The Circus Queen Murder

Circus Queen Murder, The (1933)

** 1/2 (out of 4)

Rare Columbia mystery was the second film in a two-film series. Police Chief Thatcher Colt (Adolphe Menjou) gets tired of the gangster in NYC so he takes a vacation with his secretary (Ruthelma Stevens) on a vacation. He runs across a friend who owns a circus and decides to stick around when an abusive husband (Dwight Frye) turns up dead. The suspects could be his wife, her lover or perhaps African cannibals. This is a fairly entertaining mystery that works best with its pre-code nature, which at times is fairly ghoulish considering the era that this was made. There's talk of bodies being cut up and fed to lions and there's even a theory that the African cannibals have eaten a victim. Some might be offended by the black folks being called cannibals with their voodoo dolls and skull lying around so be warned there. Menjou and Nissen work well together but it's Frye and Greta Nissen that really steal the show. Donald Cook, best known for his role in The Public Enemy is also good in his supporting role. The actual mystery isn't too hard to solve, which is the film's biggest problem but the 63-minute running time goes by fast. This isn't one of the best of the genre but it's a good time killer.

Police commissioner Thatcher Colt (Adolphe Menjou) has had it up to here with New York crime. Wanting to get away and recharge the batteries, he sets off with his secretary for a vacation in the middle-of-nowhere upstate New York. There, Colt runs into a traveling circus and murder. Not much of a vacation.

It's unfortunate that The Circus Queen Murder suffers from such a poor storyline, becuase there's a lot here to like. The film looks absolutely fantastic and the acting is as strong as you'll find in a "B" from this era, but there's not much to work with when it comes to the story. First, the film's title gives away far too much, destroying any hope of suspense. Second, the killer's identity is a given throughout the film, destroying any hope of mystery. Third, the film's pacing is a mess. I'm convinced that director Roy William Neill did the best he could, but without much to work with, the film tends to bog down from time-to-time (who am I kidding - parts of the film are downright boring). Fourth, our hero, Thatcher Colt, doesn't really do much. He knows who the killer is and he knows who the intended victim is, but does nothing about it. He pretty much sits back and lets the murder happen. Which leads to - fifth, the ending is complete bananas.

In the end, the best I can rate The Circus Queen Murder is a very average (and maybe even generous) 5/10.

Finally, I'm not an expert on pre-code films, but I generally get a kick out of them. It's amazing to me what filmmakers could do and get away with in 1933 that they couldn't just a couple years later. Marital infidelity, blood, risque wardrobes, and even something as innocent as Colt and his secretary traveling together would have most likely been axed by the Code. Interesting stuff.

5/10

1933's "The Circus Queen Murder" was Columbia's second adaptation of an Anthony Abbot Thatcher Colt novel, in this case 1932's "About the Murder of the Circus Queen," a followup to the previous year's "The Night Club Lady." Back as the lip reading Colt is Adolphe Menjou, happily teamed again with gorgeous Ruthelma Stevens as faithful secretary Miss Kelly, as savvy and sassy as ever. This time around, there's precious little mystery, with Colt taken out of his native New York City milieu, watching over suspicious activities in a traveling circus far from home. It does evoke Tod Browning's "Freaks," with such pre-code details as cannibalism adding to the doom laden atmosphere, not really a mystery as defined in the title, the circus queen only meeting her fate in the final reel. Fortunately, we have Dwight Frye's Flandrin commanding attention, and in a larger role than usual he's definitely in rare form, better in dangerous mode than his bland hero from 1935's "The Crime of Doctor Crespi." Both Thatcher Colt features have remained stubbornly elusive over the years, while one of Columbia's four picture Steve Trent series has suffered the indignity of actually disappearing without any trace. There would be one revival for Colt, in 1942's "The Panther's Claw," casting dependable Sidney Blackmer as Colt, his fate on screen ending just like his inspiration Philo Vance, at Poverty Row's PRC.

This is a highly entertaining B mystery movie. While a ton of these type of movies were made in the 1930s and 40s, this one is a bit different. First, Adolph Menjou who plays the lead is nothing like the typical leading man in such films. Like he usually was, he's debonair and exudes class--and is so different from folks like Charlie Chan and Sherlock Holmes and the Falcon. And, he also happens to be a cop on vacation who walks into the middle of crimes--not the typical "dopey cop" you'd find in many Bs (especially the Boston Blackie films). Watching Menjou was always a pleasure and this film is no exception. An additional factor that made the film more entertaining was its begin set at a circus. There's a part of most viewers that is excited in seeing high wire acts, clowns and the like. And finally, it's interesting because the killer is just plain bonkers--and quite entertaining.

Well written and acted, this film is well worth seeing if, like me, you love B-movies. While not a great film, it is among the better examples of the genre.

New York City District Attorney Adolphe Menjou needs a vacation. So he heads upstate to the little town of Gilead, with secretary Ruthelma Stevens. There is, alas, no balm in Gilead. There's a circus in town, and its publicity man, Harry Holman recognizes Menjou. He asks for help. There are threats being made to kill members of the troupe, and tomorrow's Friday the 13th.

The under-rated Roy William Neill directs this efforts, and it soon turns into a howcatchem with a lot of shots of a circus in operation. Menjou saunters through the picture, almost always a step behind as he learns of issues like aerialist Greta Nissen betraying her husband, and a dead dog. Dwight Frye, as usual, makes the most of a small but key role.

A performer of many talents, Frye entered show business playing the piano. He switched to acting and in the 1920s played comedies on the stage. When talkies came in, he soon established himself as a neurotic villain, in roles like Wilmer in the first screen version of THE MALTESE FALCON and most famously as Renfield in DRACULA. He died in 1943 at the age of 44.