BATMAN AND ROBIN “The Riddler.†First published in Detective Comics #140, October 1948. Facsimile edition: DC Comics, December 2023. Writer: Bill Finger. Penciler: Dick Sprang.
I don’t know how many facsimile editions such as this that DC Comics has published – and if anyone can tell me where/how to find out, I’d really like to know – but let me tell you right now and up front, I think it’s a great idea, and I hope they’re making a lot of money at it.
As far as I can tell, there’s only a couple of tiny places in the reprint edition of Detective Comics #140 differs from the original. One’s the price, as indicated on the front cover. In 1948, it was Ten Cents. Here and now in 2023, it’s $4.99. Taking inflation into account, I think today’s price is an out-and-out bargain.
The other difference is the indicia – the small fine print at the bottom of the first page that describes the publishing info for the comic, all nicely updated for the newer version. The paper and coloring seems nicer too, but the only way to be certain about that is to go back to 1948 and buy a copy fresh off the newsstand, You’d need a time travel machine to start with, and then a slim Mercury (?) dime. (I’ll furnish the dime.)
The reason for reprinting this particular issue didn’t make any big impression at the time, I’m sure, but it was the very first appearance of one of Batman’s favorite longstanding villains – well, a favorite of Batman’s fans, but perhaps not Batman himself – the Riddler. The latter’s real name was Edward Nigma (I’ll let you work that one out for yourself), and as this story relates it, the soon-to-be villain grew up as a schoolboy who loved puzzles of all kinds – well, so did I, but young Nigma cheated at doing them.
When older, he became one of those guys who constantly challenged Batman to decipher a riddle or rebus which when unclued would tell the latter where and when the former’s next robbery or holdup would take place.
All of the Riddler’s storylines were clever and a lot of fun to read. The artwork is still cartoony – but not overpoweringly so. I would like to think that both scriptwriter Bill Finger and artist Dick Sprang are in a comic book Hall of Fame. If not, they should be.
Other stories in this issue:
Robotman: “Robotman’s Double Trouble”
Slam Bradley: “Dog for a Day”
Boy Commandos: “The Dictator from Alcatraz”
I no longer buy Ellery Queen Mystery Magazine on a regular basis, but I’m glad I did when I spotted the November-December issue at a local Barnes & Noble this past week.
The “Blog Bytes†column, which was presided over by the late and greatly missed Bill Crider for much of its early existence, is now written by Kristopher Zgorski, whom I do not know, but of three mystery-oriented blogs he covers in this issue, plus one YouTube channel, he had this to say about the one you are currently reading:
“Mystery*File in various different formats has been run by Steve Lewis since the seventies, so in terms of longevity, this one is hard to beat. The blog itself is a more recent development but remains an important resource. Like the other entries in this month’s Blog Bytes column, Mystery*File is focused on the past, helping readers to understand how crime fiction has morphed over the years. Readers will constantly find new content on this site – mostly informed and well-written reviews of books, movies and television shows by a collection of consistent reviewers including Steve’s son Jonathan. The tab called Links alone can consume hours of a visitor’s time, including a resource that leads fans to many other sites of interest.â€
And if this blog manages to live up to those very kind words, may I add a huge thank you to all of the contributors and commenters to M*F, as well as all of you who keep coming back on a regular basis, I really do appreciate it. I couldn’t do it without you!
PASSAGE FROM HONG KONG. Warner Brothers, 1941. Lucile Fairbanks, Douglas Kennedy (as Keith Douglas), Paul Cavanagh, Richard Ainley, Marjorie Gateson, Gloria Holden, William Hopper (uncredited, as a worker at the US Consulate). Based on the novel The Agony Column, by Earl Derr Biggers. Director: D. Ross Lederman.
Passage from Hong Kong takes place before the war and as foreign nationals are warned to leave Hong Kong. Finding a ship that will take them out of harm’s way is a problem, though, but in the chaos a young man (Douglas Kennedy) meets a young girl (Lucille Fairbanks) who catches his eye. She is traveling with her aunt (Marjorie Gateson) who disapproves of him.
Not knowing the young lady’s name, the young man resorts to a local newspaper’s classified ads section. She responds, but playing it coy, she asks him to write her five letters first before she will decide to meet him or not.
We do not know this until later, but the young man is a writer of thriller novels, and following the old adage of “write what you know,†the letters he sends her are a series of chapter installments of an serious scrape he gets into involving both murder and international intrigue.
It’s all totally fictitious, of course, but the story he tells her, to get into her good graces, as well as her aunt’s, is dramatized for us on the screen, making this a full-fledged adventure film as well as a romance, with a considerable amount of frothy comedy thrown in to boot.
