Holmes Herbert Movies

When Lucille Fletcher took on the challenge of expanding her classic 30-minute radio suspenser Sorry, Wrong Number into an 89-minute feature film, she opted on the Citizen Kane approach, filling the plotline to the brim with revelatory flashbacks. Barbara Stanwyck stars as bedridden hypochondriac Leona Stevenson, who while trying to make a call from her bedroom telephone gets her wires crossed and inadvertently overhears two men plotting a murder. Anxiously, Leona wades through telephone-company bureaucracy to trace the call, never catching on -- until it's too late -- that the murder being planned is hers. A series of flashbacks details the disintegrating marriage between the wealthy Leona and her weakling husband Henry (Burt Lancaster), and Henry's subsequent disastrous get-rich-quick schemes involving chemist Waldo Evans (Harold Vermilyea) and a surly gangster (William Conrad). It would have been a near-sacrilege to alter the radio play's ironic ending, which fortunately remains intact on film. Sorry Wrong Number was first heard on radio's Suspense series in 1943, with Agnes Moorehead as the harried Mrs. Stevenson (a role she'd repeat several times on radio and on stage). Though disappointed that she wasn't chosen to star in the film version, Moorehead took some satisfaction in the fact that a recording of the original radio program was played constantly on the set to help keep Barbara Stanwyck "in the mood". ~ Hal Erickson, Rovi

Belle Bennett, the long-suffering leading lady of Stella Dallas (1926), heads the cast of Columbia's The Sporting Age. The story is motivated by a train wreck which causes racetrack owner Holmes Herbert to temporarily lose his eyesight. Taking advantage of this, Herbert's straying wife Bennett carries on an affair with her husband's male secretary Carroll Nye. What neither of the illicit lovers realize is that Herbert has recovered his vision somewhat ahead of schedule -- and he isn't missing a thing! How long will it be before Bennett and Nye find out that Herbert sees all and knows all? ~ Hal Erickson, Rovi

A college student's passion for swinging music leads him to found his own band. When he starts spending more time playing music than studying, his father, a prominent hotelier, steps in and sends the lad to a dude ranch in Arizona. Undeterred, the boy brings the band with him. Once there, he encounters a pretty girl. Unfortunately, her father owns a rival hotel chain. Fortunately, after much singing, dancing and misunderstanding, the two young people finally manage to fall in love. Though only an hour long, the film is packed with 16 popular songs. ~ Sandra Brennan, Rovi

Basil Rathbone and Nigel Bruce make their second screen appearances as Sherlock Holmes and Dr. Watson in The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes. Ostensibly based on the stage play by William Gillette, the film owes nothing to the play beyond the characters of Holmes, Watson, Billy the page boy and Professor Moriarty. Played with relish (and a bit of pickle) by George Zucco, Moriarty plots to steal the Crown Jewels, and also to confound Holmes by obliging the Great Detective to be in two places at once. Ida Lupino costars as an imperiled young woman who is seemingly plagued by an ancient family curse--a plot development that has been carefully stage-managed by the malevolent Moriarty. Basil Rathbone is excellent not only as Holmes but also in the guise of a cockney music-hall entertainer (if indeed that is Rathbone performing a buck-and-wing in longshot). The second of Twentieth Century-Fox's Holmes films (Hound of the Baskervilles was the first), The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes was the last in which Rathbone and Bruce were seen in a 19th century setting. In the subsquent Sherlock Holmes series at Universal, the exploits of Holmes and Watson were updated to the World War II years. ~ Hal Erickson, Rovi

The Black Doll is one of the better entries in Universal's "Crime Club" series. Most of the action takes place on a dark and very stormy night, as the survivors of a long-ago mining expedition gather together in fear and trembling. It seems that a man whom the miners left for dead is very much alive and out for revenge. The killer warns each victim of impending doom by leaving behind a black voodoo doll, of which he has a seemingly endless supply. Into this highly charged situation stumbles heroine Marian Rood (Nan Grey), who may very well be linked to the murders that follow. Trying to sort out the clues are amateur sleuths Nick (Donald Woods) and Rex (William Lundigan), while the irascible Sheriff Renick (Edgar Kennedy) simmers and scowls. Originally released at 66 minutes, The Black Doll plays rather well in its 48-minute TV version. ~ Hal Erickson, Rovi

