‘Murder!’ (1930) is an overly talky early Hitchcock talkie

“Murder!” (1930) is an early example of Alfred Hitchcock’s favorite theme of the wrongly accused person (in this rare case, a woman rather than a man). And on paper it has a compelling plot about a juror who aims to make right his mistake in voting her guilty.

That’s almost enough to recommend this third talkie entry from the eventual Master of Suspense. But surprisingly, he hasn’t mastered talkie filmmaking craft at this point. “Murder!” has far too many single-shot, dialog-heavy stretches, perhaps a relic from the silent era when it didn’t matter if actors flubbed a line.

Technical weaknesses bury important theme

Also, the director eschews multiple takes. I noticed a few instances where an actor flubs a line and it’s partially saved in the style of theatrical acting, but Hitchcock leaves it in there. Perhaps there were budgetary or time reasons for the shortage of coverage and takes, but whatever the reason, it hurts “Murder!”

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The version I saw (the 2007 Lionsgate DVD set of five Hitchcock films) is also hurt by multiple scenes that include both dialog and an additional sound, such as a radio broadcast or a crying baby. It’s impossible to make out the words in these scenes, and this disc does not offer closed captioning. Sound mixing/editing did not exist yet, so that’s almost a valid excuse. But these scenes could’ve been designed without the additional sounds.

Yet the story is strong enough that “Murder!” verges on a recommended rating, and its source material – the 1928 novel “Enter Sir John” by Clemence Dane and Helen Simpson – is worth another crack at adapting. (There is one other example: the German-language film “Mary,” shot by Hitchcock concurrently with “Murder!” But nothing since then.)

11 angry peers

The first act reaches a compelling level with shades of “12 Angry Men” when a thoughtful juror, well-to-do theater man Sir John Menier (Herbert Marshall), is pressured by his 11 colleagues into voting Diana Baring (delicate Norah Baring – yes, coincidentally she shares her character’s last name) guilty of murder.

But it gnaws at Sir John the next day when he’s alone with his thoughts: He believes she is innocent after all. Hitchcock – co-writing with Walter C. Mycroft – starts to get at a notion I imagine many people can relate to. Sir John does the wrong thing in the moment, but he only realizes this later. But the justice system is not set up for him to change his vote.

So he sets out as an amateur sleuth, hoping to uncover new evidence that will earn Diana an appeal. It’s a decent plot, but bizarrely performed by Marshall. We can assume Sir John is racked by guilt and a desperate need to set things right, but Marshall plays it breezily, like this is a fun little side project for him.

Hitchcock’s staging is no help. “Murder!” stops dead in its tracks in a long scene in Sir John’s office where he chats with friend Ted Markham (Edward Chapman), plus Ted’s extraneous wife (Phyllis Konstam). The couple resides upstairs from where the murder was committed.

That’s followed by another interminable scene wherein Sir John wakes from his overnight stay at the home of a police officer, I think under the guise of learning about a policeman’s daily life for the sake of theater research. This indecipherable scene (due to the crying baby) finds a cat and a half-dozen kids crawling over our protagonist in a massive whiff at humor.

Making it right

Thankfully, that scene eventually ends and then we’re in the home stretch, including a strong jail-cell sequence wherein Diana tells Sir John she’d rather be hanged than endure a life of imprisonment. He asks Sir John to lock himself in his room for just one day and see how he can stand it. This is a powerful statement about something that’s underexplored in moral discussions of justice – the inhumanity of locking people in cages. Might it actually be more humane to execute them?

The whodunit is confusing, but at any rate, Sir John and Markham find a likely suspect. Although it’s uncomfortable that part of the explanation for the killer’s motive comes from this person’s status as a half-breed, I understand that 1930 was a different time.

Esme Percy is good as Handel Fane, an actor and trapeze artist who specializes in playing women in roles actresses were generally not asked to play, I guess due to ideas about their delicate nature.

The “12 Angry Men”-esque jury room sequence also features compelling turns, including one borderline mentally challenged juror. In this sequence, “Murder!” has something to say about the pressure to go with the majority even when you – when your brain is allowed quiet time to think – know you are in the right. In many life situations, you can laugh off bouts of mob mentality, but in some situations it can lead to disaster, as this story demonstrates.

Thanks to the circumstantial evidence of overlong dialog exchanges and weak sound balancing, “Murder!” earns a verdict of not being good. There’s almost a good movie here, though. Maybe I’ll rethink my vote tomorrow.

RFMC’s Alfred Hitchcock series reviews works by the Master of Suspense, plus remakes and source material. Click here to visit our Hitchcock Zone.