Producer: Michael Balcon. A Gaumont-British production. Not copyrighted in the United States, but released by Gaumont British: 24 May 1934. New York opening at the 55th Street Playhouse: 23 May 1934. U.K. release: 16 December 1933. 67 minutes.
SYNOPSIS: Crooked financier attempts to silence a critic on board the steamer from Dover to Calais.
COMMENT: Handicapped both by rather obvious make-up (which shows up because of director Milton Rosmer's annoying penchant for constant close-ups) and the necessity to affect a studied Dutch accent, Matheson can do little with the central role. He tries, but his efforts are too stagey to engage audience interest. The part really needs a charismatic player like Charles Laughton. True, the hero played by the mercilessly dull Anthony Bushell is even less successful.
A further annoyance is provided by double-talking Max Miller whose comedy routines, short as they are, play with all the bounce of a punctured tennis ball. Edmund Gwenn tries to cheer things up, but overdoes the act. Constance Cummings is fair enough, but alas, she is rather unflatteringly photographed and costumed.
Oddly, this is a movie in which the very minor players — Stoker, Patch, Warren, Plumb — come off best. And fortunately, this floating Grand Hotel does have its general mise-en-scene and nostalgia values to recommend it as well.
A pity the scenario editor didn't take the shears to some of that talk, and that director Rosmer made no attempt to force the pace. Although always competent and occasionally even striking, Rosmer's direction is leisurely and actor-indulgent to a fault.
SYNOPSIS: Crooked financier attempts to silence a critic on board the steamer from Dover to Calais.
COMMENT: Handicapped both by rather obvious make-up (which shows up because of director Milton Rosmer's annoying penchant for constant close-ups) and the necessity to affect a studied Dutch accent, Matheson can do little with the central role. He tries, but his efforts are too stagey to engage audience interest. The part really needs a charismatic player like Charles Laughton. True, the hero played by the mercilessly dull Anthony Bushell is even less successful.
A further annoyance is provided by double-talking Max Miller whose comedy routines, short as they are, play with all the bounce of a punctured tennis ball. Edmund Gwenn tries to cheer things up, but overdoes the act. Constance Cummings is fair enough, but alas, she is rather unflatteringly photographed and costumed.
Oddly, this is a movie in which the very minor players — Stoker, Patch, Warren, Plumb — come off best. And fortunately, this floating Grand Hotel does have its general mise-en-scene and nostalgia values to recommend it as well.
A pity the scenario editor didn't take the shears to some of that talk, and that director Rosmer made no attempt to force the pace. Although always competent and occasionally even striking, Rosmer's direction is leisurely and actor-indulgent to a fault.