Cecil B. DeMille's The Buccaneer stars Fredric March, complete with curly hair, pencil moustache and florid "Sacre Bleu!" French accent, as 18th century pirate Jean Lafitte. Operating out of a "buccaneer's haven" of the coast of New Orleans, Lafitte plunders all passing ships for their wealth, but refuses to attack any vessel flying the American flag. During one seafaring skirmish, he rescues Dutch maiden Gretchen (Franziska Gaal) from a sunken ship. Gretchen falls madly in love with the dashing Lafitte, but he has eyes only for aristocratic Louisana belle Annette (Margot Grahame). During the War of 1812, Lafitte is offered a pardon by Andrew Jackson (Hugh Sothern) if he and his pirates will fight on the American side. As good as his word, Lafitte stands shoulder to shoulder with Jackson as they ward off the British at the Battle of New Orleans. During a Victory Ball in his honor, Lafitte is confronted with evidence that he unknowingly caused the death of Annette's younger sister Marie (Louise Campbell) during a previous act of piracy. The assembled guests are all for hanging Lafitte on the spot, but General Jackson offers the pirate an hour's head start out of New Orleans, provided he never set foot on American soil again. This naturally costs Lafitte the love of Annette; fortunately, Gretchen is awaiting him on board his ship with open arms. From the opening scene in which Dolly Madison (Spring Byington) rescues the Declaration of Independence during the burning of Washington to the closing clinch between Lafitte and Gretchen, The Buccaneer is one of DeMille's most exhilarating films. It was remade less successfully in 1958 under the direction of Cecil B's son-in-law Anthony Quinn, who played the supporting role of Beluche in the original film. ~ Hal Erickson, Rovi

Of the many film versions of Alfred Lord Tennyson's narrative poem, 1936's Charge of the Light Brigade has the least relationship to the facts concerning the famous 19th century British military blunder in the Crimea. Reflecting the popularity of 1935's Lives of A Bengal Lancer, the film uses the climactic charge as the culmination of events which begin in British India. Errol Flynn and Patric Knowles are cast as cavalry officers who are also brothers; both love Olivia De Havilland, but it is Knowles who wins out (this should tip us off that the rest of the film is pure fantasy). Indian potentate C. Henry Gordon, angered that the British government has cut off his subsidy, stages a revolt against the English settlements. Ordered on maneuvers, Flynn is unable to bring rescue troops to the besieged fort commanded by De Havilland's father. Gordon supervises the slaughter of every man, woman and child at the fort, then leaves India in the company of his Russian advisors. Flynn and his fellow Light Brigade lancers are then transferred to the Crimea--where, as luck would have it, Gordon is now ensconced with the Russians. Thirsting for revenge, Flynn falsifies an official order so that he and the Light Brigade can battle Gordon and his allies at Balaclava (thus are Britons Lord Cardigan and Lord Ragan, the actual instigators of the doomed charge, exonerated). As passages from the Tennyson poem are superimposed on the action, Flynn leads a suicidal charge against the Russians; he manages to kill the treacherous Gordon before being slain himself. Its dozens of historical inaccuracies aside, The Charge of the Light Brigade is rousing entertainment. Animal lovers be warned, however: several horses were killed during the climactic charge, a fact that compelled Hollywood (under the auspices of the ASPCA) to install safer and more stringent standards concerning the treatment of animals. ~ Hal Erickson, Rovi

Few famous novels have been filmed as often as Alexandre Dumas' The Count of Monte Cristo--and few versions are as enjoyable as this 1934 adaptation starring Robert Donat. Donat plays Edmond Dantes, wrongly accused of a plot against the post-Napoleonic French government. Condemned to a prison cell in the impenetrable Chateau D'If, Dantes vows vengeance against the four conspirators who framed him. He is particularly anxious to give his ex-friend Mondego (Sidney Blackmer) his comeuppance, since it was Mondego who married Dantes' fiancee Mercedes (Elissa Landi). Twelve years pass; with the help of ancient fellow prisoner Abbe Foria (O.P. Heggie), Dantes digs his way out of the Chateau D'If and escapes. He finds the treasure of Monte Cristo, which makes him the wealthiest man in the world. He uses his riches to put his plan of revenge into motion, methodically destroying every one of his enemies. Though he lives for vengeance, Dantes--alias the Count of Monte Cristo--has his humanity restored by the love of Mercede, who despite her marriage has always remained spiritually faithful to him. According to publicity, the 1955 TV series based on The Count of Monte Cristo was filmed on the standing sets from the 1934 film. This might well have been true, since both film and series were produced by Edward Small. ~ Hal Erickson, Rovi

