Face the Music

There is far too much music and not enough mystery.It means that the film lasts 15 minutes more then need be.Alex Nicol is yet another key lagged American who stumbled unwisely into a situation that leads to murder..He then spends the rest of the film trying to solve who is the murderer between blowing his own trumpet.It really is not particularly exciting.

Alex Nicol (Bradley) is a famous American trumpet player on tour in the UK who is exhausted and wants to go to bed. He encounters singer Ann Hanslip (Maxine) whilst on his way home and she invites him to her place for something to eat. The next morning he is a murder suspect as she has been bumped off in the night and it doesn't help that he has left his trumpet at her apartment. The film follows Nicol's efforts to get to the bottom of what has happened.

It's a mystery that leads you through many scenarios and it is quite complicated so make sure you keep up with all the characters. There are some great scenes, eg, the first meeting between Nicol and Hanslip when she is singing in a club and he gets out his trumpet and starts blowing out his tune at her. Ha ha. It is hilarious. There is some choice dialogue along the way and the film is quite funny (apart from the comedy character manager and some idiot selling trumpets) although I'm not sure it is always intentional. And God knows why Nicol solves the crime instead of the police. But so what.

This film has a great setting in the world of bedsits and nightclubs and it is interesting to see London in the 1950s. This brings me to the main reason I purchased this film. It has the street where I grew up - Elvaston Place - listed in the filming location. Sure enough, about 45 minutes into the film, Nicol exits a taxi to visit singer Eleanor Summerfield (Barbara) and there is my street. Not only that, but you can see the house I grew up in in the 1970s. That was an extra bonus. What is also funny is that the house that he visits (no. 12) had a couple of drug dealers living in the basement flat during the 1990s & 2000s. So, this scene brought back a slice of social history and many memories for me.

At one point, my wife said "Oh look, it's him from 'It Ain't Half Hot Mum'", the 1970s British sitcom set in the Burma jungle. I missed him but on checking the cast list, she was right - it's the little gay one. He plays a bellhop. Step forward Melvyn Hayes. "We're all going on a summer holiday" - "SHUUUUT UUP!" - ha ha.

My copy of the film is called "The Black Glove". Goodness knows why.

Another film found on Youtube and watched for the "House of Hammer" Podcast, "Face the Music", or "The Black Glove" if you prefer, is yet another murder mystery melodrama dressed up in the trappings of another theme, this time the London Jazz scene.

James Bradley (Alex Neil) is an American Jazz Trumpet virtuoso just starting a residency in London. After a flirty liaison at the house of singer Maxine (Ann Halbard) he heads home, accidentally leaving his trumpet behind. When Maxine is found dead the next day, the evidence points to Bradley. He begins his own investigation into the murder which leads him to a vinyl record that the studio seems to have no record of producing.

I suppose my problem with the film is that somehow the case is both over complicated, but also lacking in actual things happening. The complications aren't exactly red herrings but looking back on the film now (less then 24 hours after I watched it) I still can't quite work out how it all tied all it's pieces together. I'd have preferred the film to be a bit shorter too, than it's 84 minutes. Whilst it's not a musical in the strictest sense - there are several lengthy jazz trumpet scenes, where Neil's music is actually being played by Kenny Baker (not that one), we could have cut those scenes down to choice moments and audience reaction, to show that Bradley is good and not lost too much of the story.

My other problem is Bradley himself. I think Alex Neil crossed over from self-confidence to smugness too often and particularly in the film's conclusion, when he goes around the room like Poirot explaining everyone's part in this story.

I've written quite a bit about the film's failings here, which might suggest that I hated it, which is not quite true. Some of the dialogue is pretty snappy and for once the fight scene seems a little more rough and ready. The only problem I really struggled with was that length, it would have been a much better film at nearer to the hour mark.

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.

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.