CURT SIODMAK – Whomsoever I Shall Kiss. Crown Publishers, hardcover, 1952. Paperback reprint: Dell 756, 1954.

   Quite without meaning to, I read two novels of Romantic Suspense last year. Curt Siodmak’s Whomsoever I Shall Kiss was the first, and it starts off well, with Royal Ludovici, a former small-time grifter and guy-with-a-funny-name, who lives by making himself useful to the very rich.

   In Italy to find proof of an heiress’s death (and thereby speed an inheritance to a distant relation), Royal finds the heiress very much alive and maybe suffering from amnesia … or maybe not.

   Well, Royal is suave, good-looking and unattached, the heiress is lovely, lonely and broken-hearted, so the only question for Royal is whether to get her to marry him, then tell her she’s wealthy, or to make sure that reports of her death weren’t so far wrong after all.

   It’s a nice set-up for a story, and I expected to see something interesting spun out of it by a hack with Siodmak’s credentials, but he doesn’t do much with it; in fact, he does practically nothing at all. Pages go by filled with sight-seeing, passionate embraces, tearful farewells, torrid embraces and even a bit from The Wolfman, all to very little effect. By the time Siodmak tacked an unsatisfactory ending on, I wasn’t even interested enough to be disappointed.

ANDREW GARVE – A Hole in the Ground. Dell, paperback reprint D275, 1959; Great Mystery Library #21. UK edition: Collins Crime club, hardcover, 1952. US First Edition: Harper & Brothers, 1952. Also: Pan #343, UK, pb, 1955; Lancer 72-730, US, pb, 1964.

   I’d read quite a few of Andrew Garve’s novels, but I never heard of this one until I came across it on a sidewalk table at Barnes and Noble’s.

   Laurence Quilter is the Labour Party Member of Parliament for the area around the town of Blean in West Cumbria. He has a wealthy background and a wife named Jane. They have recently donated his family’s large house to the National trust and moved into a cottage on the estate and he is up for re-election. He is bitterly disappointed that he has never been given a position in the ruling Labour Party’s government.

   While looking through some old papers from his donated house, he comes across a crude map made by his great grandfather nearly a century before. It seems to indicate that somewhere on his land is the entrance to a large cave his ancestor discovered but didn’t make public.

   While his wife is away visiting friends, he discovers the entrance to the cave and decides to contact a young School Master/ spelunker he knows named Peter Antsley. They explore the cave and find an underground river some 200+ feet below ground reached by going down rope ladders.

   On their second trip, Quilter takes a nap while Antsley does some exploring on his own. Outside, a storm rages which causes the underground river to flood and when Antsley’s foot gets caught and he calls for help, Quilter is too afraid to help him and Antsley drowns.

   Quilter decides to cover up his cowardice and tell no one. He takes his wife on vacation to France but when there is a mining accident in his district, he returns home leaving her. While in France they had meet Ben Traill, an American geologist who works for an oil company.

   With Quilter in England, Jane and Ben spend so much time together that they fall in love. Finally, Jane decides to go home to confront her husband and from there, during the last 30 pages or so, the story takes a turn into left field.

   You might think that Quilter has been spending his time further covering up Antsley’s death, even though the dead man’s wallet has been found and the police know that Antsley had been in touch with Quilter shortly before he disappeared, but that isn’t the case at all.

   Let’s just say there’s an unnamed reference to a well-known British spy case that first hit the headlines circa 1950 and, though Garve didn’t know it at the time, the case would return two more times to the headlines in the ensuing decades.

   I don’t know if Garve wrote himself into a corner and came up with this lollapoloosa of an ending to get out or what. All I know is that this is the poorest book by Garve I’ve read. Fortunately, he went on to write much better stuff.

