Moss Rose (1947)

A distinguished cast (including a pre-horror stardom Vincent Price as a police inspector!), a clever "voice recognition test" sequence, and some plot surprises make "Moss Rose" worth your while, although it's quite slow-moving and somewhat derivative. The mystery resolution has some daring psychological implications. **1/2 out of 4.

Moss Rose is a good example of sometimes less is best. Without a complicated and tedious storyline, this neatly plotted 1947 mystery thriller moves at a fine pace, holding ones interest until the end. Thanks to Peggy Cummins who excels in her resplendent performance of the Cockney chorus girl who cleverly blackmails her way into an upscale English manor. Victor Mature is suave as the blackmailed , suspected murderer along with the airy Ethel Barrymore playing his doting mother and the grand matriarch of the manor. Vincent Price's role is small but he is quite capable as the polite but persistent Scotland Yard detective who has a predilection for moss roses. This intriguing Twentieth Century Fox drama is set in the Victorian era and the costumes and sets are well done along with the foggy London and English country scenes do well to enhance the atmosphere. I don't want to write a synopsis of this film and give away the surprise ending to the reader, but will say , Moss Rose still holds up well with any thriller film from it's era. If you are a fan of this genre , try to catch a look at this one. You will be pleasantly captivated by the fetching Peggy Cummins.

Moss Rose is directed by Gregory Ratoff and adapted to screenplay by Niven Busch, Jules Furthman and Tom Reed from the novel The Crime of Laura Saurelle written by Joseph Shearing. It stars Peggy Cummins, Victor Mature, Ethel Barrymore, Vincent Price, Margo Woode, George Zucco, Patricia Medina and Rhys Williams. Music is by David Buttolph and cinematography by Joseph MacDonald. Somebody is killing Michael Drego's (Mature) lovers and leaving behind a bible and a compressed dried moss rose. When her dancer friend is one of the victims, Belle Adair (Cummins) thinks she knows who the killer is and sets about blackmailing him for an unusual request... British set Gothic noir pulsing with maternal pangs and whodunit shenanigans, Moss Rose has much to recommend to the like minded adult. Lets not beat around the bush, though, motivations of the principal players are decidedly weak and the police fare little better in the brain department. However, once one settles into the atmosphere brought out by MacDonald's (Niagra/Pickup On South Street) beautiful photography - and got tuned into Cummins' brash London accent - then it can sustain interest. It's more successful as a mood piece when out on the London streets than it is at the Drego mansion, though the period design of costuming and sets is most appealing. Mature often came in for some stick for his acting, but I have sometimes thought much of it was unfair. Here though he is not quite right for the role, it feels like what it is, a name on the poster to draw the punters in. But his performance still works on sombre terms, besides which, Cummins and the wonderful Barrymore pretty much dominate proceedings anyway. Price fans should note that he isn't in it much, and even then it's late in the picture, but he's suitably stylish and you can't help thinking he probably should have had the Michael Drego role instead! Meanwhile Ratoff (Black Magic) directs without fuss and histrionic filler. An enjoyable ride with visual treats along the way, with a finale to nudge you to the edge of your seat. 7/10

It's that smudge of fog called London under the reign of Victoria. When a music-hall dancer is murdered, a moss rose marks the page of a Bible next to her body. Luckily, another chorus girl (Peggy Cummins) saw a gentleman (Victor Mature) leaving the lodgings. She approaches him directly, saying she'll go to the police if he doesn't meet her demands, but he brushes her off contemptuously. When he learns she's dead serious, he tries to buy her off with a thick wad of pound notes. But it's not money she's after; all she wants is two weeks at his country estate, living the life of a `lady.'And here Moss Rose, which has taken its time working up a head of steam, branches off onto a new siding. The estate contains not only Mature, his fiancée (Patricia Medina) and his formidable old dowager mother (Ethel Barrymore), but also a greenhouse where out-of-season moss roses bloom.Apart from a few Eliza-Doolittle faux pas, the classes do not clash. Barrymore, in fact, extends Cummins a matey welcome; even Medina tries to put aside her understandable jealousy. The only apple of discord falls when Cummins strays innocently into Mature's boyhood rooms, which Barrymore preserves as a secret shrine.Cummins finds the pastoral scene (`You'd expect to see a calendar pasted under it!' she exclaims) lives up to all her expectations. Thrown together, Mature has thawed markedly towards Cummins, and she towards him. But their idyll comes under siege with the arrival from London of bumbling Scotland Yard detective and amateur horticulturist Vincent Price, still investigating that pesky homicide. Soon there's another murder, another Bible, and another moss rose....An old-dark-house costume drama akin to My Name Is Julia Ross or The Spiral Staircase, Moss Rose finds its strength in its actors rather than its direction (by Gregory Ratoff). While Mature stays four-square and Price unctuously fey, Barrymore predictably grande-dames it to the hilt. Cummins is lovely and quite good as a Cockney diamond-in-the-rough, but leaves nothing like the impression she would two years later as Annie Laurie Starr in Gun Crazy. An air of the contrived lingers after Moss Rose, more faded than pungent, but it's cozy and reassuring, too.