Calling Dr. Death (LeBorg 1943)

For the record, I never had any intention of turning reviews of Lon Chaney Jr./Universal Studio films into an ongoing series, much like I have never really had any specific plans for this site overall. But here I am again, this time looking at the film Calling Dr. Death (LeBorg 1943), and much like Man Made Monster (1941), Calling Dr. Death is not a particularly great film.

That said, the film is a significant departure from the Chaney Jr./Universal films previously reviewed on the site, with Calling Dr. Death being a mystery rather than a horror film. The film is based on the radio series Inner Sanctum Mysteries which ran from 1941-1952, featuring stories of murder, horror and suspense. Coincidentally enough, I listened to an episode of the series a month or two ago, and the program certainly has its charms, with a spooky-but-campy atmosphere, and some fun host banter to bookend the episode. Unfortunately, none of those charms are on display in Calling Dr. Death. The film is a straightforward mystery, directed by Reginald LeBorg in a perfunctory manner from a screenplay by Edward Dein.

The film concerns psychologist Dr. Mark Steel (Chaney Jr.), a man trapped in a loveless marriage to a woman who is openly having affairs with other men while refusing Steel a divorce. Steel’s frustrations are only exacerbated by the romantic feelings shared between him and his nurse Stella (Patricia Morison), who is seemingly his only confidant. One weekend, Mark discovers his wife has taken off, and he heads out to find her. When he wakes up in his office Monday morning, he discovers that he has no memory of the weekend, and that his wife has been brutally murdered. While his wife’s lover is the prime suspect, Mark is convinced of the man’s innocence, because Steel is convinced that he himself is the murderer. With no evidence however, Steel sets about trying to solve the crime and save the man, even if it means revealing himself as the killer in the process.

There is nothing about Calling Dr. Death that is particularly interesting, including its failings, which are little more than the typical problems with most murder mysteries, from an easily deduced killer, to giant plot holes and lapses in logic. If the film has a problem that is particular to itself, it is the use of voice over to convey the “voices” in Mark’s head. Along with being overused, the voice over never successfully conveys the idea that Mark is suffering from any form of psychosis, as the bulk of it is little more than Mark moaning on about how pathetic he is. He may be slightly depressed, but there is never any indication from the voice over that Mark is truly suffering from any serious mental issues.


If there is anything fascinating in the film at all, it is mainly the work of star Lon Chaney Jr., who continues to astound me as I work my way through his films for having a star image that is completely defined by weakness. In every film I have watched Chaney Jr. in thus far, the characters he has played have been essentially powerless men, unable to take action and constantly at the mercy of others. As Mark Steel, we see Chaney Jr. playing the weakest character I have seen him take on yet, accomplishing little and being attacked from all sides. Unfortunately, this does not make for a particularly fascinating character, and since there is no doubt from the beginning as to whether or not Mark is or is not guilty, it is impossible to care about anything that happens over the course of the film.

Calling Dr. Death is only available as part of the “Inner Sanctum Mysteries” DVD collection from Universal, the remaining films of which I have yet to review. On its own, I cannot recommend the film as a worthwhile dip into the Universal catalogue, and as a start to the series, Calling Dr. Death does not hold out much promise for the rest of the films to come. Still, with five more films to go, we shall see if the “Inner Sanctum Mysteries” film series improves, and has any cinematic value as a whole.

Surveillance (Lynch 2008)

Jennifer Chambers Lynch’s 2008 film Surveillance is a rather slippery little film. It really isn’t a mystery, yet it is structured like one; it is a narrative film, yet the narrative is almost entirely irrelevant; it is a film that is all about observation, yet ironically it is a film which works against the audience needing to be observant. Surveillance is a paradox, one which is as frustrating as it is rewarding.

Surveillance tells the tale of two FBI agents (Bill Pullman and Julia Ormond) who arrive at a police station in the middle of nowhere. Three individuals have just survived a run in with two serial killers being hunted by the FBI, where their family, friends and partners have been slaughtered. One survivor is a police officer (Kent Harper), another is a drug addicted young woman (Pell James) , and a little girl (Ryan Simpkins). Each one tells their side of the story, under video surveillance. Yet, what is really being observed as these tales are told?

As noted earlier, Surveillance is a film which is structured like a mystery, complete with a “twist” reveal in the latter third of the film. However, the mystery itself is almost entirely solvable from the time the film begins. While normally this would be the sign of bad screenwriting and directing, I don’t believe that this is the case here. Lynch has crafted a world in the film which is deliberately cartoonish, populated with characters who lack any psychological depth, and who run entirely upon impulse, revelling in their excesses. This approach works entirely counter to the very concept of mystery, which is rooted in the hidden and obscure. This contrast between genre and style is the crux of the film’s overall critique: the loss of depth and complexity in a mediated world. This is a world of wannabe liars and con artists, incapable of effectively hiding who they are, because they do not need to. Everyone is too wrapped up in their own immediate gratification to be observant of anything, or anyone, around themselves. As such, the idea of a mystery has lost all meaning.

Given this subject matter, the tone of Surveillance is appropriately ironic and darkly comedic, making it no surprise that the performances from the cast are appropriately humorous and unsettling. In fact, the cast of the film is one of the stranger ensembles I have seen in a film, with more dramatic actors, such as Pullman, Ormond and the always great Michael Ironside mixing it up with known comic actors French Stewart and Cheri Oteri among others. While I wouldn’t call the performances from the cast here as being the best any of them have done (well, maybe Oteri), Lynch does manage to keep them all on the same page, walking the fine line between comedic and horrific.

