Forgotten Book - Death is My Bridegroom

Death is My Bridegroom was published in 1969 by Dominic Devine, shortly after The Sleeping Tiger, a strong and cleverly plotted book with a distinctive storyline. Here, I think he was trying to do something different again. In fact, one of the things I like about Devine is that he kept varying the way he told his stories. Each was a stand-alone, and most of them were distinctive and very well-crafted, with good characterisation as well as crafty plots.

The story is set at Branchfield University, evidently in England (although Devine worked as a senior administrator in a Scottish university, and the scene does shift north of the border at one point). There is quite a bit about university politics, which has an authentic flavour (for the time the book was written) and Devine amuses himself by making a few jokes at the expense of academics (e.g. 'If there was one thing academics had in common, it was a taste for other people's alcohol').

The students are protesting about the alleged mistreatment of one of their number, and a a fake kidnap stunt connected with the protest is utilised for malign purposes by someone who has murder on their mind. One of the key characters is Barbara Letchworth, daughter of a rich benefactor of the university, another is her lover, the charming but feckless Michael Denton. Barbara is the potential 'victim' in the fake kidnap, but things don't go to plan.

I found this book an enjoyable read, but although the story is quite elaborate and twisty, the culprit is easier to spot than in many of his books, and the truth is revealed some time before the end. I think this is because Devine was trying to focus on character and the psychological stresses that can give rise to murder. I'm not sure he got the balance quite right on this occasion, but the book is still a pretty good read.   

A Cure for Wellness - 2016 film review

A Cure for Wellness, first released ten years ago, is a film that seems to divide opinion, and I can see why. It's certainly visually stunning. And it's almost certainly too long. After that, many aspects of the film are debatable. For instance, how does one categorise it? A horror film with a large dollop of fantasy seems to me to be about right. Thomas Mann's The Magic Mountain was apparently an influence on the writer, Justin Haythe. There are also elements of satire, of the 'wellness' industry, and of capitalist ruthlessness, but these ingredients are handled in a rather patchy way. 

Dane DeHaan plays Lockhart, a young and rather soulless financial guy working in a crooked American corporation. His bosses order him to a colleague, Roland Pembroke, whose input is required so that their business doesn't collapse. Pembroke has checked into a 'wellness centre' in the Swiss Alps. Suffice to say that the corporate part of the story is presented in a stylised and not very credible way. I'm pretty sure Thomas Mann had nothing to do with it...

Lockhart travels to the wellness centre, to find that it's housed in a rather spectacular, if remote, castle. In charge of things is a doctor called Volmer - who is played by Jason Isaacs. And that wasn't the only bit of casting that startled me - one of the patients is played by Celia Imrie. Lockhart is involved in a car accident and wakes up to find that he too is now a patient. He meets a mysterious young woman called Hannah (Mia Goth, perfectly cast), and by now it's abundantly clear that Something Very Odd is going on at the clinic.

Barminess prevails for most of the rest of the film. You don't so much need to suspend your disbelief as hang it by the neck, probably until it's dead. It's all pretty crazy, and yet the film does have something of merit. Although the dentistry scene is definitely not for the faint-hearted. I had very mixed feelings about it, perhaps because I found it so hard to empathise with Lockhart. And the belated re-involvement of his capitalist bosses into the story simply didn't work for me.  

Black Widow aka The Black Widow

First, a word of thanks to the loyal readers of this blog. In the month of May, there were more than one million pageviews (over 1.085 million, in fact), a figure I find astonishing and a number that represents a record for the blog. So thank you very much. As I've said before, I suspect AI has something to do with the upsurge, but I know from your emails and messages that it's not the whole explanation. And there will be a new free 'Life of Crime' Substack newsletter from me today as well. Plus, all being well, no fewer than three 'Life of Crime Premium' newsletters and supplements during the course of June containing plenty of fresh information about one of the great figures of the Golden Age, Gladys Mitchell. 

Now to today's topic. Black Widow is a phrase that makes a good title, so it's no surprise that it's been used plenty of times. I've reviewed one film with such a title on this blog - eight years ago, in fact. That movie was based on a novel by Patrick Quentin. The film I'm discussing today was released three years earlier, in 1951, and doesn't have such a strong cast. It was based on a radio serial by Lester Powell called Return from Darkness. The storyline must have something, since in 1958 there was a TV version of the play, written by Powell for an anthology series, Suspicion.

