March 2017


REVIEWED BY MICHAEL SHONK:


BRIGHT STAR. Syndicated, Frederic W. Ziv Company; September 24, 1951. Voice Cast: Irene Dunne as Susan Armstrong and Fred MacMurry as George Harvey. Announcer: Harry Von Zell.

   Syndication studio Frederic W. Ziv Company is best remembered for its several low budget syndicated TV series such as Sea Hunt and Highway Patrol. The company also had its successes in radio, and many of those series would continue their success in TV, shows such as Boston Blackie and The Cisco Kid.

   Despite the falling popularity of radio in the 1950s due to the rising interest in TV, Ziv found a way to convince famous movie stars to star in transcribed radio series. Their first success was with Humphrey Bogart and Lauren Bacall in Bold Venture (reviewed here and its TV version reviewed here ).

   Next Ziv convinced Irene Dunne and Fred MacMurray to star in the radio series Bright Star. This was Ziv’s first comedy. Unlike many other Ziv’s radio series, Bright Star apparently was never adapted for television.

   So how was Ziv able to convince such famous movie stars as Bogart, Bacall, Dunne and MacMurray to star in a weekly radio series? They gave them a huge amount of money.

   According to Broadcasting (August 13,1951) Dunne and MacMurray each were paid $300,000 for a 10 year radio contract with an opt-out clause after 52 episodes. Three episodes were taped each week with a budget of $12,500 per half-hour episode. Broadcasting claimed this was the second highest budget in radio next only to Bold Venture. Billboard (August 18, 1951) claimed Bright Star was higher than Bold Venture by $2,500.

   Both Broadcasting and Billboard reported writers were to include Milton Geiger, Carl Gass, and Richard Powell. Henry Hayward would direct. Broadcasting added that additional cast members would include Elvia Allman and Michael Miller.

   Bright Star was about the daily operation of the small town newspaper, the Hillsdale Morning Star. Susan Armstrong voiced by Irene Dunne was the paper’s publisher and editor. George Harvey voiced by Fred MacMurray was the paper’s top reporter. As required by romantic comedy rules the two constantly argued when not trying to romance the other.

      George and the Informer:

   George was getting increasing attention due to a series of articles he was writing exposing a mob leader. Susan began to worry when George refused to tell her his source.


   This was one of the better episodes but still far from great radio. The soft character humor ruled over any realism in the plots. Not surprisingly after fifty-two episodes were transcribed the two stars opted out of their contract and the series ended.

   According to Broadcasting (September 10. 1951) Ziv claimed Bright Star that was due to debut in two weeks had been sold in 183 cities including 21 of the 63 television cities in the United States. While not the success of Bold Venture, which was in 427 stations when it debuted in March 1951 (Broadcasting April 2, 1951), the transcribed episodes of Bright Star would remain on the air for years.

   It was the fifties and the networks were turning their attention from radio to television. As Billboard examined in its October 16, 1954 issue, this left the local radio stations searching for programming. Ziv’s transcribed radio series became popular with stations and local advertisers. Shows such as Bright Star would continue to air on the radio at least into the mid-50s.

MARGARET YORKE – Dead in the Morning. Patrick Grant #1. Geoffrey Bles Ltd, UK, hardcover, 1970. Bantam, US, paperback, 1982.

   A continuing character in many of Margaret Yorke’s early mysteries was Dr. Patrick Grant, an Oxford don, Dean of St. Marks. Some of the books have been published in this country. Some of the books have been published in this country by Walker [then others later in paperback by Bantam].

   The scene in Dead in the Morning, the first book in the series, however, is not academia at all. It’s between terms, and Dr. Grant is staying over with his sister, amusing himself in the meantime by snooping around for a mystery to solve. When the housekeeper of a neighboring family accidentally dies of barbiturate poisoning, his interests are piqued, to say the least.

   He plays the part of an interested bystander to the hilt — how the police stand for his interruptions and enthusiastic non-cooperation is impossible to fathom — and he glories in his role of benevolent meddler no end. He’s a likable fellow, mind you. His intentions, well, nothing could be finer, and they all seem to work out.

   The killer — for of course murder it is — fits the crime. Solid characterization means that the mystery can be seen through very early. The twist is so good, however, that if I’d have been wrong, I was going to use it in my own next novel, The writing, unfortunately, is only so-so.