However, despite the film’s complexities and engrossing intellectual challenge, I am honestly not sure how well the finished work stands as a cinematic experience. The catch of the approach Lynch takes to her film is that it works against the film as much as it does for it. In structuring it as a mystery, Lynch forces the viewer to have to sit through the motions of a mystery that there is no real investment in. Due to this, the film runs longer than it really needs to. I can help but think that Surveillance would have worked better as a short film rather than a feature, where its approach would have carried more punch and not dragged as much as it does.

In fact, I am not entirely sure Lynch knew how to conclude the film either. After awhile, the film feels like it is searching for the proper point for which to end, never really finding it. It simply runs out of material rather than finding the right material, and becomes intent on wrapping up as many loose ends as possible, even though such efforts are unnecessary.

Still, Surveillance is worth seeking out. It is a flawed film, but a fascinating one as well, skilfully playing with our perceptions of the mystery genre and with our understanding of media. While it might leave those expecting a traditional mystery thriller cold, for those willing to make the effort to grapple with its complexities, there are many rewards to be found.

Sherlock Holmes (Ritchie 2009)

The funny thing about Guy Ritchie’s 2009 film adaptation of Sherlock Holmes is that the film reminds me of the stories of a different fictitious detective rather than Arthur Conan Dole’s creation. Structurally and in terms of focus, the film seems oddly more emulative of Peter Faulk’s immortal Columbo, in that the emphasis is on watching the detective solve the case rather than the case itself. Well, Columbo, mixed with a bit of James Bond, a dash of buddy comedy, and a hint of Captain Jack Sparrow quirkiness. Together, it makes for a light, fun little film that, while not going down as a definitive interpretation of the character, is worthy of seeing in a theatre.

The film is set at a point when the relationship between Sherlock Holmes and Dr. Watson (Robert Downey Jr. and Jude Law) is undergoing change, as Watson is set to marry and work as a private doctor, leaving Holmes on his own. However, this change is delayed when it turns out their last case isn’t quite as closed as they thought: Lord Blackwell (Mark Strong), who practices dark “magic” and was caught for a series of sacrificial murders by Holmes and Watson, mysteriously disappears from his grave after his hanging. Has Blackwell returned from the dead, and if so, for what reason? Holmes and Watson race to find the answers.

The odd irony of Sherlock Holmes is that, for a film in which the titular character reminds those he works with (and hence, the viewer) of the need to pay close attention to the details, the viewer themselves really don’t need to. The film doesn’t particularly have any depth to it, mining contemporary issues of terrorism, fear and failed leadership more for exploitation’s sake, rather than exploring the issues in any depth. As for the mystery, putting aside the fact that it is mostly solvable right from the get go without any detailed clues, the important information is only doled out in a manner that allows Holmes to give a drawing room explanation of events towards the film's conclusion rather than giving an audience a chance to piece together the mystery themselves, if the mystery was hard to begin with.

However, I am hard pressed to take the film to task for these points, as the film works wonderfully as an entry in the “buddy cop” subgenre, with everything that the subgenre has become well known for: homoerotic undercurrents, playful bickering between the lead characters, and the rivalry with other officers, etc. The Victorian setting and utilization of the famed detective duo add just enough freshness to the proceedings to prevent the staleness of more recent entries in the genre, and forcing the filmmakers to get innovative with traditional elements such as the car chase and the 1980s favourite cliché, the industrial sector set fight (the factory replaced here by the boat yard).

Of course, a buddy cop film is only as great as its buddies, and the film is blessed with the talents of Downey Jr. and Law. The two share an excellent comic rapport, avoiding the pitfalls of other buddy comedies by dodging overacted moments of conflict for more restraint. Downey in particular walks the fine line between crafting a real character and going into caricature with skill, grounding his peculiarities rather than allowing them to overtake his character. Law, with the less flashy role of Watson, manages to imbue his character with more of a boyish joy than is traditionally seen with Watson. He is responsible without becoming stoic, letting the viewer in on the fact that Watson really does get a level of fun out of the situations he finds himself in.

Oddly enough, director Guy Ritchie may have found a perfect fit for his style of filmmaking with Sherlock Holmes despite his history of modern set gangster fare. While Ritchie has crafted some great films before in the gangster epics Lock, Stock and Two Smoking Barrels and Snatch, his attempts at “weightier” fair have thus far fallen flat. Revolver was a fascinating mess of a film, filled with interesting ideas but little idea of how to execute them, and the less said about his remake of Swept Away, the better. While I applauded ambition, Ritchie at heart is a slick action director with a fascination with the sometimes disreputable members of British society. Sherlock Holmes, with its Victorian setting and status in popular culture, allows Ritchie to play to his strengths without indulging his lesser excesses. Even his stylistic flourishes have been toned down, giving them more impact when they do appear.

Where the film does falter to a degree is with its supporting cast of characters, few of whom are particularly fleshed out. As traditionally seems to happen with the buddy film, the female characters are pushed to the margins with little to do. Rachel McAdams as Irene Adler, Holmes love interest, serves more as a plot device than as a well thought out character, which is all the more apparent when it is discovered that her reason for being in the film is to set up a potential sequel rather than functioning in the narrative of the film proper.

Still, Sherlock Holmes comes highly recommended. My one recommendation for the next outing, which looks to shoot this summer, is that they should hire Shane Black to work on the script. As anyone who has seen his film Kiss Kiss, Bang Bang can attest, the man not only knows how to write fantastic dialogue, but can craft a complex mystery with the best of them. And since he has worked with producer Joel Silver and star Robert Downey Jr. on that film, I would hardly think that it is outside the realm of possibility.