The Case of the Frightened Lady

Another lively potboiler from George King, in which the absence of Tod Slaughter is compensated by some ripe ham from a young and dashing Marius Goring instead.

The picture it paints of a decadent aristocracy on the brink of the cataclysm of a second world war is not a pretty one, with the men neutered by in-breeding (replenished only by strong women marrying into the House of Lebanon) while surrounded by muttering, disrespectful servants.

Intriguing romanticism in an old noble castle with an ancient history and a brilliant pianist and composer as the last baronet in the line of a dying family, whom his mother (Helen Haye) keeps insisting on getting married to keep the family going, which doesn't quite turn out as she had wished. Some weird butlers with too much knowledge of what is going on and an old doctor (Felix Aylmer) with a doubtful past as a practitioner in India plus a few murders makes up a dire soup of great thriller suspense. The young baronet is Marius Goring, who must have loved playing this debatable genius, while Penelope Dudley-Ward provides the necessary beauty as the frightened lady who has reason to be frightened indeed. It's a brilliant thriller by Edgar Wallace, and if you like beautiful music, romantic settings, exotic intrigue and horrific murders, you should not miss this film.

This film, based on a stage play by Edgar Wallace, is one of those traditional British murder mysteries set in an enormous aristocratic mansion with all kinds of supercilious people, suspicious servants, stupid detectives, and maidens in distress. But it is by no means as corny as it sounds. The film is dominated by the powerful presence of Helen Haye, an actress with the cutting edge of a diamond blade, who lashes everyone in sight with her reproving tongue. She is Lady Lebanon, the matriarch of the establishment, and don't you forget it! Her friend is Dr. Amersham, played by Felix Aylmer, and he even outdoes her in supercilious arrogance. What a pair! Between them, they so dominate the screen that there is barely space for the other players to make their presences known much of the time. The maiden in distress (the one who is 'frightened') is played by Penelope Dudley-Ward (1914-1982, sometimes credited only as Penelope Ward), who only appeared in 12 films between 1935 and 1944, retiring after that. From 1948 to 1976, she was married to Sir Carol Reed, and during the time that I knew him towards the end of his life, I met her, though I only ever exchanged a few polite words with her, as she never joined me and Carol for our chats over gin and tonic in their vast living room with the enormously high ceiling in their splendid house in Kings Road. (They had removed the floor above that room so that the room was two storeys high rather than one.) Alas, I retain little impression of her, so must make do with what I see in these old movies instead. Now they are all gone, even Tracy Reed, Lady Reed's daughter, who died in 2012. Sic transit gloria mundi, I suppose. Helen Haye is so outstanding in this film that it is worth recalling some of her other notable film performances, of which there were 60 altogether. One particularly remembers Hitchcock's THE 39 STEPS (1935), THE SPY IN BLACK (1939), THE REMARKABLE MR. KIPPS (1941), THE MAN IN GREY (1943), ANNA KARENINA (1948), and HOBSON'S CHOICE (1954). What a career! However, the truly inspired performance in this film is by Marius Goring as the young Lord Lebanon, Helen Haye's son. He really outdoes himself in this one. (He had already appeared with Helen Haye the year before this in THE SPY IN BLACK (1939, see my review).) The reasons why the Lebanon family are called Lebanon in this story is that they 'go back a thousand years' and were active in the Middle East at that time as crusaders. Helen Haye is determined to 'continue the line' and keeps urging her bachelor son, who is obsessed with composing music, to marry Penelope Dudley-Ward, which he, unlike Carol Reed in real life, is strangely loathe to do. George King does an excellent job of directing this tale, which could easily have been creaky, but does not creak. King never rose to be one of the famous British directors, despite directing 54 titles, retiring in 1949. Many or most of his films are unavailable and no one alive has seen them, which makes it rather difficult to evaluate his contribution to the cinema. Certainly this film has countless twists and turns and surprises and never drags. Considering that it started out framed by a proscenium (as a stage play), King got it moving and avoided the claustrophobic feeling we often get from stage plays adapted for the screen. When watching this, be careful not to become 'a frightened lady'!

Originally filmed in 1932 with Emlyn Williams (making his movie debut) and Gordon Harker (as Sergeant Totty), the movie was such a success that Wallace—reversing the usual procedure—turned his script into a stage play in which Williams (as Lord Lebanon) and Harker repeated their screen roles. Also in the 1932 movie, titled The Frightened Lady, were Cathleen Nesbitt as Lady Lebanon, while the lovely Belle Chrystall was Miss Crane, and Norman McKinnel, Inspector Tanner.

A Gothic thriller of the old school, The Case of the Frightened Lady spins an intriguing web of mystery and horror almost from the very first. I must admit I was not impressed by its trick opening which was obviously designed to fool not only the audience but the critics as well. At the conclusion of the under-the-credits sequence, director George King commences the movie proper with an odd scene in which Helen Haye faces the camera, while she and Marius Goring declaim their lines in full-blown theatrical style, their voices raised to reach the back of the gallery. At any second we expect the camera to pull back to reveal that Hayes and Goring are standing on an actual theatre set, as was done, for example, in The Hollywood Stadium Mystery (1938). But no! Before the scene has even concluded, both Haye and Goring suddenly abandon their grease-paint posturing and revert to more natural acting. So this was an expected "surprise" that happily didn't eventuate.

Another critical surprise lies in the writing and acting of Ronald Shiner's part. Although the sergeant is designed as comic relief, Shiner, for once, doesn't over-do the mugging and even plays the role with a degree of intelligence. Needless to say, we expect gifted performances from Haye, Ward and Goring, but at times Shiner even manages to hold his own in this company. However, an even bigger revelation in the acting department lies in the excellent portrayal by minor character actor George Merritt who plays a major role here and even manages to steal scenes from the principals.

King has handled his generous budget in fine style, making splendid use of his sets which, aided by Hone Glendinning's noirish lighting, provide plenty of spooky atmosphere. This brooding, riveting invocation of suspense, allied with rapid pacing and charismatic acting (even from minor players like Warwick, Thatcher and Scott), inexorably plunges us so inescapably into the maelstrom that we don't notice obvious contrivances in the plot and details that simply don't stand up to scrutiny. The script's faults, in fact, are inconsequential. While actually watching the story unfold, it remains a terrifyingly suspenseful movie experience.

In the title role, the charmingly aristocratic yet disarmingly sensitive Penelope Dudley Ward exhibits just the right note of fragile beauty as the imperiled heroine.

Penelope Dudley-Ward (Isla) is the frightened lady of the title. From the first shots of the film when she screams at the shadows that are following her in the house, you can't help but laugh and fear for your oncoming experience. It doesn't say much when the comedy detectives are the best thing about the film. It is woefully acted by all the main players who deliver their lines in that clipped English which is just plain fake – the word "exactly" becomes "exectly" – it's just nonsense. The film does keep you watching to see how things pan out but it ends just as badly as it started with some laughably crass dialogue being spouted by the appalling Helen Haye (Lady Lebanon) accompanied by a hysterical closing head shot of her. It's not meant to be funny, though. A nice, spooky venue is wasted in this badly acted effort.