— Reprinted from The MYSTERY FANcier, Vol. 4, No. 2, March-April 1980 (somewhat revised).


       The Patrick Grant series —

Dead in the Morning. Bles, 1970.
Silent Witness. Bles, 1972.
Grave Matters. Bles, 1973.
Mortal Remains. Bles, 1974.
Cast for Death. Hutchinson, 1976.

Hazel O’Connor is a British singer-songwriter and a sometimes actress. Breaking Glass, her first album, was released in 1980, and rose to #5 on the UK charts:

REVIEWED BY JONATHAN LEWIS:


THE LAST TRAIN FROM MADRID. Paramount Pictures, 1937. Dorothy Lamour, Lew Ayres, Gilbert Roland, Karen Morley, Lionel Atwill, Helen Mack, Robert Cummings, Olympe Bradna, Anthony Quinn, Lee Bowman. Director: James P. Hogan.

   Finally the train. Close to an hour into a movie with a running time just under ninety minutes, the audience finally gets to see the titular train. That’s pretty much my first and greatest impression of this rather slow moving and melodramatic movie about a disparate group of people attempting to obtain passes for the last train out of Madrid during the Spanish Civil War.

   There are a few subplots involving romance during wartime, and how a lifelong bond of friendship takes precedence over political affiliations. But overall, the film is a rather talky affair, all leading up to the final sequence in which some of the main characters finally do end up on a train for Valencia.

   What The Last Train from Madrid does have going for it is its exceptional cast. Gilbert Roland, in particular, is always a delight to see on screen. And, love him or hate him, there’s no denying that Lionel Atwill is a distinct presence in any movie that he appears in. (Although, Atwill as a Spanish Army officer? Not believable.)

   On the other hand, a young Anthony Quinn and an even younger looking Robert Cummings are quite convincing as Spanish soldiers.

   It’s just unfortunate that, with a cast like this, there isn’t enough action in this stagey production to keep the viewer particularly engaged throughout the proceedings.

GAR ANTHONY HAYWOOD – Not Long for This World. Aaron Gunner #2. St. Martin’s Press, hardcover, 1990. Penguin, paperback, 1991.

   In this, the second recorded case for L.A.-based private eye Aaron Gunner, he’s hired by the female defense attorney for a young South Central gang member accused of killing the black founder of the L. A. Peace Patrol — a mild-mannered man who had taken it upon himself to try to rein in gang-related violence in the city.

   It takes Gunner a while to decide to take the case, mostly because he doesn’t believe there is much redeeming value in the boy, but the conviction by his lawyer that he’s innocent eventually helps persuade him. It isn’t an easy case to investigate. All of the witnesses and other people he must ask questions of are either gangbangers themselves, or people intimidated by them.

   To my mind there might be more social significance to this tale if Gunner were a stronger character. Even once he’s taken the case, he’s never quite sure if he made the right choice, nor is he the kind of guy who’s always infallible. Not helping matters is that the story is told in what I’ve decided to call the “impersonal third person” mode. Every so often, Gunner is referred to only as “the investigator,” not a description designed to give the reader a lot of confidence in his abilities.

   I’m also not a fan of PI’s going to bed with the dead man’s widow while on the case. Which is a complicated one in many ways, but not in one essential way: I believe the real villain is discernible immediately, once he (or she) steps onto the stage.

   Overall, then: quite readable, but flawed.

      The Aaron Gunner series —

Fear of the Dark (1988)
Not Long for This World (1990)
You Can Die Trying (1993)
It’s Not a Pretty Sight (1996)
When Last Seen Alive (1997)
All the Lucky Ones Are Dead (1999)

SELECTED BY JONATHAN LEWIS:


MANLY WADE WELLMAN “Ever the Faith Endures.” First published in The Year’s Best Horror Stories: Series VI, edited by Gerald W. Page (Daw #297, paperback original; 1st printing, 1978). Collected in The Devil is Not Mocked and Other Warnings (Night Shade Books, hardcover, 2001).

   I love this type of atmospheric horror story. One in which a man goes in search of his roots in either the United Kingdom or New England and discovers some shocking family secret. That, or something far more sinister, ones in which a sense of slowly creeping dread permeates the entire story.

