The Firebird

This Warner Bros. film starts off slowly as a romantic drama, but then becomes a fast paced murder mystery with an ending hard to predict. I was not especially put off by the stage origin of the screenplay, the inauthentic accents of a story supposedly set in Vienna, or the tenuous connection to the Firebird, either as myth or music. The performances of the principals were weak: Ricardo Cortez as the victim, Verree Teasdale (overacting), and Anita Louise (quite beautiful, but unconvincing). This is more than made up for by the supporting roles of Dorothy Tree as the sharp-tongued ex-wife of the victim and Lionel Atwill as the initially oblivious and later befuddled husband/father. Even C. Aubrey Smith, usually relegated to pipe smoking and pontificating, has a more substantial role in this film as the inspector who actually solves the crime.

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.

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.

You can tell that a lot of production money was thrown at THE FIREBIRD but for the life of me I can't tell why it's set in Germany. Ricardo Cortez (the corpse to be) plays a horndog actor with a shady past who lives in a high class apartment building. There's an angry ex-wife, an effeminate personal assistant that's in love with the corpse's Dachsund, and well heeled neighbors with a lovely daughter (Anita Louise) who fear for their reputation. C. Aubrey Smith, the 71-year old impeccable Englishman, plays the police inspector. Remember this is supposed to be set in 1934 Germany (what, no Nazis?). Except for the wiener dog, the apartment manager's pipe, beer swilling policeman and some German shop signs, you'd never know it. Not one stab at an accent between them. A standard whodunnit.