"Markham," says urbane gentleman crime-solver Philo Vance (William Powell) to the district attorney, "I'm coming more and more to the belief that Archer Coe was killed in this room. That poker, this dagger sheath, now these fragments...it's all here." "But Vance," Markham says, "do you mean to tell me a dead man walked upstairs?" "I'm not trying to tell you anything but the facts," Vance says. "This is the most remarkable case in my experience."
We're sympathetic. Wealthy, arrogant Archer Coe, disliked it seems by all who knew him, had been found slumped in a chair in his bedroom, pistol in his hand and a gunshot wound to his head. But wait. Further examination shows Coe had been hit hard by a blunt instrument that fractured his skull. Then there's the dagger wound in his back. Complicating matters is that Coe's bedroom door and windows all had been locked from the inside. Coe was no suicide; this was murder. But how could the killer have escaped? What was the specific motivation since there are so many suspects? And why was Coe's brother, Brisbane Coe, found dead in the main-floor closet?
The Kennel Murder Case, now 73 years old, still provides a stylish look at the old locked- room classic whodunit. What makes it work as well as it does is, first, the mystery is complicated and clever, but still is logical. Second, is the amusing, assured performance of William Powell. Consider his work as Philo Vance as something as a rehearsal for his great performances as Nick Charles. Few things escape Vance. He uses his wits to piece things together. He's also good company. Powell was a star in the Twenties and moved steadily upward in status and popularity when the talkies took over. His intelligence, style and effortless sophistication have made him one of the most contemporary-seeming of actors from the past.
Also pleasant is seeing a few other great faces. There's Mary Astor as Hilda Lake, the young, resentful and potentially rich ward of Coe; Paul Cavanaugh as a titled Brit hovering around Hilda; Helen Vinson with her notably sultry and selfish manner (watch her really do her stuff in Vogues of 1938); Etienne Giraudot, a small elderly man as the fussy Dr. Doremus, whose job as coroner and medical examiner keeps taking him away from his meals; and Ralph Morgan as Archer Coe's private secretary. This movie has a high percentage of middle-aged men without an ounce of fat who can wear snug, English-cut tailored suits with ease. Most of all is Eugene Palette, with his noble belly and gravel voice, as Detective Sergeant Heath. Sergeant Heath and Vance are long-time acquaintances who actually seem to like each other.
We're sympathetic. Wealthy, arrogant Archer Coe, disliked it seems by all who knew him, had been found slumped in a chair in his bedroom, pistol in his hand and a gunshot wound to his head. But wait. Further examination shows Coe had been hit hard by a blunt instrument that fractured his skull. Then there's the dagger wound in his back. Complicating matters is that Coe's bedroom door and windows all had been locked from the inside. Coe was no suicide; this was murder. But how could the killer have escaped? What was the specific motivation since there are so many suspects? And why was Coe's brother, Brisbane Coe, found dead in the main-floor closet?
The Kennel Murder Case, now 73 years old, still provides a stylish look at the old locked- room classic whodunit. What makes it work as well as it does is, first, the mystery is complicated and clever, but still is logical. Second, is the amusing, assured performance of William Powell. Consider his work as Philo Vance as something as a rehearsal for his great performances as Nick Charles. Few things escape Vance. He uses his wits to piece things together. He's also good company. Powell was a star in the Twenties and moved steadily upward in status and popularity when the talkies took over. His intelligence, style and effortless sophistication have made him one of the most contemporary-seeming of actors from the past.
Also pleasant is seeing a few other great faces. There's Mary Astor as Hilda Lake, the young, resentful and potentially rich ward of Coe; Paul Cavanaugh as a titled Brit hovering around Hilda; Helen Vinson with her notably sultry and selfish manner (watch her really do her stuff in Vogues of 1938); Etienne Giraudot, a small elderly man as the fussy Dr. Doremus, whose job as coroner and medical examiner keeps taking him away from his meals; and Ralph Morgan as Archer Coe's private secretary. This movie has a high percentage of middle-aged men without an ounce of fat who can wear snug, English-cut tailored suits with ease. Most of all is Eugene Palette, with his noble belly and gravel voice, as Detective Sergeant Heath. Sergeant Heath and Vance are long-time acquaintances who actually seem to like each other.