“Don’t Look Behind You.” An episode of The Alfred Hitchcock Hour (Season 1, Episode 2). First air date: 27 September 1962. Jeffrey Hunter, Vera Miles, Abraham Sofaer, Dick Sargent, Alf Kjellin, Ralph Roberts, Mary Scott, Madge Kennedy. Teleplay:
Barré Lyndon, based on a novel by Samuel Rogers. Director: John Brahm.

   Daphne (Vera Miles) is late for a dinner date and, like Little Red Riding Hood, decides to take a shortcut through the woods, which almost proves fatal because a serial killer is stalking her.

   She does make it unmolested, however. Within the next few minutes after her arrival, no fewer than four men show up at the party. She doesn’t know it at the time, but one of the four has already committed murder and another one will soon be making an attempt on her life…

   Maybe it’s just me, but this one doesn’t quite gel. True, the characters’ intentions are adequately foreshadowed, but the whole thing seems wonky and unconvincing.

   Vera Miles’ criminous credits include 23 Paces to Baker Street (1956), The Wrong Man (1956), Psycho (1960), three appearances on The Name of the Game, one on the Jim Hutton Ellery Queen, and three episodes of Murder, She Wrote.

   Jeffrey Hunter appeared in Fourteen Hours (1951), A Kiss Before Dying (1956), Key Witness (1960), Man-Trap (1960), and 26 episodes of the Temple Houston TV series (1963-64).

Hulu: http://www.imdb.com/video/hulu/vi685244441/

Editorial Comment: The pilot for the Temple Houston TV was titled The Man from Galveston (1963) and was considered so well done that it was released theatrically. David Vineyard reviewed it here on the blog last July.

DRACULA, PRINCE OF DARKNESS. Seven Arts / Hammer Films, 1966. Christopher Lee, Barbara Shelley, Andrew Keir, Francis Matthews, Suzan Farmer, Charles Tingwell, Thorley Walters, Philip Latham. Screenwriter: Jimmy Sangster. Director: Terence Fisher.

   Although there were, I believe, other Dracula films in between, Prince of Darkness is the one that’s a direct sequel to The Horror of Dracula (1958), also with Christopher Lee as Count Dracula, and one of the films that put Hammer Films on the map.

   The means by which Dracula is brought back to life is one of the key scenes in this second movie, and so while I of course will say no more about it, it is (no surprise) rather a gruesome one. There are two scenes which caused a shiver down my back, and one of them is the one that occurs soon afterward, as an unwary character in the story stumbles across the scene.

   And Dracula’s first appearance in the flesh (so to speak) was the other. Christopher Lee doesn’t get a lot a screen time himself, surprisingly enough, and no dialogue (only hissing, I believe), but seeing him quietly appear in the shadows as he does for the first time is enough to make anyone jump.

   Unfortunately, this is also one of movies in which the participants are warned, and explicitly so by the no-nonsense Father Sandor (Andrew Keir), to stay away from the castle, but do they listen? You needn’t ask. So that I found disappointing, and after his grand plan to rescue himself from oblivion succeeds in such fine fashion (and in this I am not exaggerating), he seems to flail around rather ineffectively thereafter.

   As a vampire hunter, Father Sandor is both a realist in terms of the evil he’s facing as well as an implacable foe, and I think this makes Andrew Keir, a giant of a man himself, the star of the movie.

   Following immediately after the events chronicled in Prince of Darkness came Dracula Has Risen From The Grave (1968), a movie I saw about a year or so ago. For some reason, I do not seem to have written a review of it, but I recall it as having more plot to it than this one.

   This one, though, most reviewers seem to regard as a classic. It’s good but not that good, if you were to ask me, and there is of course no reason that you should. If you’re a fan of horror films, you’ll have seen this one already, and you’ll already have formed your own opinion.

PAID TO LOVE. Fox, 1927. George O’Brien, Virginia Valli, J. Farrell MacDonald, William Powell, Thomas Jefferson, Hank Mann. Photography: L. William O’Connell; director: Howard Hawks. Shown at Cinecon 45, Hollywood CA, September 2009.

