It's great to see inside Art Deco Broadcasting House soon after it was built. It looks like a set from The Shape of Things to Come, while the male characters all wear faultless evening dress (not changed much since 1900) after six, and the ladies wear the rather frilly and fluffy fashions of the time.It is also illuminating if you are a fan of the detective stories of Ngaio Marsh, particularly Enter a Murderer (set in a theatre). Here we have the still rather melodramatic acting conventions, and a leading lady with a carefully genteel accent who strikes poses and delivers speeches in private life.Stock characters abound: the "silly ass" who gets lost on the way to the Variety show. (He's a terrible bore, though supposed to be funny.) Fortunately he hooks up with Miss Poppy Levene, a wise-cracking chorus girl who is going to get a few diamond bracelets out of him. She really is funny.Val Gielgud as the abrasive producer, explaining that you need to co-ordinate several studios to get "aural ambiance" or some such.The playwright, who is always ready with a Wildean wisecrack, puts literary characters like Lord Peter Wimsey and Inspector Alleyn in the context of their times.The gentlemen are unforgivably rude to "inferiors". As one of the doormen helps the leading actor on with his coat, the thespian snaps "Stop annoying me!" I rather liked Donald Wolfit as the bounder who is snubbed by the rest of the cast - shame he gets strangled so early.We get a good view of the chorus line rehearsing and performing just so that their taps could be heard behind the dance band.

Since having notice my dad pick up an increasing number of TV shows and films from a DVD company called Network,I decided to take a look at movies that the company has released,which led to me stumbling upon a Film Noir murder-mystery set in the-then newly built BBC studios,which led to me getting ready to take a dangerous tour of the beeb's broadcasting house.The plot:Rehearsing a radio play that is to be aired/played later that day,a group of actors find them selves becoming increasingly annoyed with the show's lead producer,due to him constantly demanding the cast to put more "life" into their performance.Being the only actor who seems happy with the way that the producer is treating him, (which leads to the other cast members being even more annoyed) Sydney Parsons enters a sound booth to play the part of the first murder victim.As Parsons begins to read a page in the script that involves his character being killed,a strange pair of hands wrap around Parsons neck,and strangle him to death.Rushing to congratulate Parsons on his amazingly realistic performance,the producer soon discovers that instead of life being brought into the play,a sound of death has been sent across the airwaves.View on the film:Before getting to the movie,I have to mention that whilst the film does have some snap,crackle & Pop,Network have given the 80 year title a clear,crisp picture,and a smooth soundtrack that allows for this deadly radio recording to be fully heard.Opening with a low-lit close up shot of a radio mic,director Reginald Denham gives the movie a frosty Film Noir atmosphere by using close up side angles to create an uneasy feeling of anyone of the cast being Sydney Parsons (played by a very good Donald Wolfit) deadly cast member.Whilst the title does have some nice moments of each cast member being set to stab the other in the back,the screenplay by writer/actor Val Gielgud, (who also wrote the novel that the title is adapted from)Basil Mason and Eric Maschwitz sadly decides to focus on the rather dry inner workings of the studio production,instead of the wonderfully cynical Film Noir aspects,which leads to this broadcast being one that is not played in a prime time slot.

I always give early-1930s movies the benefit of the doubt, and I'm doing so here. An actor working alone in a radio studio room is murdered while reading his lines (in which his character is murdered). Someone in the studio building at the time killed him, but whom? There are only a few possible culprits, and most aren't very well defined characters. A few years later, this probably could have been a very good movie, but it's barely passable here. I suspect much of the appeal of this film when it was released came from the behind-the-scenes look at a working radio studio, with actors in multiple rooms, and orchestra in another, and crew in still others. You even get a song and a dance number, although the appeal of a dance number on radio, including dancers in full costume, escapes me.If you enjoy 1930s crime/mysteries, then this is worth a watch. The detective doesn't define himself particularly well, but the genre plays out reasonably true to form. I gave it a 6 for slightly better than average.

This is really two stories in one. The first is the underlying plot of a murder during a live radio broadcast of a play so that the actual death by strangling of Donald Wolfit (before he became famous), is the real thing. Having been previously castigated by producer Val Gielgud (who actually wrote the film storyline as well) for not gasping properly, he is summoned to be congratulated on his improved performance only to be found stretched out on the floor, dead. There are several plausible suspects who all had the opportunity and motive to commit the crime but the actual culprit seemingly has a cast iron alibi. His unmasking therefore comes as a genuine surprise with the final chase through Broadcasting House bringing about his demise when he enters a door without realising it is a live electricity station. The second story is that of the daily routine in Broadcasting House where we are treated to two top stars of the day, Elisabeth Welch and Eve Becke, delightfully singing to the accompaniment of Ord Hamilton at the piano and Percival Mackey's dance orchestra respectively. Interweaved and connecting both stories is a gormless intruder who goes all over the building in search of the Variety studio, upsetting everyone in the process and also becoming a prime murder suspect. Other people come and go, mischievously signing autographs outside the front door. A gripping film, the only disappointment being that the police inspector never reveals his evidence until right at the end, thus depriving the viewer of accurately guessing whodunit.