Murder by the Clock

An ice blooded femme fatale uses her wiles to eliminate the men who stand between her and a fortune. More a psychological study than a mystery, it may be a bit creaky by today's standards, but still is surprisingly entertaining.

Curiously enough, none of the previous reviewers have picked up on this film's title, which has negligible bearing upon anything that actually happens; of which there is plenty. What 'Murder by the Clock' sorely lacks is decent direction, editing and a music score; what it has is a jaunty plot, a magnificent (though underused) churchyard and crypt set, atmospheric photography by Karl Struss, an entertaining cast of wierdos and weaklings. And the breathtaking Lilyan Tashman.

Blanche Friderici is Julia Endicott, matriarch of the Endicott clan, plainly nearing the end of its thinning bloodline; her only heirs being Philip (Irving Pichel), a hulking simpleton capable of breaking a man's neck with his bare hands but little else, and Herbert (Walter McGrail) a drunken weakling completely under the thumb of his gold digging wife Laura, who Julia sums up as "a malicious designing creature, ought to be hung for a witch." The late Lilyan Tashman is an absolute blast as this platinum blonde Lady Macbeth smirking evilly one minute, shedding crocodile tears the next while flirting like mad with every man in sight with a pulse ("I could be awfully fond of you"), her curvaceous, Amazonian chassis seductively on display in a clinging satin number that would probably have caused censorship problems a few years later.

The unfunny comic relief provided by Irish cop Regis Toomey and maid Sally O'Neil is rendered wholly superfluous by Tashman's rollicking performance, which gets plenty of appreciative laughs. She meets her match, however, in Lt. Valcour (William 'Stage' Boyd), who engages her in a final battle of wills, "one artist to another".

"Murder by the Clock" is an early murder mystery and it has a lot going for it. Unfortunately, it seems to have just about as much going against it and I see it as a movie only worth seeing if you have nothing better to do!

When the story begins, you learn that a nasty old lady is trying to figure out which person to leave her fortune to--and one is an obviously psychotic and mentally challenged guy. But leaving the money to a different relative is NOT a good choice either, as the man and his conniving wife, Laura, plan on murdering the old lady. Once this occurs, it's like a bag of potato chips...and Laura manipulates the men around her to keep killing to ensure she'll be rich AND avoid jail.

The problems with the film mostly boil down to subtlety....or the lack of it. Laura (Lilyan Tashman) is so obviously manipulative and evil that she's practically a cartoon character (like Snidely Whiplash, perhaps). And, because she's so obvious and transparent, seeing men throwing their lives away for this not super attractive and nasty lady just didn't make any sense. The other problem was that the film went on too long...and relied too much on filler. Cutting a bit of it AND making Laura more believably evil would have improved this one significantly.

1931's "Murder by the Clock" has remained a forgotten horror from the early 30s, but not by such eminent film historians like William K. Everson, who dutifully included it in his 1974 book CLASSICS OF THE HORROR FILM. Had it been made at Universal, no doubt it would be as well remembered as "Dracula" (which preceded it) or "Frankenstein" (which followed it), but Paramount did their share of terror classics too ("Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde," "Island of Lost Souls," "Murders in the Zoo"). The sultry and seductive Lilyan Tashman (Mrs. Edmund Lowe) epitomizes what the word 'vampire' meant to audiences prior to Lugosi, a huge star going back nearly ten years, whose life would sadly end from cancer just three years after she made this. Irving Pichel, as the halfwit son with the strength of a bull, preferred working behind the camera rather than in front of it; nevertheless, as an actor, only his memorable work opposite Gloria Holden in "Dracula's Daughter" can compare with his macabre characterization here. Comic relief is supplied by Sally O'Neil's maid and Regis Toomey's Oirish cop (she co-starred with young Lon Chaney in 1933's "Sixteen Fathoms Deep," while Toomey's next film would see him co-starring with Boris Karloff in Universal's "Graft"). No, Paramount rarely dabbled in horror during the 30s, yet there wasn't a single dud among them.

Disagreeable Blanche Friderici disinherits her son, Irving Pichel, who is a death-obsessed dullard, in favor of her nephew, Walter McGrail. He may be a drunk, and married to money-hungry Lilyan Tashman who's carrying on an affair with artist Lester Vail, she reasons, but he's not a brute. Miss Tashman tries to convince her husband the old lady should die tonight before she can change her mind, and she, she means they, can enjoy the money. And so the old lady is murdered, and the police come along. The chief of police thinks it's obviously Pichel, but lieutenant William 'Stage' Boyd is not so sure.

Three more murders and a resurrection take place in this Old Dark House mystery. It's certainly a creepy movie, what with the low light levels and creepy performances, but it shows the strength and weakness of director Edward Sloman. Visually it's perfect, but some of the performances are distinctly off; Sloman never really got out of the silent and largely depended on performers who could direct themselves, or a good dialogue director. Perhaps that's why the best performances are offered by Regis Toomey and Sally O'Neal, whose comic courtship amidst death and gloom are most welcome.