   Such is the case in Manly Wade Wellman’s “Ever the Faith Endures.” From the title, one might expect that the faith references would be Christianity. But let me assure you: that is far from the case. The faith that plays such an important role in the story is a pagan one. Specifically, the worship of the god Baal. The connection between that old god and the story’s protagonist becomes evident soon enough, particularly because his name is Wofford Belson. His original family name back in England was Belstone. As in Baal’s stone. You see where this might be going.

   Not only does the story tie in Wofford Belson’s quest to learn about his family’s distant past and to visit their original home back in England (Belson is an American), it also brings him face to face with a long distant cousin. She’s nice enough, and Belson takes an immediate liking to her. But she’s adamant that she can’t leave England and return to the States with him. You see, she’s been tasked with guarding something inside the Belstone estate. Something grotesquely evil. A being that could just as easily come straight from the imagination of one H. P. Lovecraft.

   Recommended.

A 1001 MIDNIGHTS Review
by Kathleen L. Maio


RICK BOYER – Billingsgate Shoal. Doc Adams #1. Houghton Miff|in, hardcover, 1982. Warner Books, paperback, 1985; Fawcett, paperback, 1989.

   Rick Boyer won an Edgar for this, his first mystery novel — deserved recognition for a complex suspense novel set in coastal and suburban Massachusetts.

   Charles (“Doc”) Adams is a medical doctor turned oral surgeon. He is middle-aged, affluent, happily married, and intensely dissatisfied with his life. His depression and insomnia are symptoms of his mid-life crisis. The cure is worse than the disease, however, as Doc is thrown headlong into a very violent adventure. It starts with an early-morning sighting of a stranded fishing vessel on the title shoal, continues with the death of a young scuba diver who tries to check out the boat for Adams, and eventually escalates to a kill-or-die confrontation between Doc and the villains.

   Billingsgate Shoal has a little bit of everything for everybody. There is hidden treasure, political intrigue, and a murder mystery. There is even a good deal of gore for those who like their thrillers tough and bloody. But it is the believable and very personable voice of Boyer’s amateur sleuth that makes even the more outrageous elements of his plot come together in a way that seems realistic and truly suspenseful.

   Boyer’s second novel, The Penny Ferry (1984), a case focusing on present-day evidence of the guilt/innocence of Sacco and Vanzetti, is proof that Boyer’s talents are substantial and that Doc Adams has staying power as series sleuth.

         ———
   Reprinted with permission from 1001 Midnights, edited by Bill Pronzini & Marcia Muller and published by The Battered Silicon Dispatch Box, 2007.   Copyright © 1986, 2007 by the Pronzini-Muller Family Trust.

       The Doc Adams series —

Billingsgate Shoal (1982)
The Penny Ferry (1984)

The Daisy Ducks (1986)
Moscow Metal (1987)
The Whale’s Footprints (1988)

Gone to Earth (1990)
Yellow Bird (1991)
Pirate Trade (1994)
The Man Who Whispered (1998)

REVIEWED BY BARRY GARDNER:


DEBORAH CROMBIE – All Shall Be Well. Duncan Kincaid & Gemma James #2. Charles Scribner’s Sons, hardcover, 1994. Paperback reprints: Berkley, 1995; Avon, 2004.

   I thought that Crombie’s first novel, last year’s A Share in Death [reviewed here ], was one of the better debuts of late; nothing compelling but a well-crafted and enjoyable book.

   Superintendent Duncan Kincaid has a home life, too, and it’s is about to intersect with his profession. The lady upstairs has been dying of cancer, and now he and her companion have found her dead. As she had previously hinted at suicide, an autopsy and inquest were necessary. She died of an overdose of morphine, and while most think it suicide, Kincaid thinks he knew the lady too well and doesn’t believe it.

   That leaves murder as the only alternative, so he and his trusty Sergeant, Gemma James, begin to investigate. Suspects include the companion (who is a major beneficiary of the will) and/or her avaricious lover, a weak and ne’er-do-well brother, and the visiting nurse.

