Carefree (1938)

Carefree (Dir: Mark Sandrich, 1938).

A frothy RKO romance; the 8th pairing of the incomparable Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers.

This one has Fred as a psychiatrist and Ginger as his patient and fiancee of his best pal (Ralph Bellamy). Things get complicated when she falls for him and he hypnotizes her to remain faithful to the groom. The movie's outcome is clearly signposted from early on, but there is considerable fun to be had on the journey, nonetheless.

With only four full-blown song and dance numbers Carefree is less a musical than a screwball comedy with the occasional break for a song. The Irving Berlin score is pleasant enough, but by the composer’s own high standards is not especially memorable. 'Change Partners' and 'I Used to Be Color Blind' are the possible exceptions; both are considerably enhanced by Ginger and Fred's fabulous footwork. The highlight is undoubtedly Astaire's solo 'Since They Turned Loch Lomand into Swing' in which he ditches Rogers to partner a golf-club, proving as adept on the fairway as he is the dance-floor. 

Allan Scott and Ernest Pagnos screenplay, while implausible, does include a fair amount of humorous moments. While director Mark Sandrich, by now a veteran of the Astaire-Rogers movies, handles the comedy and the dance numbers with equal aplomb. It is all a lot of nonsense, but all is forgiven when Fred and Ginger take the dance floor. There was never a classier screen couple than Mr Astaire and Ms Rogers and support is offered by a particularly distinguished cast, notably Ralph Bellamy and Jack Carson. Unbilled and underused in one of her many domestic help roles is the great Hattie McDaniel. 

As its title suggests, Carefree is lighthearted, featherweight stuff. Often regarded as the weakest of the Astaire-Rogers partnership, it does pale in comparison to classics such as Top Hat (Mark Sandrich, 1935) and Shall We Dance (Mark Sandrich, 1937). Still, at a little over 80 minutes, it doesn't outstay its welcome. The old adage "they don't make 'em like that anymore" certainly applies here; fluff it may be, but it is consummately produced fluff, expertly performed by its legendary cast.

The Holly and the Ivy (1952)

The Holly and the Ivy (Dir: George More O'Ferrall, 1952).

It has now been a few weeks since I watched this movie and I appear to have misplaced my notes. So, please forgive me for a review which is even lighter on insight and heavier on vague observances than usual!

Based on a play by Wynyard Browne, The Holly and the Ivy relates the story of a Christmas family reunion of the Gregory family, the patriarch of which is a seemingly stuck in his ways, traditionalist village pastor (Ralph Richardson); resented by his grown up family, who feel he has neglected them in favour of his parishioners. Tensions rise and family secrets are revealed before the expected reconciliation on Christmas morning. 

A Christmas movie that previously flew under the radar, the reputation of The Holly and the Ivy seems to have grown in recent years. With its scintillating scandals and family feuds it is little more than the stuff of soap opera, but it is high class soap opera at that. Director George More O'Ferrall handles the potentially melodramatic subject in a low-key, restrained fashion, eliciting natural, believable performances from his cast. 

At age 50, Ralph Richardson is a little too young to fully convince as the aged Reverend Gregory. It is an otherwise great performance, but the role would undoubtedly have benefited from the casting of an actor of more maturity. As his daughters, Celia Johnson and Margaret Leighton are the real standouts. Both convey their individual personal trauma with empathy and sensitivity. In an early appearance for the actor, the great Denholm Elliott also impresses as the alcohol dependent son.

The Holly and the Ivy offers little that hasn't been seen in countless other family dramas; its situations the now familiar tropes of  formulaic 'Movie of the Week' features. Yet it is told with a sensitivity generally missing from such made for TV movies. It boasts a superior cast and strong direction from O'Ferrall. It also benefits from a warm nostalgia that tempers the sensationalist aspects of the story. While perhaps not quite a top drawer festive feature, it is a minor Christmas classic nonetheless.

Murder Ahoy (1964)

Murder Ahoy (Dir: George Pollock, 1964). 

The fourth and final entry in MGM’s Miss Marple series. 

Here the amateur sleuth boards the retired battleship HMS Battledore, now used by charity Trust for the rehabilitation of juvenile delinquents, in order to investigate the death of one of the charity's trustees. It is anything but plain sailing as more crew members are bumped off and Miss Marple's own life is at risk as she uncovers embezzlement and theft on board. 

