A Volta de Bulldog Drummond

Bulldog Drummond was sort of the James Bond of the 1930s (not least because in both cases, a rather thuggish and brutal book character was made more gentlemanly and dashing on screen). Ronald Colman had a huge success with 1929's Bulldog Drummond, which is fairly creaky as a film but unquestionably showed him off as one of the first actors to understand acting for talkies, and remains watchable today because of his relaxed and charming presence.

Where it took three or four increasingly over-the-top Bond films before the spoofs started coming, two of the next three Drummond films (all made in 1934) were at least semi-tongue-in-cheek-- sort of like if Casino Royale and In Like Flint had followed immediately after Dr. No. While the British Return of Bulldog Drummond (with Ralph Richardson as the only screen Drummond apparently as racist and violent as the original) was serious, Bulldog Jack starred the rather dire comic Jack Hulbert as a nebbish ineptly posing as Drummond (with Richardson again, phoning in a performance as a shaggy-haired villain). And then there's this sort-of sequel to the 1929 Colman film ("sort of" because apart from Colman it's a completely different cast, crew and even studio), which is ostensibly a straight thriller, and quite suspenseful in parts-- yet has a self-mocking, absurdist edge far beyond anything in the 1929 film.

Under the fast-paced direction of Warner Bros. veteran Roy Del Ruth, there's a definite screwball influence here, with bodies disappearing and reappearing and Colman reacting to it all with a kind of bemused unflappability that goes well beyond even Powell and Loy's approach to detective work in The Thin Man. For a 1930s film it's startlingly self-referential and conscious of being a movie-- Colman declines a ride because he says it fits his image better to be seen disappearing into the fog, and at one point he flat out predicts that this is just the moment when a beautiful woman in distress should appear at the door, which of course she does. You half expect Basil Exposition's father to turn up and help him advance the plot.

Warner Oland makes a nicely exasperated villain, part straight man and part genuine menace, and though Charles Butterworth's exceedingly dim Algy is a bit tiresome (when Algy turns out to be a ex-wartime cryptographer, you're startled to discover he can even read), it's a genuine delight to see C. Aubrey Smith playing a real character and not Stock Crusty Old Gent #1.

Now then, if this is so good, why haven't you ever seen it? Unfortunately, 20th Century (not Fox yet) only owned the rights to the story it's based on for a certain period, so though they still own the film itself, they no longer have the legal right to exhibit it in the US. So it's never been released to TV here (although for some reason they have shown it on TV in Britain, and passable copies reportedly circulate in this country duped from British TV broadcasts). Fox ought to look past the constant repackaging of its ten most famous movies, write a small check to the McNeile estate for permanent rights and then make a big ballyhoo about the rediscovery and video release of a lost classic from the golden age of Hollywood.

This has got everything: a damsel in distress, dastardly sinister foreigners, a haunted house, disappearing corpses and an evil plot which only our dashing English adventurer can foil.

Bulldog Drummond was astonishingly popular in the 20s and 30s. He was James Bond, Indiana Jones and Poirot all rolled into one. Ronald Colman is wonderfully, fantastically and magnificently over the top as the epitome of the English gentleman. "You're like something out of a book" Loretta Young tells him and that's just what he is. He doesn't try to be realistic, he's a super hero pure and simple.

It's rare that you can say this about a film from this era but every single second is exciting. It's one of Daryl Zanuck's first productions from his new 'Twentieth Century Pictures' since he broke away from Warner Brothers and for this he poached top director Roy del Ruth from his old studio. Their result is superb. Everything works: the pace is perfect, the story is intriguing and exciting and the cast were surely born to play these roles.

Lastly, if you've not seen a 1930s Loretta Young picture for a while you'll be absolutely staggered by how insanely beautiful she was back then. Although she's also a marvellous actress, she's not actually the star in this. Obviously Ronald Colman steals the show but close on his heels is Charles Butterworth, the comedy relief. Often the comedy relief in a 1930s film was just an annoyance but he's brilliant in this. That dry wit and befuddled insouciance is one of the many highlights of this hour and a half of joy.

They knew what they were doing when they made this - pure entertainment.

This was Ronald Colman's second and last appearance as Hugh "Bulldog" Drummond - although there were a couple of unrelated Drummond films since the 1929 original - and, while made at a different studio (Fox as opposed to Goldwyn), the film-makers seem to have learned their lesson by approaching the whole as if it were a spoof on the genre (in my review of the earlier film, I had criticized the star's unflappable nature for being incongruous with the melodramatic narrative involved)!

Incidentally, I was initially disappointed to find here a very similar plot of a girl's extended relatives (these damsels-in-distress never seem to have parents, siblings or even boyfriends, only elderly – read: useless – uncles and aunts!) being victimized by the villains for some reason or other...but the denouement of this one does contrive to expose a foreign potentate's nefarious plot to infect the United Kingdom with cholera (again, the necessity to think big in this department has, sensibly, been taken in stride). Interestingly, the chief heavy here is none other than Warner Oland – concurrently engaged to play famed Oriental sleuth Charlie Chan in a long-running series at the same studio!

