Murder!

Early Hitchcocks are all worth seeing to observe how the Master's style evolved over the years. This story, based on a Clemence Dane book, is interesting, if only for the sub-texts flowing through it. The dialogue comes in fits and starts, which is common in the early sound films and some of the camera work is rudimentary.....but you can still spot the Hitchcock touch in the nuances of some of the scenes. Herbert Marshall is especially dashing as Sir John; he was a particularly attractive actor in his early years. Nora Baring is servicable as the accused but it is Esme Percy, as Fain, who is intriguing. As a "half-caste", originally written by Dane as gay, he is either overacting like hell or is fascinating in his interpretation....there is a fine line. Regardless, he holds your attention when he is on the screen. The film moves slowlllllllly, very slowlllllly.....but for Hitchcock and early talkie buffs, it is well worth it. Catch Una O'Conner in her younger years as the landlady. She's a treat.

From my comments you will immediately recognize I am not an expert on Alfred Hitchcook or film in general. My positive reactions to this this movie are based on the fact that I felt it held my interest and that it is technically better than most talkies made in the period of 1929 to 1931, even though I think that Herbert Marshall was hampered by a script that was fine for the level of the other actors but inferior for Marshall's talent. I feel that he was out of place in this movie because of the supporting actors. It was still a good movie and you could see hints of Hitchcock future genius in the direction of the plot. I think it took courage to include some of the longer scenes in this movie, especially for a movie made in 1930. That being said I think these longer scenes were mostly effective. I think this film is watch-worthy for any film student and anyone who is a fan of Hitchcock or early talkies. In my opinion if this film were made only 4 years later with the same cast it would have been a superior film because of the massive evolution in film making in the period between 1930 and 1934.

Two things make Murder! Interesting before one even sees it - it's early Hitchcock and the film is 87 years old!

It's not your typical Hitchcock story. A famous actor (Herbert Marshall) sits on a jury that convicts a young actress, Diana (Norah Baring) of murder, but he's haunted by the verdict.

He had an encounter with this woman some time before and suggested she gain experience by "working in the provinces." He now feels slightly responsible, as she is accused of murdering a young female costar.

Enlisting the help of a married couple in the company, he sets out to find out what really happened.

Marshall is young and attractive, and Esme Percy as Handel Fane is very memorable. A distinguished stage actor, he actually studied with Sarah Bernhardt, and roles were written for him by Bernard Shaw. His style and look are unusual.

This was filmed in a precise manner - the camera focusing on doorways, going along the floor where the murder took place and showing the bloody poker.

The climax of the film is pure Hitchcock and astounding. Well worth sitting through this early movie. Hitchcock always is.

In an early depiction of Hitchcock's fear and mistrust of the police and the legal system, we have a very legal thriller about a murder and it's subsequent trial. We are given the facts of the case, even a sort of a limited view of the murder itself taking place, followed by the prosecution and defense presenting their cases at the trial and a detailed look at the jury's discussion of the case. Sort of Hitchcock's version of 12 Angry Men.

There is a curious cast of characters involved in the film, and two of Hitch's biggest interests, the law and the arts, are on center stage. Sir John in the single character who takes the time to really look deeply into what really happened that night, even though someone's life is on the line based on the verdict that they reach, and his personal investigation is probably the best part of the film. One of the things that this movie is famous for is for being the first film where someone's thoughts are shown in a film, in the scene where he is looking at himself in the mirror, shaving. For this scene, a recording of him speaking was played off screen, since vocals could not be added to the film later.

There is a scene in the film where Mr. Marlowe goes to visit Sir John at his request, and as he approaches Sir John's desk there is a close up of his feet, which sink deeply into the rug as though it were laid over a soft mattress. This is never explained, although I am willing to accept that this is a spot of symbolism the meaning of which escaped me, since so much of the rest of the film is deeply layered, literally and figuratively, as well. There is an astonishing amount of technique and content to be seen here, impossible to catch all in one viewing, which is one sign of a great film.

Some editing and filming techniques I suspect were not as successful as they seemed in the writing stages, but the film is strong nonetheless. Consider, for example, the brave and highly successful technique of lingering on the empty jury room while the verdict is read offstage, and the shockingly effective technique of having the face of the victim hanging in the vision of the murderer. Incredibly, I think this is one of the single most haunting shots I have ever seen in a Hitchcock film. It has its slow moments and may be a bit longer than it's content can support, but this is a brilliant example of Hitch's early work.

Also keep your eye out for Hitchcock's cameo, which is a full hour into the film. This was long before he began putting all of his cameos in the beginnings of his films, knowing that the audience would be watching for him and not wanting this to distract from the stories.

Whenever I review one of Alfred Hitchcock's lesser-revered pre-1940 British efforts, I always find myself falling back upon an old cliché. Each time, in no uncertain terms, I declare that that, within this film, regardless of its cinematic merits (or lack thereof), one can detect the makings of a genius. At least in the case of 'Murder! (1930),' I can say this with complete confidence, since, though the film is rather ponderous between the interesting beginning and the thrilling ending, the director's aptitude for technical inventiveness is undeniably present. The film, one of Hitchcock's first talkies after he revolutionised British cinema with 'Blackmail (1929)' was based upon the novel "Enter Sir John," written by Clemence Dane and Helen Simpson. Unlike the "wrong man" scenario that would become Hitchcock's trademark, 'Murder!' involves the "wrong woman," as a young stage actress is condemned to die following the murder of a fellow performer.

Just like a previous film of his, the silent melodrama 'Easy Virtue (1928),' this film dedicates many of its opening minutes towards a genuinely thrilling courtroom trial. After the damning evidence has been presented to the members of the jury, all but three of the jurors vote to have the young lady, Diana Baring (Norah Baring), hanged for her crime. Hitchcock's apparent disregard for the British legal system is evident for all to see, as the three solitary "not guilty" voters are practically bullied into altering their votes. The venerable stage actor Sir John Menier (Herbert Marshall), despite his fervent belief in the girl's innocence, is likewise bullied into changing his decision, pressured by the other jurors' impatient taunts; after mentioning an irrefutable fact of the case, the group would exclaim in unison, "any answer to that, Sir John?!" Once the trial has come to an end, Sir John decides to investigate the murder for himself, employing the services of a pair of husband-and-wife actors (Edward Chapman and Phyllis Konstam) to aid him.

The novel "Enter Sir John" had previously been adapted into a play, and style of the film does exhibit these theatrical roots. Each of the actors (most playing stage performers, no less), do provide performances that are more theatrical than realistic, and Herbert Marshall, in particular, struck me as an actor somewhat akin to our contemporary Kenneth Branagh {who'd be my obvious casting choice for Sir John if a remake were ever conceived}. There is an excellent little spin to the ending, with Hitchcock almost breaking the fourth wall, but not quite. The camera zooms out from the closing shot to reveal that it is taking place on a stage before a large audience, suggesting that the director knew quite well that the style and plot of the film resembled a dramatic performance. Even more interestingly, could Hitchcock be suggesting that we have been watching a play for the past 90 minutes? Rather than watching the events unfold as they happened, could we merely be a member of the audience watching Sir John's theatrical adaptation of the story? This tantalising possibility represents a level of abstract thought that is rather unique among films of its era.