The only title in the series not directly based on an Agatha Christie novel; the opening credits bear the legend “original screenplay by David Pursall and Jack Seddon based on their interpretation of Agatha Christie’s Miss Marple”. The wording here is key as, with a markedly more comic tone, this is definitely Pursall and Seddon’s interpretation rather than Christie’s.  However, having previously adapted three Christie novels, the writers prove more than adept at recreating a murder mystery with twists and turns worthy of the author. 

Wary that the franchise was in need of a refresh, the decision to set much of the movie on board the HMS Battledore gives it a slightly different flavour from other series entries. With Miss M spending much of the film aboard ship she relies heavier than usual on her land based contact and constant companion Mr Stringer (Stringer Davis). It’s nice for Davis to have a bit more to do and this different dynamic also serves to shake up the formula somewhat. 

Again, Rutherford is wonderful as Miss Marple; nothing like the character in the books, but an excellent comic creation in its own right. There is nothing quite as priceless here as when she danced the twist in Murder at the Gallop (George Pollock, 1963), but she does get to demonstrate her considerable fencing skills! As always, a cast of familiar vintage British stars offer sturdy support, most notably Lionel Jeffries whose terrific comic performance as ship's Captain Sydney De Courcy Rhumstone almost steals the movie from Rutherford. Also keep an eye out for Brit comedy favourites Nicholas Parsons and Derek Nimmo, both of whom register well in smaller roles.

This was to be Rutherford’s last Miss Marple movie, although she and Davis did make one more appearance in character for a brief cameo in The Alphabet Murders (Frank Tashlin, 1965). This MGM attempt to repeat the success of the Miss Marple series with a similar comic Poirot series was less successful, despite a screenplay by Pursall and Seddon and a quality cast headed by Tony Randall. 

Like its predecessors Murder Ahoy is all very silly, yet also highly entertaining. Later Christie adaptations may have been more faithful but few have provided as much fun as this quartet of quality comic gems.  Purists may disagree, but this naval nonsense is hard not to warm to and concludes the series in ship shape fashion. 

Murder Most Foul (1964)

Murder Most Foul (Dir: George Pollock, 1964). 

MGM’s third outing for Agatha Christie’s amateur sleuth Miss Marple, with the incomparable Margaret Rutherford in the title role. 

Investigating the murder of a blackmailer, Miss Marple bluffs her way into theatrical troupe the Cosgood Players, with whom the victim has a previous association. The old girl knows she is on the right track as more troupe members are disposed of. Anyone of the players has possible motive for murder, and Miss Marple is soon in danger herself as the killer gets wind of her snooping.

As with the previous series entry Murder at the Gallop, this movie is based upon a novel featuring Christie’s Belgian detective Hercule Poirot, in this instance her 1952 novel Mrs McGinty’s Dead. As before, Poirot is elbowed out the picture to make way for Miss Marple. 

Once again Rutherford attacks the role of Miss Marple with relish! While nothing like the literary incarnation, she injects the role with such goodnatured bluster that its impossible not to love her interpretation. A strong supporting cast of Brit acting legends adds to the fun. Returning from previous adventures are Charles Tingwell as the long suffering Inspector Craddock and Rutherford's real life husband Stringer Davis as Miss Marple's chaste love interest Mr Stringer. Impressing among the suspects are Ron Moody, Dennis Price and James Bolam as the highly theatrical thesps and Megs Jenkins as the victim's sister. Terry Scott makes of his many appearances as a comic copper. 

As with other titles in the series, Murder Most Foul is not necessarily one for Christie purists. Great liberties are taken with the original, not just the recasting of the lead character. However, the movie is a lot of fun. Director George Pollock skillfully judges the overt comic tone with the more serious business of murder. There are genuine thrills to be found as the mystery unfolds to a neatly suspenseful, not too obvious climax. 

In truth, Murder Most Foul differs little from the two previous outings. But happily, what worked before works again and the formula still feels surprisingly fresh. Unfortunately Miss Marple doesn't delight us with her twist again, or any other fad dances for that matter. But as compensation she does perform a priceless rendition of  Robert W Service's poem The Shooting of Dan McGrew, which alone makes the movie worth a watch!

