Miracles for Sale

The Thirties were racing towards their close, accompanied by a curious speeded-up style of film dialogue, as though the writers were being paid by the word. These flat, metallic exchanges are suitable enough for wisecracks, but they kill any sincerity in lines that are meant to carry emotional depth. So for example, the film opens on Robert Young (later to be your favourite TV doctor Marcus Welby) putting the case for exposing fake mediums in order to protect genuine seekers after psychic truth. He sounds like more like an auctioneer at a meat-market.

This was the last film to be directed by Tod Browning, who exploits his own early experience in the circus by replicating all manner of smoke-and-mirror spectaculars that can hold the attention of audiences who may have been left somewhat behind by the intricacies of the plot. But a conference of magicians is always going to make a good start to a murder story.

It was Browning who had also directed the first Dracula talkie, and he brings in touches of it here, notably in the casting of Gloria Holden, previously of Dracula's Daughter, whose disdainful manner was believed to reflect her genuine boredom at appearing in movies she felt were beneath her. But her disdain manages to suggest mystery, and we are kept wondering whether this glamorous medium will be unmasked before the end. Glamour of a more conventional kind is provided by Florence Rice as the vulnerable blonde at the mercy of sinister dark forces. They say there were also some dark forces in the studio, claiming that it was only her well-connected father who got her the roles, apparently blighting her career.

One joke that certainly wouldn't be allowed today - a haunted skull moving its jaw up and down ("Obviously a woman!"). And a good disciplined performance by a fortyish William Demarest as the regulation sceptical cop.