The Agony Column, the story by Earl Derr Biggers that the movie is based on, takes place in England before World War I, but as in the film, the communications between two would-be lovers takes place through a series of a newspaper’s “agony column,†so there is some similarity. (I’ve not read the book. I’m only stating what I found out about it online.)
The movie is no classic, far from it. Once watched, quickly forgotten, the players as well as the story line. Especially the story line.
ERLE STANLEY GARDNER – The Case of the Queenly Contestant. Perry Mason #78. William Morrow, hardcover, 1967. Pocket, paperback, 1968. Several later reprint editions, both hardcover and paperback.
Not all of Perry Mason’s cases start the way this one does, but it’s the most common one, the most traditional way: with a client stopping by his office with an interesting story to tell. Perry is the kind of guy who thrives on interesting cases. Mundane legal work? You can forget it, whenever he’s given the opportunity.
In this case the client is female, in her 30s perhaps, and what she would like Perry to do is to squash a newspaper story about her. She lives and works in L.A. now, but she came there from a small town in the Midwest with stars in her eyes, having won a beauty contest in which one of the prizes was a Hollywood screen test. Which was totally perfunctory, at best, but she never went back home again.
Now the local back home newspaper is about to do one of those “where is she now†stories on her, and she wants no part of it. Perry takes the job, calls the editor and gets the story killed. End of story? By no means – but you knew that. There’s a lot more, as Perry soon learns.
And what he has on his hands is the kind of client he likes least: one who consistently lies to him. And one who fires him, and one who comes crawling back when she realizes she can’t handle things on her own.
There is a murder, one that happens in due course. The dead woman, as it turns out, has made blackmail her career of choice, but in spite of her many victims, it is Perry’s client who is arrested. The case against her involves tire tracks from her car found in a muddy driveway; two guns, one of which fired the fatal shot; and a two million dollar estate at stake, complicated by Perry not trusting anything his client has told him.
The courtroom scenes that follow take up a good chunk of the book, which is always a good sign, but it’s not Hamilton Burger who presents the case to the judge, but one of his assistants. No matter. The man doesn’t fare any better than his boss ever does, and why else did so many people read all those Perry Mason cases over the years?
VAL LEWTON – No Bed of Her Own. Vanguard Press, hardcover, 1932. Novel Library #39, paperback, 194?. Kingly Reprieve, UK, softcover, 2006. Filmed as No Man of Her Own starring Clark Gable and Carole Lombard in 1932.
Rose Mahoney is a single, good-looking stenographer in NYC in the early 1930’s.
Then the Depression hits. She gets laid off, can’t find another job, loses her apartment, and has nowhere to go.
She couch-surfs with some girlfriends that dance at the dancing halls, supplementing their income by letting ardent dancing partners take them home.
And then, after a couple of years of this, sleeping around, eating when she can, relying on the kindness of strangers, the depression ends and she finds a new job.
The End. But for the last chapter.
Pretty boring stuff. And light. She never really suffers, and her sexual escapades are never described except in the most conclusory, non-descriptive ways. She never goes particularly hungry, never has to sleep on the streets, never streetwalks. It’s really not all that bad. And everyone she meets is kind and helpful in a Leave It to Beaver kind of way. No one takes advantage of her, and anyone who tries she’s able to easily fight off if she’s not in the mood.
So yeah. Really tame stuff. Not much of a dramatic arc whatsoever.
Then the last chapter comes. Pretty much out of nowhere. It’s like someone read the book and criticized it for being too positive and happy. So Lewton pulls the rug out from us, introducing a horrific tragedy from out of nowhere. It’s a deus ex machina in reverse. Everything was ending swimmingly, so tragedy is thrown onto the stage at the last second to save us from a happy ending.
It’s really bizarre. And I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything quite like it before. I’ve dreamt that someday someone would make a light, by-the-numbers romantic comedy and about an hour into the movie, one of the leads suddenly dies of a heart attack in a car-jacking or something. This novel is kind of like that.
And frankly, the bizarre ending, where defeat is wrenched from the jaws of victory at the very last second, is the only thing that makes this novel even marginally worth reading. The book got on my radar as a result of appearing on a top ten noir list. But it in no way deserves to be there.
Lewton says: “Years ago I wrote novels for a living, and when RKO was looking for producers, someone told them I had written horrible novels. They misunderstood the word ‘horrible’ for ‘horror’ and I got the job….” Lewton, of course, is famous for his horror films: Cat People, I Walked with a Zombie, The Seventh Victim, Curse of the Cat People, The Leopard Man, Isle of the Dead, Bedlam, The Body Snatcher, The Ghost Ship, among others.
Before I read the book I figured he was joking. Guess not.