The Mob (1951)

The Mob (Dir: Robert Parrish, 1951).

A tough gangster movie-cum-film noir thriller. The Mob stars Broderick Crawford as Johnny Damico, a tough New York cop who poses as a longshoreman to bust up the corrupt union activity polluting the city's dockyards. 

Based upon the novel Waterfront by Ferguson Findlay, The Mob covers similar ground to the more famous On the Waterfront (Elia Kazan, 1954). Pre-dating the latter movie by three years it is more of a pulpy crime drama that Kazan's socially conscience classic. 

In his second outing as director, former editor Robert Parrish has crafted a hard hitting, at time brutal thriller which still packs a considerable punch seven decades later. It is a tough movie, with tough guys talking tough. William Bowers' screenplay is interspersed with some smart hard boiled dialogue, delivered in suitable pithy fashion by the excellent Broderick Crawford.

A year after his Oscar winning performance in All the King's Men (Robert Rossen, 1949) Crawford is dynamite here; perfectly cast as a hard nosed cop, ruthless in his mission to bring down the mob. Also impressing in an early role is Ernest Borgnine as thuggish mobster Johnny Castro. As his right hand man, Neville Brand is equally effective in one of many maniacal bad guy roles. 

Often categerised as a film noir, The Mob feels closer to a gangster film than a true noir; its staccato pacing and overall theme evoking the Warner Brothers mob movies of 1930s. It presents an evocative, shadowy world of backstreets and dive bars populated with shady characters It is surprisingly violent at times, especially in its realistically scrappy fist fights. 

It may not rank among the greatest thrillers of its era, but it is an exciting and engaging minor noir, or rather a gangster movie in noir clothing. Deserving of far more attention than it generally receives, The Mob is neat little crime flick with a cracking screenplay and a first rate cast. To my knowledge, the movies only official home video release is as part of Spain's Columbia Classics range. This may make The Mob a little difficult to source, but it is well worth the effort!

It Came from Outer Space (1953)

It Came from Outer Space (Jack Arnold, 1953).

Famous for their influential horror movies of the 1930, by the 1950s Universal Studios focus had shifted to a different kind of monster movie. Informed by increasing fear of nuclear war and the threat of Communism, seminal sci-fi movies such as This Island Earth (Joseph Newman, 1955) and The Incredible Shrinking Man (Jack Arnold, 1957) helped ligitimise the genre from its previous associated with comicbook serials and kid's Saturday Morning Pictures. The template for these serious minded, paranoia soaked sci-fi features was set with the first and most influential of the series, It Came from Outer Space.

Amateur astronomer John Putnam (Richard Carlson) is the only witness to a spacecraft crash on the outskirts of the small desert town of Sand Rock, Arizona. When his fellow townsfolk start acting suspiciously he expects alien influence. Convincing his girl Ellen (Barbara Rush) and cynical local sheriff (Charles Drake), a posse is assembled to flush out the intruders. Certain that the intelligent aliens are benign and pose no threat, John must keep the angry mob at bay while essential repairs are made to the damaged craft. Failure to do so risks the life of his captured pals. 

Based on an unpublished story by sci-fi maestro Ray Bradbury, It Came from Outer Space is, on the surface, a film about alien invasion. Yet, as with much of the sci-fi of its era, the movie serves as an analogy for the very real post-War fear of Communist infiltration. While acknowledging Bradbury with a story credit, the sole screenplay credit is attributed to Harry Essex. However, it is widely rumoured that he did little more than retype Bradbury’s original treatment, adding FADE IN/FADE OUT where necessary. While this may be an unfair assessment of Essex's contribution it cannot be ignored that the themes and particularly the poetic prose are very much evocative of Bradbury's writing. 

Originally, the alien in its non-human form was to remain unseen. Universal's insistence that the creature appear on camera resulted in some hasty reshoots. In truth, the myopic monster looks a little homemade but this does little to detract from the overall quality of the visual effects; particularly the initial crashlanding which sees the meteor-like craft hurtle at speed toward the audience. Shot and originally exhibited in 3D, the movie is surprisingly light on things being lobbed at the screen, so works just fine when viewed flat. Clifford Stine's beautiful black and white cinematography perfectly captures the eerie isolation of the desert surrounds, giving the impression of a barren alien landscape.  