Anyway, Colman has not only changed his 'home' here but also his central sidekick, Algy – resulting in a less buffoonish, and amusingly laid- back, interpretation by Charles Butterworth (he spends the entire movie, which unfolds during a single night, coming and going, at Drummond's behest, to his patient brand-new wife Una Merkel); even the leading lady (Loretta Young) is, for lack of a better word, more up his alley...though she still does little more than look frightened and faint! Another notable character, who would become a fixture of the series when it moved over to Paramount, is that of Col. Neilson (a typically splendid C. Aubrey Smith, who would reunite with Colman on his best film i.e. the definitive 1937 version of THE PRISONER OF ZENDA) – whose slumber Drummond frequently interrupts with tall tales of murder and intrigue, only to have the evidence subsequently disappear on him (years before the comedy team of Abbott & Costello made this a classic routine)! So flustered does the elderly Scotland Yard man become with the hero's 'ravings' that he appoints two 'bobbies' (one of them being archetypal British 'twit' E.E. Clive) to prevent him from further importuning Oland at his mansion; still, this whole business leads to delightfully Hitchcockian sequences in which Drummond actually finds the police's intervention a blessing!

The extended climax, too, is wonderful: having rescued the heroine and her aunt beforehand from the oblivious baddies, the imprisoned Drummond then takes pleasure in disorienting Oland & Co. (including Kathleen Burke from ISLAND OF LOST SOULS {1932} as the evil Prince's daughter – exotically made-up but given little to sink her teeth into, though she is involved in the movie's biggest laugh-out-loud moment when forced to take shelter behind a settee with one of her minions upon entering Colman's house to kidnap a wary Young! – and an unrecognizable Mischa Auer) by phoning from the dungeons to let them in on his supposed feats in liberating the captives!; eventually, he and Algy escape detention and race to the docks to destroy the contaminated vessel – with Oland bowing out by his own hand, having graciously conceded defeat. The "Bulldog Drummond" series was singled out by the late British film critic Leslie Halliwell among his second batch of favourites, yet he opted for a title from the lesser later efforts, BULLDOG DRUMMOND COMES BACK (1937), rather than either of the character's initial Talkie adventures! For the record, I still have 18 of Colman's vehicles lying unwatched in my collection...and a future 1947 entry in the series landed the exact same title as this one (a curious fate which also befell BULLDOG DRUMMOND AT BAY)!!

This is certainly an absolute highlight of the long and prolific 'career' of amateur sleuth Bulldog Drummond. A very clever story, not quite unlike Hitchcock's "The Lady Vanishes": a young woman knows someone is in great danger, but a very influential person has instructed everybody around her to tell her lies until she almost thinks she's crazy - and while in "The Lady Vanishes" it was Michael Redgrave, here of course it's charming, nonchalant and fearless Ronald Colman alias Bulldog Drummond who rushes to her aid - happy that he's stumbled upon a mysterious case again at last, while he was just about to 'retire' to Essex...

But this time the madness goes even further: while Drummond thinks he's got the girl in a safe place, she disappears - and when he manages to 'kidnap' her aunt in turn from the baddies and take her to his home, she disappears too - and now his old friend from Scotland Yard, Colonel Nielsen, thinks Bulldog's mad! But of course he's not...

So there's plenty of entertainment and examples of British humor here amidst the contrasting creepy, foggy night streets of London with mean faces lurking in the dark: Bulldog spoils his best friend Algie's wedding night asking to assist him in this strange case, and he doesn't let poor old Colonel Neilsen get a minute of sleep all night with his constant disturbances, who in turn threats he'll hang him someday...

In short, a real feast for every fan of classic murder mysteries with a good dose of humor - laughs as well as shudders guaranteed!

This is an enjoyable light murder mystery, but I might have enjoyed it more if I hadn't recently seen BLIND ADVENTURE, made the year before by Ernest B. Schoedsack for RKO. The plot elements, as I recall, are strikingly similar: a foggy London night, the hero accidentally going into a house and finding a body, which is then missing when he comes back with help; a young girl's relative disappearing, and a foreign ambassador of some sort who seems legit but is a bad guy; constant breaking into the house in question; all the action occurring in one evening; and the hero and the girl-in-distress an item by the evening's end. And, in both instances, comedy relief that actually adds to the film! Roland Young was very pleasing in BLIND ADVENTURE, but no one can match Butterworth at his best, which he is here. Once again, one feels that he had to have written many of his lines. Here, he's married that very day to Una Merkel, who affectionately calls him "Mousey." Colman: "Never leave your wife." Butterworth: "I'll speak to her about it." When Drummond finds adventure, he calls up Butterworth and asks him to tag along, without a care that it's Butterworth's wedding night. Butterworth isn't really an innocent here, he knows what he's missing out on. In response to one of these calls, he says, "we've reached sort of a critical moment." Robert Armstrong in BLIND ADVENTURE seems a more real, more interesting character. Here, both the script and Colman play it as a not-to-be-taken-seriously, boy's-own adventure, a tacit acknowledgment that this is just another caper in a series. One nice addition here is that the inevitable policeman who doesn't believe there's a problem is C. Aubrey Smith. You're on his side, really. Why doesn't this boy scout let him get some sleep?

Apparently Butterworth was an off-screen drinking buddy of such literary wits as Robert Benchley and Corey Ford. Note that Benchley wrote "additional dialogue" for BLIND ADVENTURE, presumably for Young's Butterworth-like character.