Death at Broadcasting House - 1934 film review

Thanks to the wonderful channel Talking Pictures, I've caught up with the film of a book I wrote about in The Golden Age of Murder. And what a terrific period piece it is. I can't easily recall any film from the early days of the talkies that I've enjoyed so much. The movie is Death at Broadcasting House, based on the book of the same name by Val Gielgud and Holt Marvell.

In the US,the book was called London Calling!, possibly because in its early days Broadcasting House wasn't well known on the other side of the Atlantic. I am lucky enough to have a copy of the American edition of the book, inscribed by Eric Maschwitz, who used the pen-name Holt Marvell, and is best known as the lyricist who wrote A Nightingale Sang in Berkeley Square. Like Val Gielgud, he was a BBC insider, and their know-how informs both the novel and the film.

Gielgud actually plays one of the main suspects, Julian Caird. He was a decent actor, if not quite in the same league as his brother Sir John. (Incidentally, when I presented the Classic Crimes course at the British Library recently, the curator Kathryn Johnson showed us Gielgud's anotated manuscripts as well as his scrapbook - quite fascinating.)

The film is, if anything, better than the book. It's a fast-paced story about a blackmailing actor who is murdered while playing the part of a murder victim in a mystery play for radio. There's a nice mix of suspects, and a good cast including Austin Trevor and the young Jack Hawkins. In one of a number of interesting cameos,the splendid Elisabeth Welch sings a song. The script is sharp, with some genuinely funny lines. But above all the film supplies a great insight into the early days of broadcasting. It's very watchable despite its age. Great fun.

Forgotten Book - Death at Broadcasting House

My Forgotten Book for today, Death at Broadcasting House (known as London Calling in the US) was a joint effort. The authors were two men who worked for the BBC, Val Gielgud, brother of John, and Eric Maschwitz, who used the pen-name Holt Marvell. Of the two, Gielgud was the great enthusiast for the genre. He was a good friend of Dorothy L. Sayers and John Dickson Carr, and ultimately earned election to the Detection Club. This early effort, however, is perhaps his most famous.

And that is because of the use of Broadcasting House as a backdrop for a pretty ingenious murder, when an actor is killed in front of an open microphone when . The setting is described in great detail, making the novel a wonderful period piece as far as a modern reader is concerned. No fewer than three floor plans are provided, and they are quite useful for anyone who wants to take a practical approach to sleuthing, and beat the likeable Inspector Spears to the solution.

I didn't find the murder mystery deeply engrossing, but the portrayal of life in and around the BBC at that time was absolutely fascinating. The plot, with all its contrivances, I'd rate as functional, but there is a great appeal in getting the "feel" of somewhere interesting, and the BBC under the legendary Lord Reith was certainly that.

Gielgud in particular was a capable writer, and it's a shame that his crime novels are now overlooked. He wrote five with Marvell/Maschwitz, concluding in 1940 with The First Television Murder, which I haven't read, but where presumably the clue is in the title. Later, he wrote solo, and his career lasted until the mid 70s. In addition to his long and successful career at the BBC, he also found time to get married five times. A busy man.