Director Jack Arnold was a master at this sort of thing. In the hands of a lesser director it may easily have ended up B-movie sci-fi schlock. However, Arnold delivers an intelligent comment on the political and social mores of 1950's America; at its heart a plea for the acceptance of others. He elicits fine performances from a not exactly starry cast, as the drama unfolds with tension mounting pace. The action is drenched in an innovative and influential theremin rich soundtrack which adds to the eerie ambience. 

Although the Communism analogy may be lost on modern audiences, It Came from Outer Space is still an excellent, atmospheric sci fi classic that holds its own against more elaborate sci-fi shockers. If it seems a little cliched at times, this is only because it spawned so many imitations. In its own right the movie is a 50's monster masterpiece and a groundbreaking, original piece of popular cinema. 

One Must Fall (2018)

One Must Fall (Dir: Antonio Pantoja, 2018). 

A low budget, independent horror-comedy, the feature length debut of writer/director Antonio Pantoja. 

Unfairly dismissed from an office job by her creepy boss, single parent Sarah (Julie Streble) is forced to take a position as part of crime scene clean-up crew. When called to the site of a murder in abandoned warehouse, Sarah initially has concerns that the killer is still on the premises. Her fears are confirmed when, one by one, her colleagues start disappearing...

I am not a massive fan of horror and always feel a little out of my depth when I have to write about it. I love a creepy atmosphere in a horror movie but I don’t do so well with gore! One Must Fall is quite gory but it is also very funny. For me, the funnies did go some way to offsetting the grizzlies, although there was the odd moment when I felt compelled to look away from the screen; notably during a clean-up sequence and in the excessively bloody and highly improbable but amusing conclusion. 

Set in the 1980s, this is something that the visuals are not always entirely successful at conveying. The era is reinforced by pop culture references such as vintage Pepsi cans, Walkmans and nods to Janet Jackson and ET. There is also a cheeky anachronistic reference to the Duffer Brothers blockbuster 1980s period Netflix series Stranger Things (2016 - present). Adding authenticity is a neat electronic soundtrack, which recalls John Carpenter's music for his iconic slasher movie Halloween (John Carpenter, 1978).

Director Antonio Pantoja is not afraid to indulge in horror clichés, sometimes ironically, but always effectively. In this he has crafted a loving tribute to the genre's legacy. It lacks the polish of a larger production, but this is no bad thing; the lack of studio sheen lends it an air of 80s slasher movie authenticity. The cast, all of whom were unfamiliar to me, make a game task at juggling the more horrific scenes with some moments of goofy humour. Julie Streble, in particular, is both sympathetic and believable as the kick-butt heroine. 

With credible effects work and some genuine moments of tension One Must Fall should please ardent slasher aficionados. Those of a sensitive nature (like me!) might have second thoughts about watching. Ultimately, the black comedy aspect took the edge off of some of the nastiness and in the moments I wasn't averting my eyes from the screen, I was definitely entertained. 

I was lucky enough to catch a screening of One Must Fall at Southend-on-Sea's Horror-on-Sea Festival 2020. It doesn't appear, as yet, to be widely available. If comedy-horror-slasher movies are your thing this is worth keeping an eye out for!  

As Young as You Feel (1951)

As Young as You Feel (Dir: Harmon Jones, 1951). 

A lightweight comedy from 20th Century Fox which provided an early role for Marilyn Monroe. 

Aged 65 and facing forced retirement, John Hodges (Monty Woolley) blackens his greying hair and beard to pass himself as the younger Harold Cleveland, president of the parent company where the former printer worked. Aiming to overturn the company's ageist policy he successfully fools the boss Louis McKinley (Albert Dekker) who unexpectedly arranges for Hodges to address the local chamber of commerce. His rousing speech attracts the attention of  both the press and the real Cleveland (Minor Watson).

There is something Capra-esq about this tale of an underdog fighting against the system; there are also elements of the screwball comedy in its themes of role reversal and its saturising of big business. Somewhat surprisingly this was based on a story by Paddy Chayefsky. Those familiar with the writer's more acerbic screenplays for The Hospital (Arthur Hiller, 1971) and Network (Sidney Lumet, 1976) will find this satire of a far gentler persuasion. The directorial debut by former editor Harmon Jones, his work here is proficient but unexceptional. Much like the movie itself. Indeed, were it not for an early appearance by Marilyn Monroe, I feel the film would be little remembered today.

