That dude in the background may be the biggest mystery of all.
I think Meet Nero Wolfe (1936), an early foray into the sub-genre of eccentric detectives who care not to leave their homes, had some potential to it. The lead character comes off as someone who recognizes the rules of society, and plays off them with a certain zest that I found charming. His assistant, Archie, may be a little bit too much of the standard dull assistant, much like the classic Dr. Watson of Nigel Bruce’s creation, opposite Basil Rathbone, but Archie’s insistent fiancee has her charms, and the balance of the cast, which is rather large, is nicely differentiated by purpose and actor; too often, I find such characters blend into a blur.
The plot, too, has some lovely twists to it. For example, suggesting a heart attack was caused by a poison dart fired from a golf club was quite lovely, while on a different note, having a police interview with Wolfe run entirely on his terms takes us off the standard slog through the usual and tired interview quite into something else – a look into how Wolfe manipulates, with the best of intentions, those in authority. I thought that it was, although a trifle labored, a clever bit.
But the film comes off a little flat. Scene segues, well, they’re not any, which has the result of peppering the film with staccato scenes that don’t necessarily make intuitive sense.
But, and more importantly, the lack of truly empathetic characters hampers the movie. Wolfe is a creature independent of real human relationships: he wants his beer, good food, his orchids, and the cash to continue procuring the first three. And little black books to fill with accounting notes. His assistant, Archie, is a little bit too much of a dimwit, and his fiancee does little to help. The other characters, while believably having their own lives, are too sketchy for a good connection – and, in any case, unlikely to show up in sequels.
We enjoyed this for what it was, but it wasn’t as good as perhaps it could have been.
