The Firebird

I had never heard of this movie, and had never seen Verree Teasdale given top billing in a film, so I tuned in for the novelty value.

It turned out to be a very pleasant surprise -- a fast-paced story, imaginatively presented.

The cast is full of faces familiar to any '30s movie fan -- C. Aubrey Smith, Ricardo Cortez (he of the dazzling smile), Anita Louise.

There's even a wire-haired terrier that looks like the dog who played Asta (I don't know the canine actor's name!)

So I recommend this as a little-known but certainly worth-seeing gem, and a great reason for keeping your TCM subscription up to date.

This movie's title is almost entirely irrelevant. Ricardo Cortez portrays a suave musician in Vienna (memo to a previous IMDb reviewer: Vienna is not in Germany), who lures young maidens to his bachelor flat by offering to play Stravinsky's 'Firebird'. Of course, he's a cad with dozens of notches on his bedpost. Sooner or later, somebody is going to kill this guy. Sure enough, somebody does.

This is one of those murder mysteries that features a subjective camera shot from the viewpoint of the murderer, so that the victim looks the murderer right in the eyes but we don't know the murderer's identity. We see Cortez welcoming someone into his digs, and a woman's arm enters the frame ... so we know the killer is a woman. And she's white, too. Other than that, her identity is a mystery.

C. Aubrey Smith, more phlegmatic than usual, is the world-weary police inspector who's got to wade through the suspects. The prime suspect is Cortez's neighbour abovestairs, Verree Teasdale, whose lovely young daughter Anita Louise may have been ruined by Cortez. In this movie, Teasdale is married to Lionell Atwill, so she's got enough problems.

I'll give this movie some credit. The solution to whodunnit was a genuine surprise to me. Likewise, her motive (yes, the killer IS a woman) was something I didn't expect. Unfortunately, her motive isn't very plausible either. Also, this movie starts out as a whodunnit, but C. Aubrey Smith's sleuth spends much less time trying to solve the murder than he spends pontificating on the morals of the younger generation and such. This movie is based on a play, and it shows: there's lots of talk and very little action.

This movie was directed by William Dieterle, a brilliant craftsman who believed in astrology and numerology, and whose artistic decisions were often dictated by the horoscopes cast for him by his wife. She must have put her azimuth in the wrong house this time, because Dieterle's talents -- so amply demonstrated in many other films -- aren't much in evidence here. Several good actors try hard with weak material. I'll rate this movie just 4 out of 10.

In Vienna, arrogant famous musician Herman Brandt (Ricardo Cortez) moves into a high-end apartment. John (Lionel Atwill) and Carola Pointer (Verree Teasdale) with their daughter Mariette (Anita Louise) live in that building. Herman makes a pass at Carola and she is not amused. She complains but he refuses to leave. He gets murdered and the Pointers are the obvious suspects.

I like the setup. It seems ready for a good murder mystery. Once the investigation starts, the story gets bogged down. The intensity slowly leaks out of the balloon. It could have gone a lot better. This is based on a play. I don't how close is the adaptation. It does need to energize the screen much more. I started really invested in the characters. By the end, I don't really care as much.

It was not only in more recent times that parents asked themselves what was going on with the younger generation. In pre-War Vienna too -- parents forbade their children from listening to Stravinsky's "Firebird Suite." Anita Louise is the daughter to Verree Teasdale and Lionel Atwill. The story concerns who has been tempted by Ricardo Cortez, the actor living in the apartment below? Someone silences him forever -- they might have done so earlier and spiced up a very slow start. Some twists and turns towards the end can't save this otherwise forgettable social commentary masquerading as a mystery.

Womanizing matinee idol Ricardo Cortez is murdered in his apartment. Homicide detective C. Aubrey Smith soon limits his suspects to people in the building.

It's not a particularly difficult mystery to solve for the audience, so director William Dieterle fills it in with interesting performances. Lionel Atwill as a retired bureaucrat seems softer and feebler than in any other role; perhaps it is the mustache. Verree Teasdale, as his wife seems about twenty years older than her real-life 30, but she always seemed to play women a bit on the matronly side. Anita Louise, as their daughter, seems small and hesitant. And so forth, with a cast that includes Dorothy Tree, Hobart Cavanaugh, Etienne Giradot, and Skippy. Ernest Haller's photography seems a bit intermittently soft, as if there is some problem with the print, but that might have been a deliberate decision.