Powell was, you might say, a journeyman writer, but he enjoyed success on both radio and TV . Among other things, he contributed a couple of scripts early on to The Avengers. The screenplay for the film, however, was written by Allan Mackinnon, another of the hard-working scriptwriters of the post-war era, and someone who also tried his hand as a novelist; I recall a book of his, House of Darkness, being reissued in paperback a long time ago, in one of the many attempts to launch a strong crime reprint series (Cyril Hare's first novel Tenant for Death also appeared under the same imprint, which is where I first discovered it, but that particular series of 'Crime Classics' soon disappeared from sight).

The film is one of those 'quota quickies' that were so common in the post-war years, and it was made by Hammer, whose forays into the crime field I find interesting. The set-up of the film is pretty good. Mark Sherwin (Robert Ayres, an American playing a Canadian) is motoring in Yorkshire when he comes across a body lying in the road. He goes to help, and is coshed and has his car stolen for his pains. When he recovers, he is suffering from amnesia, and doesn't know who he is.

The plot thickens nicely for a time, although it's all wrapped up with rather unseemly haste. The sultry Christine Norden plays the eponymous widow, and Jennifer Jayne is the love interest. The director was the prolific Vernon Sewell.  

Forgotten Book - A Hero for Leanda

There's a passing reference to Archbishop Makarios in Andrew Garve's 1958 sailing thriller A Hero for Leanda, and this is, I feel sure, a huge clue as to the inspiration for the storyline. Briefly, Makarios was a high-profile figure in the 1950s, and thereafter. He was a Greek Cypriot who wanted Cyprus to escape from British colonialism, and in 1956 the British had him exiled in the Seychelles, where he remained for a while before being released and although he had to give up on the idea of unifying the island with Greece (because of the hostility of the Turkish Cypriot community), independence and a partitioning of the island was eventually achieved.

Garve's story is about an Irish yachtsman, Mike Conway, whose boat is destroyed in West Africa, leaving him destitute. However, he's approached by someone who introduces him to a rich chap who wants to achieve independence for an island called Spyros (spot the similar name?) The British are keeping Kastella, the leader of the independence movement in exile on an island called Heureuse. Conway (whose Irish roots mean that he is no lover of the Brits) is hired to rescue him, and introduced to an attractive young woman, Leanda, who is willing to help him on his perilous mission.

I did wonder if there might be some kind of plot twist about the wrecking of Conway's boat; spoiler alert, there wasn't. But this is a side issue in any event. The interest of the book likes in Garve's account of the trip on the boat Thalia. I have no expertise in sailing boats whatsoever, but I have no doubt about the authenticity of the material.

The interplay of the lead characters is quite nicely done. I liked, in particular, the way in which Conway expresses his cynicism about political idealists. I think the world needs idealists, but I also think that idealism can create horrors of its own. Garve seems to have spent his early years very much as a political idealist, but by the time he wrote this novel, his views had changed markedly. This is a soundly written thriller, which has stood the test of time pretty well. 

Back from France

I've returned to sunny England after a lovely trip to almost equally sunny France that represented a very welcome break before I get stuck into the edits for my forthcoming novel, Fever Island, which is due out in September. The trip was based at two hotels, one in Sarlat, and one in Carcassonne, both of which are delightful places.

To be honest, I'd never heard of Sarlat, but it turned out to be quite a revelation, a lovely and historic town with lots to see and plenty of excellent restaurants. It also proved to be an excellent base for several excursions. One of these was to see the famous cave paintings of Lascaux - well, replicas thereof, to be precise, since the originals are too precious to be exposed to tourists - and they lived up to their reputation.

Then followed a trip to Rocamadour, a famous place of pilgrimage, and very impressive, and the lovely gardens of Marqueyssac. After that, a visit to the impressive castle at Beynac and then via Domme to La Roque-Gageac for a river trip (something I always enjoy). A longish coach journey to Carcassonne was broken at Cahors. The final trip from there was to Albi, an impressive old city with a massive brick cathedral and an excellent Toulouse Lautrec museum and art gallery. 