A standout in a small yet noticeable role as McKinley's secretary, Monroe was a mere two years away from her stardom cementing appearance in Gentlemen Prefer Blondes (Howard Hawks, 1953). Although playing to blonde bombshell type, she displays her considerable comic talents which would become more apparent as the decade progressed. Monty Woolley was always good value for money. Although he isn’t as well served here as in The Man Who Came to Dinner (William Keighley, 1942), his performance as the disgruntled Hodges is still a lot of fun. 

Although it provides a few big laughs, As Young as You Feel is never quite as funny as it threatens to be. At only 75 minutes, it feels distinctly like a support feature, albeit one with a quality cast. That said, it is a pleasant enough viewing experience and is worth watching for its fine comic performances courtesy of the bluff Monty Woolley and the radiant young Marilyn. 

Dr Goldfoot and the Bikini Machine (1965)

Dr Goldfoot and the Bikini Machine (Dir: Norman Taurog, 1965). 

Released in the UK under the slightly less cumbersome title Dr G and the Bikini Machine, this is a kooky 1960s teen-comedy-cum-spy-spoof from Hollywood’s greatest purveyors of exploitation, American International Pictures (AIP). 

The titular Dr Goldfoot (Vincent Price) has invented a machine for turning out lethal bikini clad robots with which he plans to ensnare the world's wealthiest men, acquire their assets and bump them off, eventually seeking world domination. Stumbling upon the plan are bumbling undercover agent Craig Gamble (Frankie Avalon) and playboy Todd Armstrong (Dwayne Hickman), both unwittingly smitten with humanoid Diane (Susan Hart). The pair face some Edgar Allen Poe worthy tortures as they attempt to infiltrate Goldfoot's lair and bust up his operation.

Any movie that opens with a stop motion animation sequence and a title song by the wonderful Diana Ross and the Supremes is already a winner in my view. The fact that I also have a soft spot for 1960s teen exploitation movies makes me predisposed to like Dr Goldfoot and the Bikini Machine. While not an official entry in AIP's Beach Party series, the movie is something of an offshoot of, or cousin to, the beach movies; taking its cues from both the beach and Bond. Beach Party regulars Annette Funicello and Harvey Lembeck’s Eric Von Zipper can both seen briefly as Goldfoot’s captives in his torture chamber. 

In a non-singing role the talented Frankie Avalon gives the impression of being a much better actor than Hollywood allowed. As his partner in crime-busting Dwayne Hickman, while lacking Frankie’s charisma, makes for a perfectly amiable leading man. The magnificent Vincent Price, meanwhile, happily leaves subtlety in his dressing room and hams it up a treat as the infamous Dr G. 

It’s all very silly and the humour is very broad and incredibly juvenile. Yet, despite what its title may suggest, it all pretty innocent stuff. No movie entitled Dr Goldfoot and the Bikini Machine was ever going to be a plea for feminism but neither is it as rampant with outdated sexism as you might expect. Incredibly, director Norman Taurog is the man who directed Spencer Tracy to Oscar glory in Boys Town (1938)! While this endeavour would not win any awards, Taurog keeps things moving at a rapid pace, with enough whimsical humour and general good vibes as to make it entertaining eye candy, if little else. It also benefits from some nice location footage of San Francisco, albeit mostly achieved through back projection. A high speed chase through the city's Bay Area aboard cars, motorcycles, cable cars and boats is a fun counterpoint to the more famous cinematic San Fransisco car chase of Bullitt (Peter Yates, 1968). All in all it is surprisingly polished for drive-in double feature fodder. 

Legend has it Dr Goldfoot and the Bikini Machine was the first AIP production with a budget upwards of $1 million. Was it worth the money? Clearly AIP though so, as the movie was deemed successful enough to warrant a sequel: Dr Goldfoot and the Girl Bombs (Mario Bava, 1966). The movie is no classic, even by AIP standards. Yet, at time when increasing civil unrest and the Vietnam War were encroaching on teenagers real lives, it is easy to see why escapist fluff such as this was popular. It is a fun time capsule of a more innocent era - at least in teen movies. Fans of beach movies, Bond and 1960s kitsch should find much to enjoy. 

