La vittima sommersa

Donald Woods takes over the role of Perry Mason in the last of the Mason series that Warner Brothers did in the 30s with Ann Dvorak as Della Street in The Case Of The Stuttering Bishop. Erle Stanley Gardner's lawyer/sleuth would have to wait for television and Raymond Burr for its next incarnation.

Edward McWade, a bishop who stutters comes from Australia to see Woods about a possible fraud being perpetrated on millionaire Gordon Oliver regarding a fake granddaughter being foisted upon him. Later on Myra McKinney, Oliver's estranged daughter-in-law is arrested and it's Perry Mason for the defense.

Hamilton Burger played by Charles Wilson and Joseph Crehan as Paul Drake also appear. Burger for his one and only time in the movie series and Drake is a more traditional private eye. Previously Drake was "Spudsy Drake" played for comic relief by Allen Jenkins in previous films.

Viewers of the classic TV series will note that this observes the Perry Mason paradigm about never having guilty clients and the killer being unmasked in court. Previous films strayed from that somewhat.

I have to mention Tom Kennedy who took a leave from the Torchy Blaine series and brought his usual thick as a brick detective character with him. He's a favorite so incredibly droll and so naive.

Watch it for Tom Kennedy alone.

Donald Woods and Ann Dvorak were fine as Perry Mason and his secretary, Della Street, but it took me a while to get used to not seeing Raymond Burr in the Mason role. The complicated plot involves two women named Janice who claim to be the heir to the fortune of Douglas Wood, and an Australian bishop who asks Mason to see Mira McKinney, who can prove which one is the real one. But Wood is killed going to the rendezvous with McKinney, who is charged with murder. In customary Perry Mason style, there is a final courtroom scene (in this case only a hearing) where Mason flushes out the killer and the phony Janice. I enjoyed trying to follow the plot and the comedy that was prevalent. Tom Kennedy suddenly remembers an important item when he hears the name "Sampson," because it involves a ship called "Delilah." Woods always asking Dvorak to remind him to give her a raise when she gets a good idea (a running gag). Even the bishop, who explains he stutters only when under some emotional stress, provides some comedy at the end. He sheepishly stammers "g-g-goodness g-g-gracious" when three of the principal women kiss him goodbye.

The Perry Mason series of mysteries from the 1930s are some of the best mysteries one could watch. One needs to pay attention to details throughout the film to follow the twists in the plot, which in this movie is very complicated. The movies closely follow the Erle Stanley Gardner mystery novels on which they are based. The Case of the Stuttering Bishop holds one's interest from beginning to end as Perry Mason cleverly addresses the case of a murder committed over a will, inheritance and the fraudulent identity of a key player. Donald Woods does not play the role of Perry Mason as well as Warren William did in this series. William plays the role with panache and wit, whereas Donald Woods plays the role straightforward with no flair—serviceable but not exciting. Ann Dvorak plays the role of Della Street straightforward also with none of the sassiness and cuteness of Genevieve Tobin and none of the glamour and screen presence of Helen Trehnolme in other movies in the series. If you are a fan of old, intriguing mysteries, you won't be disappointed with this gem.

We had two great evolutionary paths in the 30s. One was an amazing diversity of invention to settle some basic narrative devices that have since served us well as the basic vocabulary of cinema. The other, parallel path was the pulp detective novel, a master of which was Gardner.

The traditional, Holmes form is that you are linked to the detective. You discover what he does. Christie followed this form, but it is difficult to render in film. Gardner may be the first case — since common — of the novel adopting cinematic form. His formula does seem friendly to film: we see events that Mason does not, often before he gets seriously engaged. These events give us a false impression of what happened, so we as viewers start out with a deficit.

Then we have the detection; Mason and company are detectives in act two. The third act is always a courtroom, which is why our detective has to be a lawyer. Courtroom conventions have their own evolution in film, and this instance is limited to what in Christie's stories has to be a contrived assembly of the suspects.

This format allows for more complicated mysteries than were usual in film. My own preference for 30's detection is Philo Vance because the formula was not so strict. But this is a good one in terms of allowing complexity and surprise. We have that here in this solid instance.

One of the decisions in defining the characters is how intimate to make the relationship between alpha male Mason and his pretty and competent secretary. Why this matters has to do, as Mason would say, with motive. We like the guy. He is smart, as smart as other detectives, but why he does what he does…

In some renderings of the Mason format, he just likes to win. He has his own Lestrade who he likes humiliating. Justice is incidental, and truth merely a tactic. He just like to strut.

In other renderings, he does what he does because he loves his team, his closest friend Drake and his lover Della. Both are profoundly loyal and true. He struts for her and we imagine passion after the obligatory Italian restaurant scene.

Here, a delicate balance between the two is maintained.

As someone who has read all 82 of the Perry Mason novels, I have to say that this is the best I've seen of the Warner Brothers Perry Mason films. Readers of Gardner's mysteries will appreciate how faithfully the screen writers were able to keep to the essentials of the original plot in this short 70 minute film.

This film is far superior to the turkeys WB made with Warren William (although that's not saying much.) And Donald Woods was more like the literary Mason than Raymond Burr, who was almost fat enough by the end of the TV series to play Nero Wolfe!

And, of course, there's the great 1930's atmosphere in this film, something the TV series could never hope to reproduce.