In this drama an older actress plays her last role. The aging thespian is terribly depressed and ready to kill herself when she finds out that an older more successful friend has vanished. The missing actress's family is in a real quandry. To help them, the other impersonates the older actress. Loose ends are knitted together and then she admits her ruse. ~ Sandra Brennan, Rovi

The schizophrenic screenplay of The Earl of Chicago is rendered even more bizarre by the uneven performance by Robert Montgomery. He plays Silky Kilmont, a Runyonesque American gangster who inherits a British title (Earl of Gorley) and mansion. Taking charge of his new estate, Silky has an amusing time trying to acclimate himself to the customs of the "landed gentry". Things take a sinister turn when Silky discovers that his trusted attorney Doc Ramsey (Edward Arnold) is actually a bigger crook than he is. In a rage, Silky murders Ramsey, then goes into what appears to be a catatonic shock, refusing to defend himself at his murder trial. Blood finally tells at the climax when Silky Kilmont, aka the Earl of Gorley, meets his fate with a dignity and decorum worthy of his aristocratic forebears. The queasy atmosphere of the film is heightened by its utter lack of romance; outside of character actress Norma Varden, there are barely any women in the film at all. ~ Hal Erickson, Rovi

As the comic relief in What Price Glory?, Sammy Cohen and Ted McNamara were hits. Unfortunately, when the Fox studios tried to feature them on their own, they weren't anywhere near as successful. Wealthy Dick Wright (Gene Cameron) wants to fight in WWI, but he's turned down by both the army and navy because he is a sleepwalker. He decides to join an ambulance unit, and his chauffeur and valet (Cohen and McNamara) go along to protect him. The three of them, however, wind up on a regular troop train and land in France as privates. They get involved in a lot of wild adventures, and the chauffeur and valet happen upon an enemy detachment. By disguising themselves in German uniforms, which fit almost as poorly as their army uniforms did, they capture the enemy soldiers. As a result, they return home as heroes. Cohen and McNamara were teamed a couple more times, including in director Henry Lehrman's When Sailors Go Wrong, but McNamara died in 1928, ending a partnership that was never very successful to begin with. ~ Janiss Garza, Rovi

Universal's "Frankenstein" series descended from the "A" to the "B" category with The Ghost of Frankenstein, though production values were still well above average and the cast is first-rate. The story picks up where Son of Frankenstein (1939) left off, with both the Monster (Lon Chaney Jr.) and his crazed companion Igor the shepherd (Bela Lugosi) being chased out of the village of Frankenstein by the irate citizens (actually both Monster and Igor had been killed at the end of Son of Frankenstein, but that's neither here nor there). The gruesome twosome head to the tiny Balkan community where dwells the son (Sir Cedric Hardwycke) of the original Dr. F. At the urgings of both Igor and the disgraced Doctor Bohmer (Lionel Atwill), Frankenstein Jr. is coerced into repeating his father's experiment of placing a fresh brain in the head of the monster. Seeking vengeance against his enemies, Igor wants to have his own brain grafted into the Monster's skull, but the big lug himself has other ideas: having befriended cute little Cloestine (Janet Ann Gallow), the only person in the village who doesn't fear him, the Monster insists upon receiving Cloestine's brain. In the end, however, Dr. Frankenstein goes with Igor's graymatter-and the result is disaster for practically everyone in the cast. Highlights of this 68-minute scarefest include Lionel Atwill's outraged reaction when he is reminded of the "slight miscalculation" that ruined his medical career, and the uncredited appearances of several "Frankenstein" movie veterans, including Dwight Frye, Holmes Herbert and Lionel Belmore. ~ Hal Erickson, Rovi

Class distinction rears its ugly head in this otherwise tuneful little musical from the pens of Richard Rodgers and Lorenz Hart. Ona Munson plays Julie Hunter, a society belle who falls in love with Hap Harrigan (Ben Lyons), a lowly construction worker. But their different stature in life makes a romance difficult and Julie takes to claiming that Hap is an architect. Slick Clay (Walter Pidgeon), who is in love with Julie, discovers the truth and an angry Hap leaves her after an argument. But Julie is determined and eventually proves that she is perfectly willing to live on Hap's salary. Although Rodgers and Hart reportedly were so disappointed with the outcome of The Hot Heiress that they broke their contract with Warner Bros./First National, there is nothing wrong with their score, which includes "You're the Cats," "Riveter's Song," and "Too Good to Be True." ~ Hans J. Wollstein, Rovi