 

Carcassonne was the only place on the itinerary that I'd visited before, and it was as fascinating as I remembered, oozing history and charm. Again, plenty of nice places to eat and drink, and a highlight was a walk all around the walls of the city. Not everyone is a fan of organised tours such as this one, but I loved it. Now to plan the next trip... 

Flavia - and Alan Bradley

It's always a source of pleasure when a friend of mine has a novel or series of theirs adapted for film or television, and in the run-up I keep my fingers crossed that the people who have done the adaptation have done the story justice. This doesn't always happen - the TV versions of books by friends of mine like Tim Heald, Marjorie Eccles, and Liza Cody were not a success, as they were the first to say - but sometimes it really does: Vera, Shetland, Slow Horses and Fallen Angel are among the triumphs that spring to mind.

Now we can add Flavia to the list of successful adaptations. When I saw the film a couple of weeks ago (and started drafting this blog post), I felt especially pleased for Flavia's creator, Alan Bradley, a delightful person whom I always enjoyed chatting to - usually, alas, all too briefly. He was telling me about Flavia when we last met on the Isle of Man about eighteen months ago: see the above photo. 

I was, though, deeply saddened to hear, whilst I was away in France last week, that Alan had died. I had hoped, among other things, to have the chance to discuss his thoughts on the film, and his reaction to the experience of having his book brought to the big screen. Alan was Canadian, and after living in Malta for a time, he settled on the Isle of Man. He was based there when he and I first met at a crime writing conference in Oxford back in 2014. I found him very good company. We met again when I presented a murder mystery on the island five years later - see the photo above. It was very good of him to turn up to the events I did on the island and I feel he was a generous and kindly man, as well as a very talented writer.

What of the film? The script (by Susan Coyne) is based on Alan's first book about Flavia de Luce, The Sweetness at the Bottom of the Pie. Importantly, the cast is a strong one. The demanding role of the rather precocious Flavia is well handled by young Molly Belle Wright, and there are stellar names in the cast: Toby Jones, Martin Freeman, and Jonathan Pryce. With such excellent actors, you are in safe hands, and they all give strong performances.

A dead body turns up in the garden of Flavia's home, and when her father (Freeman) is accused of having committed the murder, Flavia sees it as her job to turn detective and secure his freedom by tracking down the real killer. Stamp collecting, of all things, plays a significant part in a storyline that has enough variety and light amusement to keep the viewer entertained. I enjoyed watching the film and I bet Alan was delighted with it. I'm sad that he's gone but so glad that he lived to see the film made and enjoying good reviews. 

Forgotten Book - Dead Heat

Dead Heat, first published in 1986, is a lively example of Martin Russell's skill as a crime writer. I've always liked his work and I wrote about him in a recent The Life of Crime Premium newsletter. He was good at conjuring up baffling situations which confront ordinary people who may or may not have been tempted to solve their problems by committing a crime - usually murder. He was also very readable, so that you can gulp down his stories pretty quickly. This technique, when used shrewdly, is also a good way of making sure that your readers don't start worrying about some of the unlikelier plot developments!

His protagonist here is another of the ordinary, flawed men who populate so many of his standalone novels. Marvin Pike is a man of thirty (who seems a lot older to me in the way he thinks and behaves) who is married to the lovely but lazy and faithless Arlene. He persuaded her to marry him with some pathetic big talk about making a million, but his ambitions of making a fortune were always pie in the sky.

Instead, he's running a shop that is struggling, in partnership with an old school friend, Gareth Somers, who handles the financial side of the business. Arlene has given up serving behind the counter and Marvin has become dependent on the help of a young woman called Gail. These four people become embroiled in an intriguing set of events when Marvin, having turned a blind eye to Arlene's adultery with Gareth, discovers that his partner is also robbing him blind. The worm is ready to turn...

There's one terrific plot twist in this book. The dust jacket blurb gives away a great deal of the story (not the only time that Collins Crime Club did this, regrettably), and I'm not going to follow suit, but I will say that although I struggled to warm to Marvin, I did enjoy the novel. A good, fast read, typical of Martin Russell's better work. 