Bush Christmas (1947)

Bush Christmas (Dir: Ralph Smart, 1947).

Set in the small valley community of Mara Mara, Bush Christmas follows the adventures of five children: brothers John (Morris Unicomb) and Snow (Nicky Yardley), their big sister Helen (Helen Grieve), English evacuee Michael (Michael Yardley) and friend Nesa (Nesa Saunders). After some horses are stolen from their ranch home, the kids decide to take the law into their own hands and set out into the Australian bush in order to track down the thieves and rescue the precious animals.

As the opening credits inform us, Bush Christmas was "made for cinema clubs for boys and girls" and was one of the first feature films from Rank Organisation's Children's Entertainment Film unit; a department which would eventually evolve into the Children's Film Foundation (CFF).

Bush Christmas has much higher production values than one would usually associate with the Children's Film Foundation. Although low budget, it feels significantly more polished than the usual, appealingly amateur, CFF output. Director Ralph Smart keeps the action moving at a steady pace while cinematographer George Heath captures the locations beautifully. Filmed in the Blue Mountains of New South Wales, the location photography is a definite plus and lends an atmosphere unique in family movies of the era. In common with CFF productions is the movie's simple plotting and broad performances, making it is easy to follow for its intended young audiences.

Chips Rafferty, then Australia's biggest homegrown movie star, hams it up nicely as Long Bill, the leader of the horse thieves. John Fernside and Stan Tolhurst are his cohorts, alternating some broad comedy with the required menace, as they are outwitted every step of the way by the kids.

Performances from the youngsters, none of whom had significant acting careers as adults, are appealing and natural. Nesa, the only indigenous lad, is slightly stereotyped, perhaps to be expected considering the era in which the movie was made. However, I feel the stereotyping is more naive than negative; with his knowledge of bush crafts he is shown to be the most intelligent and resourceful of the gang.

Set during the Australian summer, Bush Christmas is not especially festive for western audiences and is suitable viewing all year round. It is a modest little movie, but an engaging one at that. Perhaps a mite dated, but with enough comedy and action as to make it a worthwhile watch, especially for those looking for an alternative to modern family fare.  

The Men of Sherwood Forest (1954)

The Men of Sherwood Forest (Dir: Val Guest, 1954). 

An early production from Hammer Films, The Men of Sherwood Forest is a low budget but spirited romp with Don Taylor as the legendary Robin Hood. 

Deviating somewhat from the usual retelling of the legend, the simple plot involves Robin and his Merrie Men attempting to thwart an ambush attack on Richard the Lionheart on his return from the Crusades.

More famous for their Horror movies, Hammer also did a nice line in swashbucklers; the studio produced four Robin Hood movies, of which this was the first. 

Although clearly working with a meagre budget, director Val Guest makes decent use of outdoor locales and the movie feels less studio bound than might be expected. It also benefits from being shot in colour and whilst the action is not as well staged as in a more lavish production, Guest generally elicits decent performances from his actors, not all of whom are perfectly cast.

In the leading role, Don Taylor makes for a slightly bland hero. There is nothing essentially  wrong with his performance and with an athletic build he certainly looks the part of Robin. However with an accent that is more Hollywood than Sherwood, Taylor lacks both the authenticity and charisma of earlier Robin Hoods such as Errol Flynn or Richard Todd. Likewise, Leonard Sachs is not ideally cast as The Sheriff of Nottingham, lacking both the authoritative air and any real sense of menace to make a truly memorable villain.

The best performances are to be found in the supporting cast. Maid Marian is inexplicably missing from The Men of Sherwood Forest; her replacement here is Lady Alys in a nice performance by Eileen Moore. A loyal ally to Robin, she holds her own with the best of the Merrie Men, but there is no romance between the two. Robin’s most significant relationship here is with Friar Tuck. As the wily man of the cloth cum con artist Reginald Beckwith gives a marvellous comic performance which is arguably the movie's highlight.  