   J. Farrell MacDonald, an American banker, travels to a small Balkan kingdom for the purpose of making a financial investment to shore up the country’s faltering economy.

   He becomes chummy with the king (Thomas Jefferson) and they plot to marry off Crown Prince Michael (O’Brien), who seems unwilling to settle down.

   Their bait is Gaby, a cabaret dancer (beautiful Virginia Valli), but the machinations of Michael’s cousin (William Powell) threaten to thwart the pair’s plans and break up the budding relationship.

   Hawks was quoted in the program notes by his biographer (Todd McCarthy) as saying that he was influenced by German Expressionist director F. W. Murnau in his tracking shots, lighting and editing.

   It’s certainly an elegant, stylish film, with the expected polished performance by Powell, engaging characterizations by MacDonald and Jefferson, and an attractive portrayal of the developing romance by the forthright O’Brien and sultry Valli.

H. W. RODEN – You Only Hang Once. William Morrow, hardcover, 1944. Hardcover reprint: Detective Book Club, 3-in-1 edition, April 1944. Paperback: Dell #104, mapback edition, 1945.

   Another case here for the lack of talents of Sid Ames, private eye. When Johnny Knight, public-relations man, finds a dead lawyer in his office, he calls on Ames.

   Things don’t work out too well with Ames in charge. Later, when Ames and Knight are at a gambling joint where peril looms, Ames proceeds to get drunk and pass out.

   At a meeting with most of the suspects in the lawyer’s murder, Ames gets a message from his office, which his secretary tells to the butler so all can hear. Just in case the possible murderer might have missed something or been slow on the uptake, Knight, a runner-up to Ames in stupidity, reveals that the message was from the deceased lawyer’s paramour. Ames and Knight then deliberately dawdle before going to see the woman. Imagine their surprise to find that someone has strangled her.

   The novel would be funny if it were only humorous.

Bibliographic information:     [Expanded from the Revised Crime Fiction IV, by Allen J. Hubin] —

    RODEN, H(enry) W(isdom). 1895-1963. JK= Johnny Knight, SA = Sid Ames.

    You Only Hang Once (n.) Morrow 1944. Dell #104. JK, SA
    Too Busy to Die (n.) Morrow 1944. Dell #185. JK, SA

    One Angel Less (n.) Morrow 1945. Dell #247. SA

    Wake for a Lady (n.) Morrow 1946. Dell #345. JK, SA

“That Time in Havana.”   An episode of Kraft Suspense Theatre (Season 2, Episode 14). First air date: 11 February 1965. Steve Forrest, Dana Wynter, Victor Jory, Frank Silvera, Val Avery. Teleplay: William Wood. Story: Irving Gaynor Neiman. Director: Alex March.

   It’s been six years since Castro’s revolution took over Cuba. An American woman, Anne Palmer (Dana Wynter), has come to Havana to plead for her husband, who has been imprisoned for being a spy against Fidel. But El Jefe won’t see her, and she’s forced to deal with a lower-level functionary, Colonel Velasquez (Val Avery), who seems only to want to molest her. She gets nowhere.

   Until she meets Mike Taggart (Steve Forrest), a journalist; with him she’s able to turn up some unpleasant facts about her husband, including that million dollars her husband was trying to retrieve for the Mob when he was arrested. It seems Anne didn’t know the man she married as well as she thought she did…

   Despite the title, “That Time in Havana” isn’t a light-hearted caper film, although it could have been played that way, from which it would have greatly benefited. It mostly reminds me of two Humphrey Bogart films: Casablanca (1942) and To Have and Have Not (1944).

   In both of those, Bogie spends a lot of time being — or pretending to be — uninvolved with the political turmoil swirling around him; similarly, Dana Wynter’s character cares only about her husband’s plight and is indifferent to politics until she has to make a decision near the end of the story that has political ramifications.

