Green Eyes

Charles Starrett is a writer of murder mysteries who gets involved in—yes, a murder mystery. Nothing too original in Green Eyes, but a fair assortment of suspects and intriguing clues help maintain interest. Once again, it's a murder in a big old house in which nearly all of the film's action occurs. The event which sets the story in motion is the murder of the house's owner, one Steven Kester, during a costume party, and it's quickly established that his guests, his employees and even his granddaughter are not particularly sad to see him go. Even his butler can't find anything nice to say about him:

Inspector Crofton: "What kind of a man was Mr. Kester to work for?" Lenox the butler: "He was a Simon Legree, sir. It's been most difficult to put up with him these past 20 years."

For the first half of the film, John Wray as the inspector barks out a good half of all the dialog spoken as he rounds up clues and lays out the facts and motives. In the second half, we see more of Starrett as he quietly investigates while more noisily presenting a rather foppish front to most of the group.

Shirley Grey and Dorothy Revier, as the two women involved in the case, are given just enough screen time to hint that their characters could contain some interesting depths; but alas, a 70-minute movie holds limited space for developing character studies.

Nice touches: the goofy getups sported by the guests in the opening costume party and ensuing interrogation; the "green eyes" of the title; and a clever closing bit with Starrett at his typewriter.

When a wealthy man is murdered at a costume party, each of the guests are considered a suspect. Naturally, one of the guests is a mystery writer (Charles Starrett), who helps the detective (John Wray) who doesn't want his help -all of the other guests have a motive, especially the dead man's granddaughter whose funds were held back by her dead grandfather ...

Nice to see Charles Starrett in something other than the Durango Kid and he's quite energetic, adding some breeziness into rather routine murder mystery which can be a bit talky and a little tedious towards the end - however, it passes the time adequately.

I'm not that familiar with the mystery genre or era (1930s) at all, but I quite liked this murder mystery. Some old guy gets bumped off during a fancy dress party and stuffed in a cupboard, and it's up to the police and a smug murder mystery writer to figure out who the culprit was. Was it the spoiled granddaughter and her boyfriend? Or the secretary and his wife? Or the housekeeper? Or the old business partner? The police try and find out the only way they know – by cornering people in the house and barking rapid fire questions at them for the entire first half of the film. This sounds boring but it kind of got me all fired up too, so much so that I started firing rapid questions at my wife. Where's my dinner? Why don't you shut those kids up? Why are coming towards me with that knife?

It's all pretty brisk stuff as the writer guy snoops around and generally acts like a total pain as he tries to rumble the perp. As this film was made in the 1800s it's not full of blood and gore and sex as we've all come to expect, what with being brought up on Fulci films, but for a glimpse into a by-gone age (30BC) I thought Green Eyes was charming and I'll tip my hat to it.

Are there stand out films of this type? I'd like to know. The Pre-Cambrian explosion mystery film intrigues me.

This is a well made mystery film from 1934 with a conclusion that makes sense. It would be difficult to ascertain that from most of the reviews on this database that discuss this film, however. I am not sure why they even bother to watch it in the first place, since they seem to dislike it so much. The police are portrayed as "morons" says one review, but I didn't see them like that. The cast consists of "unknowns" says another. Charles Starrett who received second billing may have not been a big star in 1934, but beginning in 1935 he signed a contract with Columbia Pictures and had his own series of Westerns until 1952. He was able to quit the series and retire at 48, a wealthy man.

This somewhat less than rewarding production is based closely upon a novel by Harriette Ashbrook: "The Murder Of Steven Kester", to a point of its inclusion of substantial swatches of Ashbrook's stilted dialogue, but since the original book remains safely confined within a rather narrow spectrum of sleuthing utilized by the English writer, it can be no surprise that the film is also dull and generally predictable. Action opens briskly with assistant director Melville Shyer, who also contributes the script, effectively leading a congregation of extras during a lively costume party sequence, this festivity organized at the home of wealthy Steven Kester by his granddaughter Jean (Shirley Grey) as a diversion to facilitate her unobstructed elopement with beau Cliff Miller (William Bakewell). Here the pace of the film begins to flag as journeyman director Richard Thorpe mishandles the tempo following discovery of Steven Kester's corpse, decorated with stab wounds, and a homicide investigation then begins under the supervision of Captain (or Chief, at times Inspector) Crofton (John Wray) who fails to acknowledge any recognizable form of correct investigative police procedures as he browbeats a large contingent of available suspects. Needless to report, many of these latter have apparent motives to have committed the slaying, and if Crofton neglects one of them, a meddlesome crime novelist, Michael Tracy (Charles Starrett), a recurring lead character as "Spike Tracy" in the publications of Ashbrook, is on hand to abet the detective. Viewers, however, will not require similar assistance, due to the story hardly being abstruse enough to challenge most armchair detectives. Production values for this low tier Chesterfield Pictures item are expectedly paltry, but some performances from players are to be valued, in particular a brief turn by Lloyd Whitlock, and neatly developed characterizations from Grey and Dorothy Revier as female suspects. Director Thorpe, ever respectful of his cast members, and especially of those whom are stage trained, leads with a loose rein.