I watched the 1934 film adaptation of Beulah Poynter's DANCING MAN today, and was…not impressed, to say the least, pfft.

Live-blog thread here (as a branch of my live-blog thread about the book, which I finished last night and heartily enjoyed!). #pulp #romance #mystery #murdermystery

An image with the words "Thanks, I hate it" against a very rad, geometric, '80s-style background.

And as if all that isn't bad enough, they throw in an attempted rape/assault during the climax, purely just to up the drama, I guess. 🫠

The murderer is technically the same (though they do change some details/relationships), but the reveal is not NEARLY as satisfying.

What a shit-show.

How can a film w/ only a 63 minute run time feel so LONG? 😮‍💨

A big flaw (aside from the wooden acting and bad editing) is that the film insists on merely TELLING you, after the fact, abt much of the action, instead of actually SHOWING it to you, as the book does. It's such incompetent storytelling.

Not that I'm surprised, but I'm still disappointed they white-washed Mason ("Macon" in the book, and probably meant to be of Latin descent).

Douglas Cosgrove does not match my mental image of Larry Donovan, but his line delivery is the most natural of the cast so far, so—taken on its own merit—his performance is probably my favorite right now. #ThisManBendsAtTheWaist

Those who are more familiar w/ Reginald Denny: Does he always move as if he has a pole shoved straight up his ass? (Did he suffer some injury I'm not aware of? Was his hatred of the material so strong that it manifested as physical stiffness?)

He looks as if he genuinely can't bend at the waist.

It's hard to care about the supposed tension between Paul and Diane (after she effectively breaks up with him, but then has to pretend they're still together), when they showed no romantic chemistry before, and fell in "love" after literally, like, one short scene together.

Diane: "What sort of a place is Rio?"

Paul: "Oh—it's a city. Mm-hm. Oh, a beautiful city. A lot of people think it's an ideal climate to live in. Yes, beautiful weather, and…oh, lots of scenery, and…street-cars, and…coconuts, and—do you like coconuts?"

Scintillating dialogue, here.

Diane: "Paul, what is it you've done that you're ashamed of?"

Me: "Being in this film, probably."

"TAM! Is it a 'gigolo'?" Said with all the intonation of a grandparent trying to use slang with their teenage grand-kid.

Diane (Judith Allen) also has yet to use the nickname "Dads" or smoke a cigarette, so she's quickly falling behind her book counterpart.

All right, it's finally time to watch the 1934 film adaptation of this book, as linked to above!

First impressions: Reginald Denny is way too old for the role of Paul. He was ~42, playing a character who's, like, 25 at most. "Older woman" Tamara (Natalie Moorhead) was 10 years younger than him!

…it over the years (real thought I had: "maybe it could work in a switchel?"; the answer: "no"), and just last week I finally dumped the last inch or two of it I had left bc I knew I'd never be able to make myself finish it.

I have not tried any other brand, for fear the same thing would happen.

…variation of the recipe, using homemade violet syrup and orange blossom water.

Relatedly, I bought a bottle of Rothman & Winter creme de violette three years ago to try it out (it's highly recommended!), and it was one of the nastiest things I've ever had. I kept trying to find uses for…

A thick bed of North American violets, dotted with a few dandelions.

Anyway, it's officially violet season here in Michigan, so it might be time to ressurect my hot take that the classic Aviation cocktail is meant to be light pink (not purple or grey or whatever-the-fuck), due to old-school creme de violette being pH sensitive.

I might also share my…

Sure would be nice if this item I ordered five days ago could actually make it to the post office! 🙃

Still dealing with a migraine (day 4, though it took most of day 2 off, the dear), but got some news that makes the rest of me, at least, feel great. 🙂

Finished DANCING MAN! Very propulsive, with a lot of nice twists and misdirections, as is usually the case with Poynter—truly, she could craft a damn fine mystery, especially when given the long runway of a novel or even novella.

