Death Goes to School

I could only award this 1953 film 5/10.As the diner guest in Basil Fawlty's restaurant at "Fawlty Towers" said when asked by Basil "Did he like his meal?" he responded, (the way I felt when I saw this film today with my wife, an ex-teacher at a primary school); "Well it was adequate".So I appear to damn the film with faint praise but look at the obvious production budget.In the year of the coronation most British cinemas showed a cartoon, Pathe news, a "B" feature before "the big "A" picture" and I suspect this would have been a "B" picture then.We must therefore expect cheaper relatively unknown actors/actresses and virtually no locational shots filmed outside the studio system.Indeed the only actors I recognised were:Gordon Jackson, Sam Kydd, Beatrice Varley and Barbara Murray, hardly household names then and probably unknown to our American friends who saw this film.

Now having got the carping out of the way did it have some good points?Well yes, the screenwriters managed to keep "whodunnit" right to the end but the motive for murder was not sufficiently evident to me.There would be a job awaiting Miss Shepherd in the police if she wanted to give up music teaching but having teaching in my family, it tends to get into your blood.

DEATH GOES TO SCHOOL is a low rent British murder mystery that provides a neat counterpoint to the more popular hilarity of the ST. TRINIANS movies, which were just taking off during the decade. The production company was the little-known Independent Artists, who knocked out a few quota quickies before moving into TV production in the 1960s. The excellent NIGHT OF THE EAGLE is undoubtedly their best (and well-known) production.

This story is a typical murder mystery with a couple of sleuths in an all-girl school, hot on the trail of a murderer who took down the headmistress by strangulation with a scarf. All they have is a footprint to go on, but they soon uncover a hotbed of hatred and false identity, and they must piece together the clues to discover the one responsible.

The film features a leading role for a youthful Gordon Jackson as the no-nonsense detective and the ubiquitous Sam Kydd (who's uncredited for some reason) as his right hand man. The characterisation is slim, and the denouement is rather unremarkable, but the plot remains focused throughout. The all-girl school setting is a good one that Hammer would later use in the likes of LUST FOR A VAMPIRE in the 1970s. This film was shot at the attractive Merton Park Studios in Wimbledon, later the setting for the obscure Michael Gough horror, THE CORPSE.

The scene is a girls school where a pupil discovers the strangled body of her teacher. The dead woman had made many enemies at the school during her stay so there is no shortage of suspects. Scotland Yard arrives with Inspector Campbell (Gordon Jackson) in charge of the investigation. Key to the probe is a small ladies footprint found at the scene of the crime, prompting Inspector Campbell to believe the woman was murdered by another staff member.

The print I saw was clear and crisp and the production values nice for a low budget British mystery. The cast was solid but not spectacular in their work. The screenplay is somewhat staid and lacking an energy. The film tells the story from the viewpoint of the Police Inspector and a young schoolteacher who is under investigation. This crossing of views should deliver a interesting journey, yet it remains quite sedate.

I enjoyed this film. It was nice to see Gordon Jackson in a lead role and it was nice to discover a rare, old British mystery. This is not a lost gem, but a nice film for fans of British mysteries, like myself.

This is the only feature directed by Stephen Clarkson. It's hard to see why, as he does a good job, and co-wrote the script with Maisie Sharman. I'm grateful to Renown and their Talking Pictures TV for the chance to see this rare film.

A teacher at a south of England girls' school is murdered, and since she had a talent for angering her colleagues, there are plenty of suspects. The investigation is led by Inspector Campbell from Scotland Yard. He's a dour Scot with a chip on his shoulder (he'd definitely have voted for independence!) but fortunately he's played by Gordon Jackson, who's always a sympathetic presence. I saw him play a villain in another Renown offering, I think "The Delavine Affair," and he didn't ring true.

One reviewer complained about the cut-glass accents, but given the date and milieu they're to be expected. The Queen still talks like that, and I agree it's irritating, but not as irritating as the inaudibility of so many modern American actors, which makes you wonder why their scriptwriters bothered writing dialogue.

"Death|" is unusual for a British B of the '50s is that there's some humour. When Campbell asks Miss Shepherd what book she's been reading she says "Death in Seven Hours", the book by Ms Sharman on which this film is based. She then needles the inspector by saying that an amateur sleuth solved the mystery. This gives the audience a clue, as later she solves the mystery before him, though to be fair that's because she'd seen something and not told him about it.

All in all, an enjoyable way to spend 64 minutes.

All I can say, is this movie was taken from a book written by the author Stratford Davis - and it didn't do her justice. Yup, a little background. The male name Stratford Davis was actually the pen name of a female with the birth name Maisie Sharman who wrote several books under the male name just so she could be published during the thirties. She later penned several more books under the name Miriam Sharman (last name was real until she married a Bolton in Hampshire, and then went under the name Miriam Bolton for several screenplays for the BBC). The reason I know this trivia about a little known author is simply because she was my great-aunt on my maternal Grandfather's side. I have collected several of her books from her later periods (50's and 60's); and while they would never be on a par with Conan Doyle or P.D. James, I found them enjoyable for a short bout of escapism.