   Once again I think the American Crombie has done a very good job of writing a British mystery. Her leads are likable and realistic, more so even than in the first book. The players in the mystery are also well done, believable and not stock. Crombie tells her story from shifting viewpoints in pleasant, unobtrusive prose, and paces it well.

   Her books haven’t the hard edge of, say, McGown or Fyfield, nor are they filled with the angst-ridden, unlikable people of Rendell or George, but they aren’t particularly cozy, either. They are well written examples of a traditional type, and I like them.

— Reprinted from Ah Sweet Mysteries #11, January 1994.

THREE DAYS OF THE CONDOR. Paramount Pictures, 1975. Robert Redford, Faye Dunaway, Cliff Robertson, Max von Sydow, John Houseman, Addison Powell. Screenplay: Lorenzo Semple Jr. & David Rayfiel, based on the novel Six Days of the Condor, by James Grady. Director: Sydney Pollack.

   This is a movie that for some unaccountable reason I’ve missed seeing until now. I regret that. This is a good one. Robert Redford has played a good many roles over the years, but as Joseph Turner, a bookish low-grade employee of the CIA (code name Condor), he is without a doubt a character he was meant to play.

   Outwardly working for an obscure corner of the world called the American Literary Historical Society in downtown Manhattan, he ducks out the back way one rainy lunchtime to get sandwiches for everyone, only to return and find everyone shot and killed at their desks. What to do? Call his superior and ask to be called in, of course.

   This turns out to be more easily said than done. He quickly discovers that whoever was responsible for the slaughter at his normally stodgy workplace wants him dead as well — and he has no idea who that might be. Who can he trust? No one.

   Along the way he carjacks a young woman, Kathy Hale by name and a photographer by trade, at gunpoint. She is played by Faye Dunaway, perhaps one of a handful of actresses at the time who could manage not to be totally outshone om the screen by Redford’s boyishly handsome charisma. Kathy is naturally very reluctant to believe Turner’s story, but as in all movies like this, she gradually comes around.

   I loved the first half of this movie. When it comes to unraveling the secrets of the inner workings of the CIA, I was less enamored, but that like comparing an “A plus” to an “A,” and I am not grading on the curve.

   Cliff Robertson, as Turner’s immediate superior, gets to play Cliff Robertson, which he does very well, as usual. The standout performance in the second half is Max von Sydow, who plays a wonderfully cosmopolitan hitman who plays for whichever side is paying him at the time, at the same time giving young Turner an insider’s look at the world he was quite happily unaware of before.

   The film is beautifully photographed, the story holds together, and the performances are terrific. What more could you ask?

LESLEY EGAN – Motive in Shadow. Jesse Falkenstein #10. Doubleday Crime Club, hardcover, 1980. No US paperback edition.

   As a series character, lawyer Jesse Falkenstein has been around for quite a while. He’s not as well-known to mystery fans as Perry Mason, say, at least not yet, and he probably never will be, but the reason I find both their kinds of adventures so enjoyable is undoubtedly because their crime-solving activities both so closely parallel that of a good private eye (L.A. scene, of course.)

   Not for them the seat-numbing sort of drudgery that most legal work must actually be. Unlike the previously mentioned Mr. Mason, however, Falkenstein always seems to be doing his own legwork, and hardly ever does he have to show up n court at all.

   In this case he’s hired to contest a will, that of an old woman who’s disinheriting her own son from his own business. And this is where the legwork comes in. Uprooting the past — a 50-year-old diary proves most illuminating — coming up with blackmail — but for what crime or minor offense against person or state? — and recreating the laughter and sadness of people and secrets long since buried.

   As a mystery novel, this is a warmly nostalgic piece of writing, one surprisingly almost totally non-violent. As a puzzle in detection, here’s one that’s quite genuinely fascinating all the way through.

— Reprinted from The MYSTERY FANcier, Vol. 4, No. 2, March-April 1980.


Bibliographic Notes:   There were in all twelve recorded adventures of Jesse Falkenstein. Lesley Egan was but one of Elizabeth Linington’s pen names, others being Anne Blaisdell, Egan O’Neill and Dell Shannon. Another series character who appeared under the Egan byline was Vic Varallo, described on one website as “a small-town cop who moves to Glendale, California.” Varallo appeared in thirteen novels, one a crossover case with Falkenstein.

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