Word: whodunit
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Dates: during 1960-1969
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Although Jacques Prevert's script unfolds the details of a murder, it is very unlike a conventional whodunit. The title of the film assigns guilt, the crime itself does not occur until very near the end, and Lange confesses to the first man he sees. Renoir spends the bulk of his time painting a genre scene of one small area in the Paris printing district. Life flows hectically between the publishing house of Batala and the streets. Renoir's photography seems to tear away the facades of buildings and to make the entire fauborg one stage. A fine example...
Naked Edge (Pennybaker-Baroda; United Artists), the whodunit that is the late Gary Cooper's last picture, is a waste of a good man. As a buildup, the film's promoters have decreed that large red lights shall flash outside theaters for the last 13 minutes of each performance to warn curiosity-maddened customers that all attempts to storm the box office during that period will be repulsed. But like the Maginot line, the fortifications work only one way; there is no provision to withstand charges from customers already inside the theaters who want...
...Manhattan, a tax appraisal of the estate of prolific Whodunit Author Mary Roberts Rinehart, who died in 1958, revealed that crime can indeed pay. Despite gifts over the years to charity and her family that totaled approximately $2,000,000, Mrs. Rinehart's net estate was $658,461, of which $38,400 was bequeathed to relatives and employees, the remainder to her three sons...
What Krebiozen is, or even whether exists, has been impossible to establish by impartial analysis because of another whodunit circumstance. In early 1951 Ivy and Durovic were worried about the stuff's keeping qualities. Somebody mentioned casually that perhaps it would keep better in oil. Straightway, Durovic dumped his whole supply into light (pharmaceutical grade, No. 9) mineral oil. The dilution is so great that the presence of the drug can no longer be proved. And of course its chemical composition was smothered under the gusher...
...Frontier? This whodunit is essentially a whydidit. The man who delves into the twisted personality wreckage of the past is the stodgy self-effacing ("I am something of a square") narrator of the novel to whom Mason Flagg was a prep-school idol. Complicated flashbacks reveal that Mason Flagg is something of a heel, the hybrid product of a $2,000,000 trust fund and an incestuously possessive mother. By his 205 he is braining his wife with stray crockery, and swapping bedmates at Greenwich Village parties that Author Styron stops teasingly short of describing...