R. B. DOMINIC – There Is No Justice. Ben Safford #3. Doubleday Crime Club. hardcover, 1971. Paperjacks, paperback, 1985/6?.
A well-kept secret for a time, but now common knowledge, is that authors of this series are Mary Jane Latsis and Martha Henissart, the collaborative team that also writes as Emma Lathen. Quite different in tone from the world of Wall Street depicted in their John Putnam Thatcher series, the Dominic books concern the inner workings of the House of Representatives in Washington, D.C., and related activities in Newburg. Ohio. the place from which Benton Safford (D-Ohio) is biennially elected. Safford’s legislative cohorts, Eugene Valingham Oakes (R-S.D.), Anthony Martinelli (D-R.I.), and Elsie Hollenbach (R-Calif.), serve their districts and the rest of the United States (in that order).
Coleman Ives (who was born and raised in Stafford’s district) has been nominated by a Republican president to serve as a member of the Supreme Court. The hearings are being conducted by the Senate’s Judiciary Committee. A member of the Senate who has opposed Ives’s nomination is murdered while jogging, but Ives has a perfect alibi, since he was in New York City at the time.
Safford’s involvement in the investigation deepens when another, evidently related murder takes place at a college graduation at which he is present. Intermittent conversations with his friends, usually over a couple of drinks in his office at the end of the day, make Ben and the reader aware of some gossip. rumor, and home truths about Ives, his personal activities, and the ongoing investigations, both political and police.
Each book in this series features some aspect of a congressman’s job, such as hearings on educational television or applications of the Pure Food and Drug Act. The constant and varying demands on these elected officials, the way members of Congress really behave and react on a day-to-day basis, and the behind-the-scenes activities of working Washington are well depicted by Dominic. Readers who enjoy identifying a character’s real life prototype will have fun with a number of the characters.
Other novels featuring this legislative quartet are Murder in High Place (1970), in which they were introduced, and Epitaph for a Lobbyist(1974).
Murder Sunny Side Up. Abelard-Schuman 1968
Murder in High Place. Doubleday 1970
There Is No Justice. Doubleday, 1971.
Epitaph for a Lobbyist. Doubleday, 1974.
Murder Out of Commission. Doubleday, 1976.
The Attending Physician. Harper, 1980.
Unexpected Developments. St. Martin’s, 1984.
BULLET SCARS. Warner Bros. / First National, 1942. Regis Toomey, Adele Longmire, Howard Da Silva, Ben Welden, William Hopper (uncredited). Director: D. Ross Lederman. Currently streaming on YouTube (see below).
The plot of this one is definitely second-hand, if not third. When the members of the Frank Dillon gang hold up a small town bank, one of the thieves is shot and seriously wounded. They need a doctor for him right away. They kill the first one, who gets too wise too quickly. The second one, played by Regis Toomey, is a lot slower on the uptake, and agrees to operate (brain surgery, no less) is a small cabin in the mountains, with only a nurse (the wounded man’s sister, but under duress herself) to assist.
As I say, Dr. Bishop may be a whiz at the operating table, but then again, he’s the kind of guy who’s interested in doctoring and doing research and never listens to the news. It is Nurse Madison (sharp-featured and pretty brunette Adele Longmire) breaks the news to him, they both realize that they have to keep the patient alive, or else. Complicating matters is that Dillon, whose mob it is (Howard Da Silva) is sweet on Nurse Madison. (She does not reciprocate the feelings.)
In spite of the well-worn plot, the cast is fine, the pacing is marred only by one of the hoods always whining comically about his health, and the ending has a lot of firepower – at least ten minutes’ worth. This was female star Adele Longmire’s first film, and while more than satisfactory in the role, she didn’t make another movie or TV appearance for another six years, with no more than a dozen additional credits on IMDb after that. And even though William Hopper was on the screen very early on (as a bank teller) for only maybe two or three seconds, I think I recognized him, but only because I went looking.
CALLAN “Breakout.†Thames TV, UK, 10 June 1970 (Season 3, Episode 8). Edward Woodward (Callan), William Squire, Patrick Mower. Guest stars: Russell Hunter. Garfield Morgan. Teleplay by James Mitchell based on his own characters. Directed by Reginald Collin. Currently available on DVD and YouTube (see below).
When a KGB agent named Lupin turns himself in to the police, it means that the men in the super secretive “Section,†who have been keeping tabs on him, cannot use their usual means of interrogation on him, which was the whole idea. The solution to the problem? Break him out of jail, posing as Russians, so he will go along with them.
Complicating matters, and adding to their urgency, is the fact that Lupin has a list of all of Britain’s agents and aliases, and David Callan’s name is on it.
And of course, as with most heist capers, things do not go smoothly.
