“Dial M for Murder” (1954) didn’t need to be remade, but since it was – in 1981’s quote-mark-enhanced “Dial ‘M’ for Murder” – it’s illustrative of how brilliant Frederick Knott’s play is. (He also wrote the screenplay for Alfred Hitchcock’s film, and John Gay is credited with this teleplay, but the alterations are mild.)
I figured I’d watch half of it before bed, but I ended up breezing to the end; the story is so magnetic in the way Knott has us thinking about the thought processes of three different characters. The original film popularized and codified the howcatchem genre, leading to TV’s Seventies hit “Columbo,” which turned into occasional TV specials in the Nineties. This NBC TV movie fills in a gap of sorts.
How to catch Christopher Plummer
Although the posters and packaging for the 1954 film feature Grace Kelly, and the love triangle is filled out by Ray Milland and Robert Cummings, it’s John Williams as Inspector Hubbard – the inspiration for Columbo — who I remember.
“Dial ‘M’ for Murder” (1981)
Director: Boris Sagal
Writers: John Gay (teleplay), Frederick Knott (play)
Stars: Angie Dickinson, Christopher Plummer, Anthony Quayle
In the 1981 version – set in Sixties London — Anthony Quayle has big shoes to fill, and he fills them well. But there’s an opportunity here for Christopher Plummer to compete with Milland, and he actually surpasses him. Plummer is a howcatchem villain if there ever was one, with his cultured air and slight natural smirk.
Never going big with his performance, he lets the story twists lead him. Plummer’s Tony Wendice treats his wife Margot (Angie Dickinson) and her friend Max (changed from Mark) (Michael Parks) nicely. But when they are gone, with just as much honey in his voice, he reveals to his blackmailed/hired killer Swann (Ron Moody) his plans for killing Margot.
Gay adds some things that neither hurt nor improve the material. The plot is entirely the focus in Hitch’s film – he knew he had great material and let it shine – whereas Gay spends more time putting characters in distinct boxes. TV movies of the time had less nuance than theatrical films. Margot’s edge is sanded off; she decides to stay with Tony because he’s been nice for the last year, and Max is disappointed but understanding.
The film opens with Max – a murder-mystery writer for TV rather than novels this time – on the set of a shoot. Margot meets him there for the initial conversation, which is stripped off the tension of her husband possibly walking in on them, since they’re not in the apartment.
It’s hitched to Hitch in several ways
Gay and director Boris Sagal tap into a fun trope of 1981, opening with a dark-alley shootout scene that turns out to be a fictional shoot, like Brian De Palma’s “Blow Out.” Coincidentally or not, Dickinson was coming off De Palma’s “Dressed to Kill” (1980), heavily inspired by “Psycho.” I suspect Gay purposely tapped into these meta connections: Later, Margot says she’s not interested in tonight’s TV movie, because it’s a thriller and she’s scared to watch those alone.
Hitch knew big-screen audiences wanted something a little extra, so he opens with a close-up of a phone (Chekov’s Phone, we might say) – unusual in 1954, because cameras couldn’t do crisp close-ups of small items. Therefore, Hitchcock had a giant phone and giant finger built.
He uses an overhead crane shot at one point, and I also recall a shot wherein Tony (not knowing he’s being watched) realizes where the key is and turns around on the sidewalk. Here, Max and the inspector look out the window and describe Tony turning around.
The 1954 film was shot in 3-D, so Hitch showcased that in Swann’s attack where Margot reaches toward the camera for a weapon and finds her scrapbook scissors. The 1981 version is cheaper and has no show-off scenes, although Sagal – a veteran of “Alfred Hitchcock Presents” and “Columbo” – knows what he’s doing.
If you’re gonna remake perfection beat-for-beat, you have to be a little better in some small ways. Plummer is the reason “Dial ‘M’ for Murder” is saved from “Psycho” ’98-style wrath; it’s satisfying to watch the smirk get wiped off Tony’s face.
RFMC’s Alfred Hitchcock series reviews works by the Master of Suspense, plus remakes and source material. Click here to visit our Hitchcock Zone.