SYNOPSIS AND CAST LIST: Who killed Steven Kester (Claude Gillingwater), one of the meanest, grouchiest misers in Massachusetts? It has to be one of the guests at a midnight masquerade party, hosted by his daughter, Jean Kester (Shirley Grey). Perhaps the novelist hero, Bill Tracy (Charles Starrett)? Or Jean's pretty boy Romeo, Cliff (William Bakewell)? Or the millionaire's secretary, Pritchard (Alden Chase)? Or the secretary's lovely wife (Dorothy Revier)? Or the tycoon's housekeeper, Dora (Aggie Herring)? Or his butler, Lenox (Elmer Ballard)? Or his former partner, Hall (Arthur Clayton)? It's certainly not loud-mouthed Inspector Crofton (John Wray). Or the inspector's amiable offsider, Regan (Ben Hendricks, junior), or one of his uniformed motorcycle policemen (Frank Hagney), or the medical examiner (Frank LaRue). Nor the banker (Edward Le Saint), broker (Robert Frazer), chemist (John Elliott), lawyer Howe (Lloyd Whitlock), nor a guy named Raynor (Edward Keane), because their roles are too small. Director: RICHARD THORPE. Screenplay: Andrew Moses and Harriette Ashbrook. Based on the 1931 novel The Murder of Steven Kester by Harriette Ashbrook. No film editor credited. Photography: M.A. Andersen. Art director: Edward C. Jewell. Music director: Abe Meyer. Assistant director: Melville Shyer. Sound recording: L.E. Clark. Producer: George R. Batcheller. A Chesterfield Production, shot at Universal Studios.Copyright 14 June 1934 by Chesterfield Motion Pictures Corporation. No recorded New York opening. U.S. release: 15 June 1934. U.K. release through Gaumont British: 22 December 1934. Never theatrically released in Australia. 7 reels. 67 minutes.NOTES: Starrett's 26th of 166 movies.COMMENT: Harriette Asbrook's novel attracted a fair amount of critical attention back in 1931. Not that there was anything remarkable about the routine plot, the stereotyped characters or the drawing-room dialogue. (Best line is the hero's put-down to the police captain who describes him as a novelist: "I'm not exactly a novelist. I write detective stories.")What Miss Ashbrook did to break ground in the mystery field was to develop a plot capable of two different but entirely tenable solutions. These two scenarios are both entirely compatible with the facts. It's not until the last pages of the novel that one is eliminated and the other proved beyond doubt. The movie version muffs these opportunities. Mind you, the novel ran to a mighty 812 pages. Andrew Moses was forced to make drastic cuts to condense it down to 67 minutes.Fortunately, the players do somewhat come to the rescue. Claude Gillingwater easily steals the limelight as the surly Kester. We likewise enjoyed Ben Hendicks' ingratiating study of Wray's amiable assistant, and Arthur Clayton's nicely relaxed, pleasurable ease as the main suspect. Starrett is interesting too, as the buttinski writer, and Miss Grey makes a viable heroine who confounds the mold by not making so much as a single glance in our hero's direction. Inspector Wray, however, gets on our nerves a bit with his two limited styles of dialogue delivery: — loud and extra loud.Director Richard Thorpe has valiantly tried to give this over- long talk-fest a bit of pace, but is stymied by the almost total lack of action. Nonetheless, by the humble standards of Poverty Row, production values are reasonably glossy.

Cops investigate a costume party murder in a rich man's mansion.Thoroughly routine whodunit, despite the promising opening scenes. Not surprisingly, it's one of the type popular in the 30's, when amateur sleuths out-sleuthed the professionals. Here it's Charles Starrett as a novelist figuring out the clues before the cops do. But at least the screenplay doesn't turn the head cop into some kind of buffoon as often happened in these 30's programmers.Now I'm used to seeing Starrett with a six-gun and Stetson giving the bad guys a hard-eyed stare. So, seeing him here as a loosey-goosey lounge lizard in alpine shorts took some getting used to. But he does liven up the acting, which otherwise tends toward the dull side. Still, that last scene in the lethal bedroom stands as a real grabber of staging. Too bad the rest of the movie doesn't show a similar level of imagination. (In passing—Am I mistaken or does Starrett look like an early version of Rock Hudson.)

The body of millionaire Steven Kester is discovered murdered in the closet by the guests at a lavish costume party being held at Kester's stately country mansion. It's up to shrewd and sarcastic crime novelist Michael Tracy (a spirited and likable performance by Charles Starrett) to figure out the identity of the killer. Director Richard Thorpe, working from a witty and compact script by Andrew Moses, relates the absorbing story at a brisk pace, maintains a firm sense of taut narrative economy throughout, and further spices things up with a pleasing sense of sassy humor (Tracy's barbed exchanges with the police are especially sharp and amusing). Moreover, the able cast play their parts with real zest: Starrett's lively acting keeps the picture humming, the fetching Shirley Grey brings tremendous appeal to her role as Kester's feisty grand daughter Jean, John Wary is suitably gruff as the hard-nosed Inspector Crofton, and Dorothy Revier does well as the touchy Mrs. Pritchard. M.A. Anderson's crisp black and white cinematography makes neat use of fades, wipes, and dissolves. A hugely enjoyable item.

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".