Green Eyes (1934)

Made in 1934, less than a decade after the introduction of the 'talkie', this crusty old murder mystery makes the most of the relatively new sound technology, being 99.9% talk—which, consequently, makes the film 100% boring.Rather than concentrate on thrills and suspense, Green Eyes is all about the post-murder investigative procedure carried out by Inspector Crofton (John Wray), with a little amateur sleuthing from crime novelist Michael Tracy (Charles Starrett). Theories are bandied back and forth, clues are discussed, and suspects are interviewed at length, none of which is in the slightest bit entertaining.It's a whole load of talk, followed by some more talk, a little chit-chat, a bit of conversation, more talk, even more talk, and then… well, you get the idea. By the end of this film, you'll be wishing that Al Jolson had kept his mouth shut and that the 'talkie revolution' had never happened.

During the 1930s, Hollywood made a ton of murder mysteries. While they continued to make some in the 40s, the 30s was by far the most prolific period--and most of them were B-movies. These Bs had relatively unknown actors, simple plots and usually ended in about an hour...more or less. And, because I love old films, I've seen so many that they're all starting to look the same.Take, for instance, "Green Eyes". It has all the elements you'll find in such a murder film. There is always a know-it-all guy who isn't with the local police--in this case a guy who writes murder mysteries who just happens to be there. There are misdirections galore--with too many folks lying and a supposed suicide to cover up the real murder. The plot is also, at times, too complicated and full of unnecessary details (such as the whole green eyes angle). Not surprisingly, the well-trained professional cops are complete morons. Heck, by watching these films you'd think cops NEVER solved crimes more taxing than jaywalking! And, the film is made entirely of unknown actors. No, none of the film is all that original or all that good, though I did like that they made the writer a bit of a smart-mouth. Worth seeing if you're not yet sick of the genre, but there certainly are similar yet better films out there--such as any of the Charlie Chan films or "Footsteps in the Dark".

Charles Starrett is a writer of murder mysteries who gets involved in—yes, a murder mystery. Nothing too original in Green Eyes, but a fair assortment of suspects and intriguing clues help maintain interest. Once again, it's a murder in a big old house in which nearly all of the film's action occurs. The event which sets the story in motion is the murder of the house's owner, one Steven Kester, during a costume party, and it's quickly established that his guests, his employees and even his granddaughter are not particularly sad to see him go. Even his butler can't find anything nice to say about him:Inspector Crofton: "What kind of a man was Mr. Kester to work for?" Lenox the butler: "He was a Simon Legree, sir. It's been most difficult to put up with him these past 20 years."For the first half of the film, John Wray as the inspector barks out a good half of all the dialog spoken as he rounds up clues and lays out the facts and motives. In the second half, we see more of Starrett as he quietly investigates while more noisily presenting a rather foppish front to most of the group. Shirley Grey and Dorothy Revier, as the two women involved in the case, are given just enough screen time to hint that their characters could contain some interesting depths; but alas, a 70-minute movie holds limited space for developing character studies. Nice touches: the goofy getups sported by the guests in the opening costume party and ensuing interrogation; the "green eyes" of the title; and a clever closing bit with Starrett at his typewriter.

This somewhat less than rewarding production is based closely upon a novel by Harriette Ashbrook: "The Murder Of Steven Kester", to a point of its inclusion of substantial swatches of Ashbrook's stilted dialogue, but since the original book remains safely confined within a rather narrow spectrum of sleuthing utilized by the English writer, it can be no surprise that the film is also dull and generally predictable. Action opens briskly with assistant director Melville Shyer, who also contributes the script, effectively leading a congregation of extras during a lively costume party sequence, this festivity organized at the home of wealthy Steven Kester by his granddaughter Jean (Shirley Grey) as a diversion to facilitate her unobstructed elopement with beau Cliff Miller (William Bakewell). Here the pace of the film begins to flag as journeyman director Richard Thorpe mishandles the tempo following discovery of Steven Kester's corpse, decorated with stab wounds, and a homicide investigation then begins under the supervision of Captain (or Chief, at times Inspector) Crofton (John Wray) who fails to acknowledge any recognizable form of correct investigative police procedures as he browbeats a large contingent of available suspects. Needless to report, many of these latter have apparent motives to have committed the slaying, and if Crofton neglects one of them, a meddlesome crime novelist, Michael Tracy (Charles Starrett), a recurring lead character as "Spike Tracy" in the publications of Ashbrook, is on hand to abet the detective. Viewers, however, will not require similar assistance, due to the story hardly being abstruse enough to challenge most armchair detectives. Production values for this low tier Chesterfield Pictures item are expectedly paltry, but some performances from players are to be valued, in particular a brief turn by Lloyd Whitlock, and neatly developed characterizations from Grey and Dorothy Revier as female suspects. Director Thorpe, ever respectful of his cast members, and especially of those whom are stage trained, leads with a loose rein.