friendship with the dead girl's sister (Eleanor Summerfield).

It all revolves...as far as I can tell, around the contents of a mystery disc, which nobody is able to shed any light upon, until late in the day, when lab coated technician Jeremy Hawk provides some intuition. A slew of substandard acting and uninspired dialogue, finally leads to one of those ensemble pieces where all those under suspicion are put through the mill, until someone is ultimately called out. A bit like the boardroom sequence from 'The Apprentice'.

If you really wanna listen to a Mystery Disc, then check out Frank Zappa's platter of the same name, which offers a fascinating insight into the early recordings by The Mothers of Invention.