The Intruder - 2019 film review

Home invasion thrillers have been commonplace for a long time, but their continuing appeal derives, I think, from the simple truth that, for almost all of us, home is a very, very important part of our lives. It can be our sanctuary from what's wrong with the world. So when someone or something invades it, the results can be not only disconcerting but extremely frightening.

The Intruder is a 2019 film written by the late David Loughery and it benefits from a suitably intense, and indeed at times manic, performance by Dennis Quaid as the eponymous bad guy. Quaid throws himself into the role of Charlie Peck with gusto and Michael Ealy and Meagan Good are effective as Scott and Annie Howard, the upwardly mobile couple who decide to escape urban living to move out to a nice house in the country with a view to raising a family.

The snag is that although Charlie reduces the price of the property (to a mere $3.3 million - the Howards are doing well financially...) and therefore appears keen to move to live with his daughter in Florida, in fact he hangs around in a rather troubling way. Even more disturbing, he has his eye on Annie, whose marriage to Scott has been through a rocky patch in the past.

There are various plot holes in the screenplay. For instance, one plot twist depends on a significant feature of the house that had me wondering why the surveyor never spotted it! And Annie's decision to allow Charlie back into the house after he has displayed his creepiness quite unequivocally was crazy. But the direction by Deon Taylor is just about brisk enough to justify the necessary suspension of disbelief. 

Hallow Road - 2025 film review

Hallow Road is a recent film with a small but high-calibre cast, led by Rosamund Pike and Matthew Rhys. One night they are woken up by a smoke alarm (is there any more irritating sound?) and receive a panicky phone call from their daughter Alice. She has, apparently, stormed out of the house after a row and driven to remote Hallow Road, in Ashfork Forest in her Dad's car. And she has knocked a girl down.

Maddie, Alice's mum, is a paramedic (although we sense quite early on that not all has gone well for her in that role) and Frank is evidently rather controlling. They decide to go out in the night to find Alice and as they drive, they are trying to figure out what to do for the best. Almost inevitably in this situation they make one bad choice after another. Frank in particular makes some decisions that, even in a high-stress scenario, are obviously unwise.

Bit by bit, as the couple drive and keep talking to their daughter - a very claustrophobic situation inside the car - we learn more about their relationship and the issues that led Alice to go out into the night. Alice's panic-stricken voice makes an ironic contrast with the smiley picture of her on the phone, a reminder of the gulf between the images that people often present of themselves and the more challenged reality.

It's difficult to say too much about this film, and in particular the way it ends, without giving away spoilers. Suffice to say that the ending is ambiguous, and the ambiguity didn't entirely work for me, because I felt there were logic problems whichever interpretation you adopt of the film. However, it has been mostly well-received, and I certainly found it watchable. 

Forgotten Book - Case without a Corpse

Case Without a Corpse was Leo Bruce's second book about Sergeant Beef, appearing in 1937 and following up the highly successful Case for Three Detectives. Again, the narrator is Beef's patronising writer friend Townsend. The story opens in a local pub, with Beef playing darts. A local rascal, young Rogers, bursts in and announces that he has murdered someone - and promptly takes poison and dies.

This is as dramatic an opening as you could wish for in a Golden Age novel, and overall the story lives up to its initial promise as Bruce surmounts the so-called 'second novel hurdle' with quite a degree of ease. There's also a lot of fun to be had. Bruce pokes fun at Golden Age tropes regularly, and he does so in a very entertaining way. I liked his disappointment at Beef's readiness to call in Scotland Yard, for instance, and the by-play between Inspector Stute of the Yard and Beef is a lot of fun, as is Stute's bafflement about the fact that one of the local constables is called Galsworthy (a joke that has not, perhaps, aged too well, but it pleased me!)

Even better is Townsend's comment when he's admitted to a police conference: 'my reading of detective stories...had taught me that an outsider, with no particular excuse, was often welcomed on these occasions, especially if he had the gift of native fatuity, and could ask ludicrous questions at the right moment...'

It's fair to say that things get a little bit bogged down in the middle section of the book, but I thought the final revelations made the wait worthwhile. At the end of the story, Beef hankers after a transfer to Scotland Yard, and says that if he doesn't get his just reward, he'll retire from the force and set up on his own as a private investigator. And Bruce's writing is so likeable that it will be a pleasure to see what happens next in Beef's career.