The Canary Murder Case

When Paramount decided to re-make their unreleased silent, "The Canary Murder Case" as a talkie, they faced two problems. The first was that the title star, Louise Brooks, had accepted an offer to work in Germany and refused to return. The second was that director Mal St Clair had no knowledge of sound technique. And perhaps it's true too that he supported Miss Brooks' stand. She and Paramount had parted on bad terms because the studio refused to honor her contract. In any event, Frank Tuttle was engaged to direct the talkie.

In order to get around the Brooks problem, the studio wheeled in a double, Margaret Livingston. Not only did Miss Livingston dub the Canary's voice (in an atrocious Brooklyn accent yet!) but also substituted visually in back-to-the-camera long shots.

So what we have is a movie in which all the Brooks close-ups (in fact all the shots which show her face), plus at least one short clip in a hotel corridor and maybe the long shot of the dancing chorus in the theater (and perhaps the location snip of the speeding car), were directed by Mal St Clair, whereas the rest of the action was directed by Frank Tuttle. A major headache for the editor indeed, and he is to be commended for a sterling job of work under extremely difficult circumstances. The pace is odd, the cutting unrhythmical and even jarringly abrupt at times, but at least the narrative still makes sense.

Aside from Miss Livingston, the players do wonders with the not very convincing dialogue supplied by novelist S.S. Van Dine himself. Oddly, Eugene Palette copes best, giving a typically hearty impersonation of Sergeant Heath. On the other hand, Powell seems a little unsure of his character at this stage and is often content merely to rattle off his lines. The rest of the players are competent enough, if a little too theatrical at times, though comedian Ned Sparks seems miscast as a ruthless thug and Jean Arthur's fans are in for a considerable shock not only by the paucity of her part but by the most unattractive way she is presented and photographed.

All the same, the film comes across as more than a mere curiosity. It not only bolsters the Brooks legend, but, if nothing else, it also presents a murder mystery that is not only reasonably intriguing but ingeniously solved.

P.S. The actor who plays Sergeant Heath spells his name "Pallette", but IMDb's automatic spelling correcter refuses to acknowledge this.

One of the earliest private-eye talkies was "The Canary Murder Case," featuring William Powell as an American detective called Philo Vance ... later described by Raymond Chandler as "probably the most asinine character in detective fiction."

This type of "classic" murder mystery, transposed to an American location, must have seemed a natural for early talkie producers: few sets, all interiors, a lot of talk and little of that difficult action stuff which meant the camera might have to move around… Like filming a stage play, in fact. Here was an opportunity to set up the static camera in its enclosed booth and let the actors get on with the job…

Most of these films turned out to be the dullest ever made… It wasn't the fault of William Powell, who played Philo Vance with wit and elegance… It was the fault of a basic misconception in making private-detective movies…

Powell played Vance four times... Others who, followed him were: Paul Lukas, Edmund Lowe, Warren Williams, Grant Richards, James Stephenson and Alan Curtis

A famous "transition" film. One shot as a silent and partly re-shot for talkies. William Powell stars as Philo Vance. Jean Arthur plays a show girl. Louise Brooks is the "Canary." Of course this film is famous because Brooks refused to return from Europe to re-shoot scenes as a talkie. The studio then released news her voice would not record well. To get even more even they hired Margaret Livingston to dub Brooks' voice in a high nasal New York accent. Livingston also appears in a few long shots in a Louise Brooks hair cut.

Slow but OK murder mystery. Brooks disappears after about 15 minutes; Arthur has no real part. That leaves us with James Hall as the dupe, Eugene Palette the dumb sergeant, Charles Lane the father, Oscar Smith the desk attendant, etc. Lots of talk.

Brooks is gorgeous and in the credits you note she gets downplayed from 2nd to 4th billing. Another Paramount jab. Brooks indeed had a fine voice even though I've only seen a couple of lousy westerns she made. She was a beauty and had a good voice. But she sure was difficult. And her "Lulu in Hollywood" memoir doesn't change my mind about her. By the way: I loved her in Beggars of Life as well as Pandora's Box and Diary of a Lost Girl.

In what turns out to be his second talking picture William Powell introduces to the screen the character of debonair detective Philo Vance. Like his later Nick Charles, Powell as Vance likes to live the high life though he's not as big a drinker.

He gets called in by an old friend Charles Lane (not the acerbic character actor we all know from TV and films) but an older gentlemen who is concerned about the continuing involvement of his son James Hall with nightclub singer Louise Brooks known only as The Canary. This girl is a much cruder version of Lorelei Lee who is determined to marry wealthy and insure a steady income for her pleasures. Hall is engaged to good girl Jean Arthur, but can't keep away from Brooks.

She's got a whole gang of other men on the string as well and she also has an ex-husband so when Brooks turns up dead there are no lack of suspects for Powell to work through. The police however with dumb as a brick Eugene Palette as Sergeant Heath seem to zero in on Hall.

For those who like the vivacious Jean Arthur in the classic films she was yet to do you won't find her here. She's pretty wasted as a typical good girl part. One player who will be a revelation is Ned Sparks as Brooks's ex-husband who claims he's not an ex. He's not the lovable sourpuss we later saw in many films, but a rather vicious animal. Totally a surprise.

William Powell's perfect diction and stage training make The Canary Murder Case hold up well even today. Unlike so many of his contemporaries at this time, Powell seem to know instinctively how to play for the new talking picture camera. Sound made his career.

For those who enjoy nice detective stories with a closed ring of suspects, you can't go wrong with The Canary Murder Case.

The Canary Murder Case" was not William Powell's first talking film. That was "Interference", also by Paramount. Also, even though Louise Brooks was prominently advertised as "The Canary", a showgirl determined to marry a rich young man just for the fun of ruining him, she doesn't get much screen time. That is because The Canary Murder Case was originally shot as a silent film, but then it was decided to make it into a talking picture. Louise Brooks detested talking pictures and refused to stay and reshoot her part. This pretty much finished her in film in the U.S., although she went to Germany and did some of her finest work. Unfortunately, that fact was not discovered in this country for another thirty years. Instead of starting over with another actress, it was decided to have someone dub Louise' voice, and as a result her lip movement is noticeably out of synchronization with her "voice". Much of The Canary's speaking is done with her back to the camera, minimizing the problem.

William Powell, who was quite wooden in his first talking performance in "Interference", does much better here. You see him moving toward the characterization of the dapper P.I. that he played through the Thin Man series of films beginning in 1934. Powell had a pretty good silent career after a long period of poverty doing stage work prior to 1920, and he was one of the few silent stars to successfully make the transition to talking films.