Now to watch the 1934 film and see how it compares. 👀

At the public library she asked for a Bradstreet. She looked up the firm of Macon & Co. It had been founded in 1860! Macon had told her he had married an importer's daughter and had gone into the business with his father-in-law. He had taken his father-in-law's name! She was positive of it.

Or in other words, he had taken his wife's name.

Honestly, good on Macon, if true.

"I've thought of Macon. I'm sorry I didn't get in touch with him right away. He was awfully square. He might—on a chance—lend me money. He's rich." "Shall I go to him?" she asked eagerly, her mind jumping ahead to a scheme. "No, I'd rather you kept out of this as much as possible. And much as I want to see you—as much as just a glimpse of your lovely face means to me—don't come often, dear. It's too depressing." "Oh, Paul." "I mean it. Let me know how you are. Try to be brave, and just keep on loving me." The guard called her again. Perhaps he wondered why her eyes were shining. Usually women visitors [continued in next]

left the Tombs in tears. But Diane had remembered what it was she had to do, and Paul had shown her how she could do it. She was going to see Morton Randal, the investigator, and engage him to discover who had really killed her stepmother. She was also going to visit Arthur Macon, the importer who was to have been Paul's employer and induce him to let her use his name as the one who had engaged the detective.

Not quite as hands-on (yet?) as Alberta from THE BLACK ANGEL, but I do like Diane's determination.

Book vs. Film: The Black Angel He always called me “Angel Face.”  That was his name for me when we were by ourselves.  That was a special thing, from him to me.  He’d bring his face down close to mine and say it low.  He’d say h…

About ⅔ of the way through—Paul has since been arrested, and (as I had hoped/suspected) Diane has stepped into the role of amateur sleuth. The gender-swapping is complete, with a dude-in-distress and a lady detective!

Which makes this a little anticipatory of Cornell Woolrich's THE BLACK ANGEL.

"Cavendish!" she gasped. "What are you doing here?" He brushed his hand quickly across his eyes, and his face became beet-colored. Diane came out from behind the sofa. "I asked you what you were doing in here," she said severely. "You gave me an awful fright." "I came," he stammered—"I came to look at that." He nodded toward the painting. "I—I know I have no right to do it, Miss Trevor—but—I loved her." He flung his head back bravely.

Ooh, shades of THE MURILLO MYSTERY! The chauffeur was in love with the heroine's step-mother!

Diane's face became ashen as she recognized the writing. Her eyes questioned his, then focused upon the dancing letters. "So you intend to get even with me because I threw you over? Just how do you intend to get even? I recall once that you took my white throat between your two hands and swore you would kill me if I ever turned you down. But when the time came you hedged and sobbed like a baby. Threats, old dear, that don't interest me in the least. I have turned you down and you mean no more to me than my stepdaughter's pet Pekinese. It may surprise you, but I intend to stay loyal to Α. Τ. "T."

I had kinda forgotten that Diane had a dog—it only showed up at the very beginning. As it happens, another Pekingese (named "Peewee"!) featured in Poynter's 1937 short story, "The Rivals" (see link). No idea if Poynter ever had a dog herself, but maybe?

lucynka.wordpress.com/pulp-romance...

The Exception | The Point Magazine The director Lois Weber had a habit of signing her films, such that several end with a title card in florid script, “Yours Sincerely, Lois Weber.”

Was looking up something else entirely, and stumbled upon this great essay (by Sasha Archibald) on early female film director Lois Weber. #film #filmhistory #silentfilm #oldhollywood

"Thanks, thanks a lot." He took her hand and pressed it. It was icy cold and trembling, and there was a film of tears in her eyes. "I'd take you home only—" "No, I wouldn't let you, even if the guard outside permitted it. I had a crazy idea of your escaping him in my clothes, but I suppose it wouldn't have worked." He laughed. "It certainly wouldn't. Good-night, Celestine."

Okay, last post for tonight, and I have another crime to report: We were robbed (robbed, I tell you!) by not seeing Paul in drag.