I chose this fast-paced episode to watch more or less random, but if it’s representative of the entire series, I may have made a mistake. It’s excellent, and I probably should have started at the beginning and worked my way through. (It ran for four seasons, and most of the episodes appear to be available on YouTube.)
And in fact, I may just do that. The action scenes were often filmed without dialogue, so that was fine, but watching a British program without captioning and an indifferent soundtrack meant missing important incidental things, such as who was who and why. Some of the humorous bits were also of some difficulty to pick up on. I do indeed need to watch more.
Of special note, if you watch this on your own, note how young and spry Edward Woodward was when he made this. I almost didn’t recognize him.
THRILLER “The Double Kill.” ITV, UK, First broadcast either on February 18 or April 19, 1975 Series 5, Episode 2, Number 31 of 43. Cast: Gary Collins (Hugh Briant), James Villiers, Peter Bowles (Superintendent Lucas), Stuart Wilson, Penelope Horner (Clarissa Briant), John Flanagan, Hilda Fenemore, Griffith Davies, Michael Stainton, Gordon Salkilld, Norman Mitchell, Paul Nicholson. Series creator: Brian Clemens (1931-2015). Writer: Brian Clemens. Director: Ian Fordyce (1931-1988). Currently streaming on Pluto TV and YouTube (see below).
Clarissa Briant has it all: a stately home in the country filled with valuable artwork (with more to come), the great wealth that such possessions betoken, and Hugh, her American husband, to share it with.
But Hugh seems more eager to share knowledge of Clarissa’s acquisitions with the world at large, especially at social occasions and even in the local pub to perfect strangers. He has become the incarnation of that old wartime adage about loose lips sinking ships, blabbing to one and all, for instance, about how their security systems are yet to be installed, puzzling behavior even for an American.
Sure enough, it isn’t long before a burglar has a go at those objets d’art gracing the walls and mantelpiece, only to get caught by Hugh in flagrante delicto. You’d think that Hugh has laid a trap and an unsuspecting bug has fallen into it — and you’d be right; but you’d be wrong in assuming Hugh is going to do the proper thing and turn the burglar in.
No, Hugh has big plans, and a common variety thief like this one just won’t do. Hugh needs someone who is willing to go much further than simply purloining stuff, someone with enough guts to go that extra step to murder . . . .
“The Double Kill” fits snugly in the “perfect crime” subgenre, two fine examples of which are Double Indemnity (1944) and Dial “M” for Murder (1954). Although it comes closer to the Hitchcock film, “The Double Kill” excels in plot twists, enough to make Dial “M” look as uncomplicated as a typical investigation with Encyclopedia Brown.
While Gary Collins (1938-2012) carries on the British tradition of importing American actors to boost international sales, he is very good here, veering from smug overconfidence to near desperation, his barely concealed anger and frustrations bubbling up from time to time. Although he appeared in a few movies, Collins spent most of his career on the small screen, starring, for example, in the Night Gallery spin-off series, The Sixth Sense (1972, 25 episodes). Along with another American, Donna Mills, he had the most repeat appearances (3) on Thriller.
Similarly, Penelope Horner (born 1939) performed in both movies and TV, retiring in 1986.
Another versatile actor who could handle drama and comedy equally well was Peter Bowles (1936-2022), the wily Superintendent Lucas, whose conduct during the investigation takes a surprising and almost Machiavellian turn.
THE CASE OF THE DANGEROUS ROBIN “The Tin Caper.†Syndicated / ZIV. 10 April 1961 [as aired on KNXT, Los Angeles] (Season One, Episode 26). Rick Jason (Robin Scott), Jean Blake (Phyllis Collier). Screenplay: Robert Lesllie Bellem. Director: William Conrad. Currently streaming on YouTube (see below but note that the picture quality is only fair at best, and the sound synchronization is way off).
Robin Scott was a free-lance insurance investigator, which I’m going to say qualifies him as a PI. His usual fee is ten percent of whatever he saves the insurance company in that week’s episode. It isn’t particularly noticeable in this one, but his primary gimmick is that he does not use a gun, only karate. His girl friend Phyllis Collier somehow gets mixed up in all of cases, either by hindering or on occasion (perhaps) helping.
Gone missing in this one is a ship’s cargo of tin, dumped overboard, the captain and crew claim, during a violent storm that otherwise threatened to sink the vessel. Robin thinks otherwise. In the guise of wanting to elope and kidnapping Phyllis for a large ransom from her father as well, he wrangles his way onto the ship, gets both of them captured, only to escape, and gee it’s all too easy.
And not very involving, either. Other episodes may be better, but on the other hand, I seriously doubt if many of them still exist. The Case of the Dangerous Robin lasted for one season of 38 episodes.