There are slicker swashbucklers than this; The Adventures of Robin Hood (Michael Curtis, 1938) is still the definitive cinematic take on the legend and star Errol Flynn the definitive Robin. Yet, while The Men of Sherwood Forest is no masterpiece, as an example of the sort of boys own adventure that once filled matinees, it is invaluable. Cheap and cheerful maybe, but also engagingly innocent, old fashioned fun. 

Murder at the Gallop (1963)

Murder at the Gallop (Dir: George Pollock, 1963).

Following the success of Murder She Said (George Pollock, 1961) aging amateur detective Miss Marple returns to investigate the death of the elderly Mr Enderby, supposedly frightened to death by a cat. Eavesdropping at the reading of Enderby's will, where his estate is divided between four family members, Miss Marple's suspicions are confirmed when the deceased's sister Cora suggests that the old man was murdered. When Miss Marple visits Cora to question her, she finds the sister too has been murdered. Deciding to investigate further, Miss Marple books herself a holiday at The Gallop Hotel and Riding School, an establishment run by Enderby's nephew Hector and the other surviving heirs.

The second of MGM’s Miss Marple movies was the first not to be based upon a Miss Marple novel. Rather, Murder at the Gallop is based upon Agatha Christie’s 1953 novel 'After the Funeral', which featured her other most famous creation, Belgian detective Hercule Poirot. 

Poirot is nowhere to be found in this adaptation in which he is supplanted by Margaret Rutherford’s bluffly brilliant interpretation of Miss Marple. Rutherford's real life husband Stringer Davis returns as loyal companion Mr Stringer, as does Charles Tingwell as the weary Inspector Craddock. Standout among the supporting cast is Robert Morley; his excellent comic turn as Hector Enderby threatens to steal the movie from Ms Rutherford. The quality cast also features neat performances from acting legends Flora Robson and Finlay Currie.

As with Murder She Said, the movie paints a picture of a quaint post-War Britain that never really existed and must have seemed archaic to audiences in the so-called 'swinging' sixties. But I feel this is kind of the point. The movie is very tongue-in-cheek and never takes itself too seriously; gently mocking genteel middle England, while at the same time romanticising it.

Again, this maybe not be an adaptation for Christie purists, but like the previous movie it is a lot of fun. There are some genuine moments of suspense amongst the jollity and Miss Marple even does the twist. What's not to love?

Murder She Said (1961)

Murder She Said (Dir: George Pollock, 1961).

The first in a series of four MGM-British murder mysteries staring the incomparable Margaret Rutherford as Agatha Christie’s amateur sleuth Miss Marple. 

Adapted from Christie's 1957 novel '4:50 from Paddington', Murder She Said sees Miss Marple witness a murder on a passing train. When the police won't listen to her, she takes matters into her own hands. Surmising that the body must have been deposited at the nearby Ackenthorpe Hall, she poses as a maid and finds employment at the stately home. Here she is perfectly placed to investigate the family and staff who would all appear to have motive for murder. Meanwhile the killer racks up a few more bodies.

This has to rank as among the most lighthearted Agatha Christie adaptations, taking a far more comedic approach than usual. Somewhat surprisingly Murder She Said is the only movie in MGM’s series that was actually based upon a Miss Marple novel; later movies either shoehorned the character into another Christie novel or were original works.

Christie was reportedly unhappy with the casting of Margaret Rutherford. In fairness her Miss Marple is nothing like the one in the novels, but she attacks the part with such gusto and good humour that it is hard not to love her in the role. An invention of the movie is Miss Marple’s loyal companion and romantic interest Mr Stringer, played by her real life husband Stringer Davis. This relationship is a nice addition to the story which also serves the practical purpose of allowing Miss Marple to convey some necessary exposition to the audience. 

Excellent support is offered, especially from James Robertson Justice as the bedridden family patriarch and keep an eye out for future Miss Marple Joan Hickson further down the cast.

In its depiction of a quaintly dated post-War Britain, Murder She Said seems both of its time and oddly timeless. Christie purists may carp that too many liberties are taken with the original text and no one would suggest that this is a definitive telling. But to criticise it as such would be kind of missing the point. Murder She Said is enormously entertaining with superb performances from some British acting legends. It is all very silly, but also very funny and with some genuine moments of suspense. An excellent, infectious score by Ron Goodwin adds to the fun.