Guilty as Hell

"Guilty As Hell" is an excellent crime drama which follows the same format later used in the "Columbo" tv series: we see a man plan a murder and carry it out, then we see him attempt to mislead the homicide detective. This film is NOT a whodunit, because we know the murderer's identity and methods from the very beginning. What matters here is the duel of wits between the killer and the sleuth. Wealthy Doctor Tindall (played by Henry Stephenson) murders his wife and sets up an elaborate "Columbo"-type alibi for himself, involving his next-door neighbours and a vacuum-tube radio of the type that was common when this movie was made (1932). One piece of business in this movie will be obscure for modern viewers, so (without spoiling anything, and to help you follow what's happening) I'll explain that old-fashioned radios didn't activate until several seconds after they were switched on, because they needed time for the valves to warm up. As part of his murder scheme, Dr Tindall also invents a new flavour of chewing-gum; what he does with it will surprise you.

The chief detective is well-played by Victor McLaglen, and his rival is Edmund Lowe. These two actors played friendly adversaries in many films (going back to "What Price Glory?" in silent days) and their rivalry here is a pleasure to watch. Instead of teaming up to solve the murder, they work against each other.

I'll give "Guilty As Hell" seven and a half points out of 10 ... or 8 points if you like unconventional crime stories.

Doctor Henry Stephenson calmly strangles his wife, walks out the front door and goes to a medical conference to lecture his audience on "How to Grow Old". By the time Police Homicide Captain Victor Maclaglen and reporter Edmund Lowe show up, the dead woman's lover, Richard Arlen, is set up to be framed. When Lowe sees Arlen's sister, he decides that anyone with a sister as lovely as that can't be a murderer.

Edmund Lowe seems a lot more relaxed and natural in a three-piece suit and a battered trilby than he does in his usual evening clothes. In addition, there seems to be one-way chemistry between him and co-star Victor McLaglen, strangely far afield from their usual haunts at Fox. Of course, there their pairing commanded the best directors, while at Paramount, they had Erle Kenton -- not a bad director, but one used to letting his comic stars have their own way. He also seems to let cinematographer Karl Strauss do what he wants to, resulting in big shadows thrown against walls from low sidelights, in an ur-Noir fashion, while the camera occasionally retreats to an upper corner to gaze down at the players, or goes in for a mildly fish-eyed close-up.

What these were supposed to accomplish is unclear to me. Struss had come to Hollywood by way of New York and portrait photography. Like Arlen, his career was on the downslide, called in as often for uncredited work as for credited, and the projects he got a formal credit after 1935 were usually for smaller, more specialized producers, like Chaplin or Hal Roach. He lit his last set in 1959, and died 22 years later, aged 95.

The early 1930s up to July of 1934 was an interesting time in Hollywood. In this so-called 'Pre-Code' period, the Production Code governing what content was and wasn't allowed in films was generally ignored. Sure, there was a Code, but it meant almost nothing to the studios. If you see many of these films today, you might be shocked to see content they never would have allowed up until the 1960s or later. Homosexuality, adultery, fornication, abortion, extreme violence and occasional nudity were what you might see in a Pre-Code film....though of course not all Pre-Code films were so salacious.

When it comes to "Guilty as Hell", you have a great example of a movie that clearly belongs to the Pre-Code. After all, you could rarely ever curse in films after mid-1934 and only then if you received special dispensation, such as with Rhett Butler's famous last line in "Gone With the Wind".

The story starts with a graphic strangling..seen in the glasses of the murderer. When the police and medical examiners arrive, so does a snappy-talking reporter, Russell Kirk (Edmund Lowe). His bloodhound instincts brought him here and it soon becomes apparent that he's a bit of a jerk with a sick sense of humor. Soon it becomes apparent that this is a film like so many during the 1930s and 40s, where a non-professional ends up working on the case and makes the cops look like idiots. These idiots manage to catch the wrong man who ends up getting convicted for the killing...and it's up to Kirk to make things right and catch the real killer.

This role is a bit unusual for Lowe, as he generally played sophisticated, well-dressed guys. Here, he is dressed in a crummy wrinkled suit with a battered hat! And, he seems about as cultured as moldy cheese! The film also suffers a tad because the identity of the real murderer seems a bit obvious. But the film still is quite good...enjoyable albeit familiar.

As someone else mentioned this police procedural is done "Columbo style". In other words, you see the murder committed up front at the very beginning of the film and see how the murderer covers his tracks and even who he frames. The interesting part is seeing how Detective Capt. T.R. McKinley (Victor McLaglen) and reporter Russell Kirk (Edmund Lowe) solve the case. McLaglen and Lowe did a series of buddy pictures in the early 30's first at Fox and then at Paramount. This is one of the Paramount entries. As usual, the two claim to be friends but never cease to antagonize each other. In this case, reporter Kirk feels like he has the right to waltz into McKinley's office and interfere in his cases any time he feels like it because his stories got McKinley noticed and therefore promoted. During the first half of the film you'll most likely wish the murderer had strangled Kirk too, because he behaves in a most despicable manner - he's just a hardboiled unlikable guy. For example, at the crime scene he is standing over the corpse, smoking, sprinkling his cigarette ashes on her, and discussing how he doesn't care for the way the dead woman is dressed - he prefers women in nightgowns to women in pajamas. The Ick Factor is incredible. He later shows a softer side after he falls for the sister of the man who is framed for the murder.

Claire Dodd shows up as the murder victim in about five seconds of screen time. If you watch many precodes, in this film you finally get to see what you've probably wanted to see in any of those films in which she usually plays a femme fatale with no conscience - someone strangling the life out of her. Highly recommended for both fans of precode cinema and good old crime films.

This "will-he-get-caught?" (as opposed to a whodunit) story boasts some innovative, impressively mobile camerawork but is nearly ruined by Edmund Lowe's highly obnoxious (at least in the first half) character; when he makes fun of the dead body of a woman lying right in front of him and drops his cigarette ashes on her, he crosses a line that his later "redemption" ark by trying to help a damsel in distress cannot fully bring him back from. The opening sequence is certainly a grabber. **1/2 out of 4.