Venetian Bird aka The Assassin - 1952 film review

Victor Canning was a thriller writer whose work was, on the whole, a cut above that of many of his post-war contemporaries. I haven't read his 1950 novel Venetian Bird, but thanks to Talking Pictures TV, I've watched the film version (given the alternative but rather humdrum title of The Assassin in the US). The film was made in black and white but still manages to evoke Venice's charm.

I wondered if the storyline might be some sort of poor man's version of The Maltese Falcon, but was glad to find that wasn't the case. Edward Mercer (Richard Todd) is a private investigator who arrives in Venice on an errand. He's placed an advertisement to find information about someone, but this element of the plot turns out to be a MacGuffin. It's not what the film is mainly about.

Mercer becomes curious about a gallery owned by the wealthy Count Boria and finds himself attracted to an enigmatic and glamorous woman who works there called Adriana Medova (Eva Bartok, who is the subject of a rather interesting tribute website; suffice to say here that she had a full life!) Eventually it emerges (as that crass alternative title flagged up at the outset) that this is really a story about a plan to carry out a political assassination. There is also a mystery element, which although very guessable does add texture to the story.

The supporting cast is strong; it includes John Gregson in an uncharacteristic role, the wonderful Miles Malleson, and Sid James, of all people, playing an Italian undertaker, one of the least likely bits of casting I can recall. George Coulouris is surprisingly empathetic as the chief of police; he was a very good actor, and I was surprised to discover that he was born in Manchester and grew up there and in Urmston, not too far from my home village of Lymm. The direction by Ralph Thomas is snappy, with a good rooftop chase at the end. Overall, this film is well worth watching.

Gideon's Day - film review

Gideon's Day, also known as Gideon of Scotland Yard, is a late Fifties film based on a novel by J.J.Marric, which was one of John Creasey's many pseudonyms. As a small boy, I watched episodes of the TV series based on the character, George Gideon, which starred John Gregson (Gideon's Way), and when the film popped up on the schedules, I thought it was high time I caught up with it..Creasey wrote hundreds of books, but some people think that the Gideon series included much of his best work.

The film has a lot going for it. Directed by the legendary John Ford, it has a screenplay by T.E.B. Clarke, who is perhaps most renowned for that Ealing classic The Lavender Hill Mob. Gideon is played by Jack Hawkins, one of the most striking British actors of the Fifties, and there is a very good supporting cast. John Le Mesurier and Miles Malleson, two old favourites of mine, both appear in a scene at the Old Bailey, while Anna Massey, whom I once saw give a splendid performance on the stage, made her debut as Gideon's daughter.

The essence of the story is about the packed and varied day experienced by Gideon, and his hapless attempts to juggle work with his home life. He suspends a crooked subordinate (who is murdered shortly afterwards), solves a series of pay snatches (risking his life in the process), is involved in the hunt for a deranged sex killer, gives evidence in a court case, helps to save an informant from a razor gang, and catches a robber who has already killed the guard at a security deposit, Blimey! He even finds time to pop home for lunch and drop into a pub for tea, although both times he is interrupted before he can eat anything.

It's a film that must have seemed very topical at the time of its release,and like most topical stories, it now has a very dated feel. Mrs Gideon, for instance, is very much a housewife of the Fifties, and the portrayal of the police is a world away from Broadchurch or Happy Valley. During the first few minutes, I wasn't sure I was going to enjoy the film, but I did warm to it. A period piece, yes, but decent light entertainment.

Trent's Last Case

Trent’s Last Case, by E.C. Bentley, is properly regarded as one of the landmark books in the history of crime fiction. The first two film versions left Bentley unimpressed, but the third, shot in 1952, was better and I’ve just watched a DVD of the movie that I received as a welcome Christmas present.

The stars were Michael Wilding (one of Elizabeth Taylor’s many husbands), Margaret Lockwood (whose many other films include that classic The Lady Vanishes), Orson Welles, no less, as Sigsbee Manderson, and Miles Malleson, who had a rather more important role than usual in his prolific career.

I thought it was a decent film. Famously, whodunits are tricky to film; you can understand why Hitchcock generally favoured suspense rather than a heavily plotted mystery. But this one remains perfectly watchable.

The book was greatly admired by Sayers and Christie, among others, and it was a formative influence on their writing careers. Sayers later became a good friend of ‘Jack’ Bentley, so much so that she even rhapsodised over the belated follow-up, Trent’s Own Case, though in truth it was a relatively minor work. Bentley never came close to surpassing his debut novel.