   He-man actor Steve Forrest has had a long career. Criminous credits include: Phantom of the Rue Morgue (1954), Rogue Cop (1954), three episodes of The Name of the Game (1969-70), four episodes of Gunsmoke, 36 episodes of S.W.A.T. (1975-76), 15 episodes of Dallas (1986), five appearances on Murder, She Wrote, and 3 on Team Knight Rider (1997-98).

   Dana Wynter has the distinction of appearing in one episode of the Colonel March of Scotland Yard TV series (1956, under her German birth name, Dagmar Wynter), the sci-fi thriller Invasion of the Body Snatchers (1956), The List of Adrian Messenger (1963), one episode of The Wild Wild West (1966), a regular role in the nearly-forgotten spy series The Man Who Never Was (18 episodes, 1966-67), five episodes of The F.B.I., three appearances on Cannon (1973-75), and as Mrs. Ironside in the TV movie The Return of Ironside(1993).

EAST OF SUMATRA. Universal, 1954. Jeff Chandler, Marilyn Maxwell, Anthony Quinn, Suzan Ball, John Sutton, J.C. Flippen, Peter Graves, Scat Man Crothers, James Craven. Screenplay: Frank Gill Jr., based on a story co-authored by Louis L’Amour. Director: Budd Boetticher.

   Here’s a well done pulp-style jungle adventure from action director Budd Boetticher and based on a story by western writer king Louis L’Amour.

   Jeff Chandler is a two-fisted mining engineer whose team is sent to the Maylayan jungle to find tin and runs afoul of local royal Quinn who is jealous of his half caste fiance’s (Ball) interest in Jeff. An added complication is Chandler’s officious boss John Sutton, who is engaged to marry Marilyn Maxwell, Jeff’s ex girl.

   Things go wrong, and soon Chandler and team are held virtual prisoner by Quinn and his men,and their only means of escape is by hand-to-hand combat to the death in a native temple between Chandler and Quinn.

   Attractively filmed by Boetticher, East of Sumatra is a mix of adventure pulp and Men’s Sweat Mag brought to life (“I Fought a Sumatran King for His Woman and a Fortune in Tin”).

   The characters are familiar stereotypes — Chandler the two-fisted boss; Flippen the older veteran straw boss; Graves a Texan engineer in ten gallon hat; Crothers the singing camp cook; Quinn the proud jealous native king; Sutton the boss that doesn’t understand the real world of the field men; Maxwell the bad girl trying to forget her past and rough tough Chandler; Suzan Ball a sultry half white princess torn between jungle king Quinn and handsome westerner Chandler…

   Technicolor, well done jungle sets, some nice matte paintings, a good if predictable script, and a competent cast of veterans show how well this sort of thing could be done in the right hands.

   Nothing great, but a showcase of old fashioned studio competence done neatly and with a bit of flare, and the battle between Chandler and Quinn is well matched and handled in a circle of torchlight.

   These kinds of films used to be a staple in theaters. Minor A films churned out by competent directors and featuring attractive casts who hit their marks and generally were better than the material.

   It’s the sort of thing Hollywood relegated to television eventually but is seldom done as well today, and if it isn’t art, it is at least entertainment and done with some style.

Editorial Comments:   That’s Suzan Ball in the dancing girl costume in the photo just above. She was a second cousin of Lucille Ball who had the sad misfortune of dying young, at the age of 21, a victim of cancer. Married to actor Richard Long when she died, she appeared in only eight films and one episode of Lux Video Theater before her death.

   On another matter, both David and I have been trying to learn whether the story this movie was based ever appeared in printed form, with no definitive answer so far. We presume the answer is no, but does anyone know for sure?

JOHN LOCKE, Editor – City of Numbered Men: The Best of Prison Stories.

Off-Trail Publications, trade paperback; 1st printing, January 2010.

