Death on the Diamond

As a mystery, Death on the Diamond contains all of the genre trappings to keep you guessing until the end. Nearly half of the cast is set up as "red herrings" and if the unmasking of the real killer is something of a disappointment, it really doesn't matter. The real reason to watch this curio is its cast. Robert Young, one of Hollywood's most underrated leading men, is fine as the cocky star pitcher; his opening scene with Madge Bellamy, who is equally good, crackles with snappy dialogue. Nat Pendleton, as a beefy slugger, and Ted Healy, as a touchy umpire, make a fine comic duo. [Healy's reaction to his pal's untimely demise is surprisingly touching.] And look fast for Walter Brennan as a hot dog vendor and Ward Bond as a cop. The film is rife with an atmosphere of golden age baseball, which helps elevate an average mystery into something imminently watchable.

Death on the Diamond (1934)

The title and plot sound serious but this is a corny, lighthearted spin on murder and racketeering in America's pastime. And leading man Robert Young plays it so breezy you can't quite take his pitching, or his romancing, seriously.

Which is all intentional, no doubt. This is purely entertainment, and in the style of a B-movie at the time, along the lines of many of the murder mystery series that were so popular. The acting and the plots are functional, and fun enough to work, and there is one main hook to keep you interested. Or at least me interested in this one. I knew after ten minutes the movie had no real merit, but I watched it anyway, just to see how they handled the idea.

The idea is sensational: a famously bad baseball team (the St. Louis Cardinals) is surprisingly good thanks to their new sensational pitcher. So a notorious gambler is going to lose big money, and an aggressive businessman is going to fail to buy the team at the end of the season. But only if, in fact, the Cardinals continue to win. So key players start to die. Yes, they are murdered in all kinds of ways. It's a terrifying idea, and I suppose feasible even if preposterous, and you do wonder what the league, and the players, and the fans, and the cops would do.

Well, it is all handled rather lightly. The show must go on, and baseball must be played. Even as bodies are found in the middle of a game, there is no sense that murder trumps nine innings of play, and you really do have to roll your eyes. And then the characters go along with it, too, showing no real fear that they might be next. The actual killers are never really seen—just a shadow, or the barrel of a gun—and so the suspense is deliberately kept low key.

Baseball fans, and baseball movie fans, will no doubt find something to like here. There is a bit of actual footage at the St. Louis baseball stadium, and quite a few actual ballplayers are used in background roles. Young isn't a completely awful pitcher, but you can see when he's pitching in front of a projected backdrop at the studio. There is one little baseball gaffe, it seems—in the bottom of the 9th, St. Louis needs one run to win, but they post two runs, allowing an extra baserunner to score (it wasn't a home run), which isn't how the rules work today, at least.

See this? Not unless you really love baseball.

David Landau is the owner-manager of the St. Louis Cardinals -- for the moment. The franchise's finances have been underwater for a while. Everything he has is mortgaged, and he's spent his last moment buying pitcher Robert Young. If the team can't take the World Series this year, he's finished. But the team performs and it looks like they may go to the World Series, until key players are murdered.

It's a pretty good effort from MGM, with Madge Evans as Landau's daughter and Young's love interest, Nat Pendleton, Ted Healy, Henry Gordon, and the usual assortment of MGM players to add gloss. The mystery is ok, although Young does not do the real investigating. That's up to Paul Kelly. It's the sort of enjoyable programmer that MGM could turn out when they weren't trying for greatness.

There's an inherent danger in any movie director taking on a sports movie, and it's this: Very few directors know anything at all about the sport they're depicting, while the viewers they're courting know EVERYTHING about it.

That being a given, I am very impressed that this movie --- remember, it was made only a few years after talkies appeared --- has actual locations shots at L. A.'s Wrigley Field, Cincinnati's Crosley Field, and many actual MLB scenes at St. Louis's Sportsmans Park (Busch Stadium #1). That baseball shrine in north St. Louis was my Holy Grail as a boy.

Like a cop watching a crime movie and slapping his forehead going "That would never happen in real life", any true baseball fan will have his face-plant moments watching this --- like very early on when the put-upon umpire keeps pronouncing his title as "empire" --- but give it a chance. It's surprisingly authentic, and topical, with today's sports gambling clearly out of control, and MLB hanging its integrity from a Sword of Damocles human hair, making this 1934 movie a prescient parable of where pro sports' Faustian deal with gambling is certain to lead.

There's one gaffe so huge you could steer Elon Musk's ego through it: What should be the movie's most suspenseful scene, the denouement, instead is laugh-out-loud funny, in part due to a very poor choice of sound effect.

It was made not to be an Oscar nominee or Ebert's Great Movies entry, but just to be the final in a triplex at the corner movie theater, keeping summertime moviegoers buying popcorn and soda back when baseball was the national sport.

Set your expectations accordingly and you might enjoy it, especially when a baserunner is gunned down trying to score.

A very youthful looking ROBERT YOUNG plays a star pitcher hired to help the St. Louis Cardinals win the '34 pennant race. He falls in love with the manager's daughter, pretty MADGE EVANS.

The team is soon involved in a series of murders that take place on the baseball field or in the locker room. Since most of the action takes place in broad daylight, there's no chance to build up the suspense to turn this into a crime melodrama. Instead, the heavier touch is on comedy, supplied by NAT PENDLETON and TED HEALEY. Unfortunately, their humorous material is a bit strained for laughs.

Real footage of the Cardinals is integrated with the studio footage shot at Wrigley Field, with mixed results that are more distracting than anything else. Revelation of the murderer comes in the last reel and is far from satisfying, leading to a scene of ham acting at its worst.

Nothing special about this one, even with a cast that includes PAUL KELLY, WILLARD ROBERTSON and pint-sized MICKEY ROONEY in supporting roles.

Some uncredited bits by GARY OWEN, WARD BOND and DENNIS O'KEEFE for those who stay awake during the proceedings.