Watch The Florentine Dagger For Free

That was an excellent one.

It is a performances centric movie

Actress is magnificent and exudes a hypnotic screen presence in this affecting drama.

By the time the dramatic fireworks start popping off, each one feels earned.

Copyright 1 April 1935 by Warner Bros Pictures, Inc. A Crime Club Picture, presented by Warner Bros Pictures and The Vitaphone Corp. New York opening at the Mayfair: 26 April 1935. Australian release: 8 May 1935. 7 reels. 70 minutes.SYNOPSIS: Who murdered impresario Victor Ballau? His daughter, currently playing Lucrezia Borgia in a play written by a direct descendant of Cesare Borgia (who is himself under treatment for possible schizophrenia)? A psychiatrist who is subject to sudden, unexplained mood changes? A grim, beaten servant, mousily unobtrusive, who admits she was alone in the house with the victim when the murder was committed? A cat-and-mouse police captain who seems too knowingly off-hand? Or a crazy-looking old woman who successfully bids for the murder candlesticks at an auction of the victim's effects? COMMENT: Hecht's novel deals with three sets of dual personalities which are carried over into this moodily atmospheric film version in such a clever manner that we are really never quite sure of the genuineness or sanity of any of the principal characters.In the best performance of his career, Donald Woods, normally a rather wooden and stodgy actor, not only provides an able and ingratiating study but gives his portrait a neurotic intensity that makes it doubly fascinating. Margaret Lindsay too infuses her characterization with a depth and an edge that makes it seem for a time as if the script is about to duplicate "A Double Life". And as for C. Aubrey Smith, how wonderful it is to see this fine actor filling a role worthy and large enough for his brilliant talents. Henry O'Neill excels too, whilst it's great to find Robert Barrat limning an unusual role in a most entertaining balance of comic/dramatic perfection. Florence Fair made only ten or so sound films, all around this period. If this is a fair sample of her extraordinary histrionic gifts, we are certainly looking forward to seeing her again. In addition to drawing these magnificent performances, director Robert Florey has infused the whole film with a beguilingly brooding atmosphere — assisted by some wonderful sets from Grot and Weyl, plus Todd's superlative lighting and camera-work. The script rivets the attention throughout. The sarcastic and dallying dialogue provided to and so expertly delivered by Robert Barrat offers a neat contrast to the Gothic trappings of a fascinating plot.ANOTHER REVIEW: Three suspects in the novel, but each has a dual personality. In solving the mystery, it's a question not only who benefits but which of the schizos did the deed. In translating this to the screen, the writers have made a large number of equally ingenious changes. Florey's direction is most competent. The set designers have wrought wonders. - JHR writing as George Addison.

In fact some of the dialogue is so out there it's actually an asset versus a distraction for this little B mystery film from Warner Brothers. The stars are all good performers, with Margaret Lindsay being a 30's post-code favorite actress of mine. But some of that dialogue - and just some of it - seems like it was produced by title card writers from 1910. I just don't know how Donald Woods and Margaret Lindsay could keep a straight face given some of their campy lines.The story starts with three visitors to the famous abandoned castle of the Borgias in Italy. One is producer Victor Ballau (Henry O'Neill), another is psychiatrist Gerard Lytton (C. Aubrey Smith), and a third is a troubled young man (Donald Woods) who is the last of the Borgias - his namesake is Cesare Borgia to whom he bears a remarkable likeness. The troubled young man, Juan Cesare, attempts suicide to prevent himself from becoming a murderer when he feels the Borgia urge to kill rise up in him. Fortunately his attempt is thwarted by Dr. Lytton. Instead, Juan goes to Vienna where he recovers from his obsessions with his heritage and writes a play for Ballau that is about the Borgias. Juan cannot find the perfect Lucrezia Borgia for his play until he meets Ballau's step-daughter Florence (Margaret Lindsay). The long and short of it is that Victor Ballau winds up dead in his study one night, stabbed to death with one of the Florentine daggers he possesses that once belonged to the Borgias. There are many suspects, and the mystery has many unexpected twists and turns and for that matter, many improbabilities.One of the goofiest and best things about this film besides its campy dialogue is Robert Barrat's performance as Police Inspector Von Brinkner who is in charge of the murder investigation. Von Brinkner's not a threatening kind of fellow at all, and he's given to all kinds of appetite, usually found to be chewing on brie and the finest food he can scrounge when he isn't chewing scenery, or talking to his girlfriend on the phone. However he turns out to be surprisingly competent and generous. Watch and find out what I mean.One thing you'll probably note is the precode ending a full year after the production code went into effect. Again, you'll have to watch to find out what I mean, but I just don't know how the censors let this ending stand as it did.

The Florentine Dagger is a strange little film full of atmosphere, but lacking the acting punch that might have put it over. A story of the curse of the Borgias in modern-day Vienna opens with three travelers (Donald Woods, C. Aubrey Smith, and Henry O'Neill) making a trip to a remote village in Italy where the Borgia castle still stands. The old inn is full of atmosphere and run my strange people (Charles Judels, Rafaella Ottiano). They take a tour which allows the viewer to be given the story of the Borgias' madness and its generational effects. Woods is Casare Borgia, the spitting image of an ancient ancestor (although the name is pronounced Cesar throughout the film). Woods decides to end the madness and orders a drug from the local apothecary. However, Smith (a psychiatrist) intervenes and tells Woods that the potion is fake. O'Neill is a famous theatrical producer. So Smith advises that Woods write a play and purge his Borgia madness. Of course Woods writes a play about Lucretia Borgia, which O'Neill produces. He also casts his "daughter" in the lead (Margaret Lindsay). The play is the talk of Vienna.Woods and Lindsay fall in love, but O'Neill is stabbed to death with one of the three Florentine daggers we had seen displayed earlier. Woods becomes the main suspect because of his erratic behavior and he is, after all, a Borgia. But Lindsay seems a tad off also. And Smith is always lurking. Enter the local inspector (Robert Barrat), a happy fellow who seems totally uninvolved with the murder case and is always receiving phone calls from Julia. Lindsay had left the play in a rush and is jailed on suspicion of murder. But then there is another dagger attack—this time on Smith. That clears Lindsay. Or does it? The police had let her go. Woods and Smith end up at an auction house, following a wigmaker (Eily Malyon) who buys the candle sticks that were found by O'Neill's body. Everyone converges at the wigmaker's shop and the crime is solved. All very tidy and clever. Barrat threatens to steal the film from the more stolid actors, but his character is too unbelievable, especially as he lets the murderer go free! Go figure.Paul Porcasi is a police man, Henry Kolker is the auctioneer, Florence Fair is the weird maid, Herman Bing (who has no part) is the baker, Louise Seidel is his assistant, and Frank Reicher is the stage manager. Woods is boring, Lindsay is miscast, and Smith is relatively subdued. Only Barrat and Malyon seem to have much life. Judels serves as the castle your host, but Ottiano seems irrelevant to the story. Makes one wonder about the editing here as Ottiano and Bing have no reasons to be in the story. And the play is a STINKER!

This 65-minute mystery was part of the Warner Brothers' "Clue Club" series of programmers. Most of these short thrillers are truly unwatchable melanges of slapstick and skullduggery. The Florentine Dagger is a little better, and does keep one's interest with the foggy Viennese (as opposed to foggy London) locations, production values that aren't bottom-of-the-barrel, and a story that involves a descendant of the Borgias. C. Aubrey Smith lends a real whiff of greasepaint to the proceedings. Don't waste your life waiting for this one to roll around, but, if you catch it, you may find it a tolerable way to pass an hour.