Donovan turned to the chauffeur. "What's your name?" "Sam Cavendish," replied the man. "You informed Mr. Trevor of his wife's death. How did you know about it?" "Miss Trevor asked me to return in half an hour for Mrs. Trevor. I did so. Mr. Drexel told me to come upstairs, that there had been an accident. When I came in, he told me Mrs. Trevor was dead and that he thought she had been murdered and he wanted Mr. Trevor to learn of it from some one beside the police." [continued in next]

"How did Mr. Drexel act when you saw him?" "Calm, I should say." "Did you see the body?" "Yes, sir. Mr. Drexel was anxious I should leave at once, but I went into the bedroom. I was a bit curious, I suppose. I had never seen a murdered person. The revolver was by the door." "You had driven Mrs. Trevor here before?" Cavendish coughed. "Yes, sir. I brought her and Miss Trevor here to-night." "I mean before to-night?" "Yes, sir, several times. And quite often she and Mr. Drexel used the car when they went to cafés or night clubs."

Despite being billed as "a love story," it has now turned full murder mystery.

I wouldn't be surprised if my live-blogging drops off, as I may not want to pause my reading to make a post; things seem to REALLY be picking up now!

At first it seemed to her that the rooms were full of blue-coated men, but there were only three, and also a tall, broad-shouldered young man in plain clothes, his hat on the back of his head, a cigarette in his mouth. He removed his hat when he saw Diane and approached her.

GUYS, THE MURDER HAS HAPPENED AND INSPECTOR DONOVAN HAS SHOWN UP. (⁠✿⁠☉‿☉⁠) (⁠✿⁠☉‿☉⁠) (⁠✿⁠☉‿☉⁠)

Though it would appear to be a different incarnation of him? As he seemingly hasn't aged at all in ten years, and now smokes cigarettes instead of chomping on cigars. #STILL

CHAPTER IX Murder On Fifty-Sixth Street

Chapter 9, about two-fifths of the way in, and we're finally getting the murder! (⁠✿⁠☉‿☉⁠)

Also, not to be confused with MURDER ON 47th STREET, which was the title of a 1931 mystery by her (which was later published in pulp form as "Death In 447," and adapted from her earlier play, ONE-WAY STREET).

For several moments neither spoke. Diane took a cigarette from an enameled box and looked about for a match. Paul produced a lighter. His hand shook as he tendered it.

This is not the first time Paul's hands have been shaky because of nerves, and I kind of love it? It's such an oddly vulnerable detail, especially for the time.

Drexel arrived. His correct dinner clothes accentuated his fineness of feature, his air of breeding. Though he was pale, there was nothing about his manner to indicate the tension that bathed him in perspiration. Both he and the girl were thankful for Tamara's absence. Angus Trevor, after one sharp glance at his guest, and another at his daughter, became an affable host. He spoke of the South American project, inquired into the importer's business and began a discussion of politics that apparently put Paul completely at ease. [continued in next]

During most of the meal Diane remained silent. Every nerve was a-tingle. She felt a grudging admiration for Paul's ease of manner, his conversational ability, though she attributed both to the profession that had demanded such assets as necessary to success. Gradually she realized that Paul was making a good impression upon her father. She had hoped for the contrary. She jerked herself out of a half dream to hear the older man call the younger, "my boy!" She felt an inclination to shriek with laughter at the irony of it.

OH NO, "DADS" ACTUALLY REALLY LIKES THE MAN DIANE IS NOW DETERMINED TO HATE. 😂 #oops

Also, shout-out to conversational skills being recognized as an actual skill.

Trevor turned. "I want to know how long this affair with Drexel has been going on when you met him and how." "Why, Dads, don't you remember two years ago I told you about him?" "It hasn't been going on for two years. Don't tell me that." "No, Dads. Only a few weeks. We met again, quite by accident, and discovered we were in love with each other." Diane's voice faltered and her cheeks flooded with color when she thought of Tamara's eyes upon her. "Hm-m-m. I gave you credit for better taste. But, maybe— The world seems all topsy-turvy these days; maybe a man can remain a man and still be a dancer."

Maybe, dear Dads, maybe! 🕺