   Back in the 1960’s and 1970’s it was actually possible to find and build up extensive collections of many rare pulp titles. Most readers and collectors were aware of only the SF pulps (and pulps which printed early SF like Argosy and All Story), and the hero pulps like The Shadow, Doc Savage, G-8, The Spider, etc.

   There wasn’t a lot of competition for other pulps back then, and I managed to find many of the Harold Hersey magazines not many other collectors were looking for — magazines such as Ace-High, Cowboy Stories, Danger Trail, and of course one of the most fascinating titles, Prison Stories.

   Now of course it is very hard indeed to find such rare pulps as Danger Trail and Prison Stories. But we are fortunately living in the age of print on demand reprint collections. Now within a matter of weeks, it is possible to publish a collection of pulp stories with all sorts of interesting editorial comments in the form of original research articles.

   Another example of this trend is a new book which I have just received in the mail from John Locke, publisher of Off-Trail Publications, a pulp reprint line of books. The title is City of Numbered Man: The Best of Prison Stories. It is a very handsome large paperbound volume of 274 pages, priced at $20.00.

   You may order it from amazon.com, Adventure House, or Mike Chomko Books. It also is available from John Locke directly using Paypal by contacting directly at offtrail@redshift. com.

   The book consists of 12 stories reprinted from Prison Stories, all dating from 1930 to 1931, including a long novelet “Big House Boomerang.” These stories alone would make the collection a must buy, but there also is a 15 page article about the history of the magazine entitled “Imprisoned Pulp,” by John Locke.

   John has also included a 34 page biography, “Harold Hersey: Tales of an Ink-Stained Wretch,” and in addition, we have 7 pages of notes on the authors, an index, and 20 pages of letters from ex-cons and lovers of prison fiction, reprinted from the crumbling pages of the magazine itself.

   I repeat, if you are a lover of pulp fiction, then this is a must have volume. John Locke has done around 20 of these reprint books and we need to show our support so that he will continue this worthy cause. This book gets my highest recommendation.

JONATHAN LATIMER – The Lady in the Morgue. Doubleday Crime Club, hardcover, 1936. Paperback reprints include: Pocket Books #246, 1943; Dell, Great Mystery Library, 1957; International Polygonics, 1988. Film: Universal, 1938, with Preston Foster as PI Bill Crane.

   With its suggestions of necrophilia and glimpses of female bondage and nudity, as well as explicit racism on the part of the “sympathetic” characters, torture, grave-robbing and non-stop drinking, Jonathan Latimer’s The Lady in the Morgue is a rather spicy and unpleasant mystery tale for 1936 (or any other year, really!).

   I find it interesting that the explicit depiction of sex acts between LIVE people was verboten, but frank discussion about the physical allurements of female corpses evidently made the grade!

   Latimer is often paired with Craig Rice as a “zany” hardboiled writer of the period, but I would say Rice is the more simply zany of the two, while Latimer is much more hardboiled.

   The humor in this novel is black indeed, having been filtered, surely, through earlier works like William Faulkner’s Sanctuary. The lead detectives are an exceedingly callous group of individuals. There is also an unpleasant racist edge in their treatment of blacks, Filipinos and Italians (though I have to admit the “game” played in the morgue had its lurid fascination).

   Certainly this novel is a long way from modern “political correctness” (I doubt for that matter that it was politically correct in 1936).

   Buried in all this sensation is a quite solid mystery plot, one that would be at home in a classic British tale, revolving around a female suicide’s corpse stolen from the city morgue that becomes the target of interest of the cops, the detectives, a snobbish old-money family and two rival gangsters.

   If you can stomach all the grand guignol stuff, you should enjoy The Lady in the Morgue for its undeniable inventiveness. And if you enjoy very spicy narratives you have a definite barnburner on your hands!

Editorial Comment:   For a long insightful essay by John Fraser on Jonathan Latimer and his mystery fiction, plus a complete bibliography compiled by myself, go here on the main Mystery*File website.