DRUMS OF JEOPARDY (1931) is a quite rare and quite early sound film of horror and mystery much in the tradition of pulp magazines and "Perils of Pauline"-type serials. It also has more than a whiff of those "yellow peril" movies featuring pigtailed assassins hurling silver hatchets-- only this time the threat from the east is not Chinese but refreshingly Russian so the film is mercifully free of overt 1930's racism. Rather than tong assassins, the fog is infested with bolsheviks and deposed Russian princes. The feel and tropes of such fog-bound Fu Manchu menace is also underlined by the presence of leading actor Warner Oland: the Swedish actor who for years had specialized in villainous Orientals before finding his greatest fame as venerable Chinese detective Charlie Chan. This time, however, he's a revenge-seeking Russian mad doctor named -- get this -- Dr. Boris Karlov! Now, one is tempted to think that the character was named after a rather famous horror actor but one would probably be wrong. Not only was DRUMS OF JEOPARDY made and released several months BEFORE Boris Karloff made such a splash in James Whale's FRANKENSTEIN but also DRUMS OF JEOPARDY is in fact a remake of a 1923 silent version starring Wallace Beery as the murderous Karlov. The character's name coinciding with the King of Horror's stage name seems to be just a whim of fate.

THE DRUMS OF JEOPARDY, as you've no doubt already surmised, is gloriously old-fashioned not just in its early-talkie primitiveness but also in its early-20th century pulpiness recalling Sax Rohmer's Fu Manchu as well as countless pulp magazines like BLACK MASK and WEIRD TALES. However, the film is not painfully creaky in its execution; director George B. Seitz was a famed maker of countless silent serials and he manages to keep the camera moving more than most films of this vintage -- in fact, he even manages a few very interesting camera angles such as a sky's-eye view down onto a ship's gangplank which, at first glance, gives the viewer the feeling of creepy-crawly things before realizing the figures are merely humans filing off a boat. Dr. Boris Karlov's revenge scenario (which is the whole crux of the movie) begins when his daughter attempts suicide over the caddish behaviour (unspecified) of a member of the Russian princely Petrov family. It isn't revealed at first which Petrov has "compromised" the girl but she eventually dies from her suicide attempt. The only clue found by the fuming Dr. Karlov is the famous jeweled necklace known as "the drums of jeopardy" which was stolen from an eastern empress by an ancestor of the Petrov family. Karlov, in a rage, confronts the old Petrov patriarch and his 3 princely sons (Nicholas, Gregor & Ivan) and attempts to kill them all with a gun. As he is taken away, Karlov vows revenge by threatening to use the curse of the "drums of jeopardy" against the Petrovs: if the jewels of the necklace are sent to a Petrov separately, that Petrov will die. Don't ask why -- this is pulp land we're visiting.

Years later, after the Russian Revolution has ousted the aristocracy, the Petrov men are sailing for America to enlist the help of U.S. Secret Service agent Martin Kent (Hale Hamilton). One by one, each Petrov receives a piece of the necklace and meets their grisly end at the hands of Karlov and his henchmen. Karlov's main henchman Piotr, in fact, is played by famous Russian character actor Mischa Auer. Piotr, mascarading as a US agent working for Martin Kent, talks the Petrovs into leaving the ship secretly for their safety. Of course, old man Petrov and one of his sons Prince Ivan meet their deaths. The other two princes, cowardly Gregor (snivelling Wallace MacDonald) and virtuous Nicholas (square-jawed Lloyd Hughes) escape the evil Russian assassins. Unfortunately, a bullet creases Prince Nicholas' forehead and he stumbles into the studio apartment of Kitty Conover (June Collyer) and her dotty Aunt Abbie (Clara Blandick) at 2 A.M. At first, Kitty pulls a gun on the interloper but soon falls for the handsome, wounded man and helps him call Martin Kent. Aunt Abbie, in her curlers and corset, goes out on the street to find a doctor. Unfortunately, the dotty old girl walks right into Mischa Auer's Piotr who brings Dr. Boris Karlov right to Prince Nicholas under the guise of a doctor. Before Karlov can plunge a hypodermic into the prince's arm, Nicholas fights him off as Martin Kent arrives. Karlov and his villainous henchmen are chased out into the foggy night guns blazing.

The Petrov brothers are smuggled to Aunt Abbie's house in the country but they are followed almost immediately by Karlov's assassins who creeps around in the dark outside the mansion while thunder and lightning crashes all about. Various skullduggery is perpetrated by Karlov's minions and various guards are picked off in the house. Martin Kent is even captured and taken to an old watermill which serves as Karlov's secret headquarters. Nicholas, now totally in love with Kitty, tells Gregor that they should leave the house because they're endangering the women. Aunt Abbie decides that she's going off into the night to get help (since the telephone lines have been cut). Gregor takes the old lady aside and gives her a note to give to Karlov (if she happens to be captured) which he says offers to give himself up if the mad doctor will leave the others alone. Unfortunately, the cowardly Gregor is lying; the note actually offers to tell Karlov who caused his daughter's death in exchange for saving his own cowardly skin. Aunt Abbie is, of course, nabbed before she manages to get 10 feet away from the house and Gregor is soon before Karlov betraying his own brother Nicholas. Disgusted with Gregor's cowardice, Karlov murders the coward with a poison gas he's just whipped up in his laboratory.

Karlov nabs both Prince Nicholas and Kitty as locks them in the old mill; the mad doctor gives Nicholas a knife and tells the prince that he must kill Kitty with it. . . if he doesn't, when Nicholas is dead Kitty will be left alone with Karlov and his minions -- implying that she will face a fate "worse than death". Visions of slavering Russian assassins gangbanging Kitty dance through Nicholas' (and the viewer's) heads as the two lovers are left alone with a candle Karlov has hung burning at both ends! By the time the candle has burned out, Karlov will return to carry out his nefarious purposes. Nicholas, however, spots some loose stones in the wall and plans to dig his way out of the cellar using the knife. Unfortunately as Nicholas dislodges a stone, tons of water start pouring into the cellar -- just as Karlov has planned to cause their deaths all along.

Warner Oland as mad Dr. Karlov is actually quite restrained; he does not demonstrate a "moustache-twirling" villainous performance which you may expect from this type of movie. Oland remains coldly evil throughout and, in fact, doesn't act like a "mad" doctor at all -- only one bent on revenge for the death of his daughter. Mischa Auer is also very low key as the evil Piotr. It is, in fact, rather surprising not to have teeth-gnashing villains in a film of this kind. June Collyer is also thankfully not insipid as our imperilled heroine Kitty Conover; she does a minimun of cowering (considering what usually can be found in such a role at this time period) and is fairly appealing. Lloyd Hughes as our romantic hero Prince Nicholas is suitably square-jawed and handsome but does occasionally display an expression which leads one to believe he may be constipated! Truthfully, there's not much that can be done with such a bland role where the villains provide all the interest. Unless, of course, you're talking about comic relief provided by crotchedy Clara Blandick as Aunt Abbie. Unlike MOST comic relief characters in 30's movies, Blandick isn't annoying at all but quite endearingly crusty. Whereas most films of this vintage feature cringingly bad comic relief, Aunt Abbie is actually fun and reveals a strong backbone as she tells off Dr. Karlov in no uncertain terms. Karlov says he is flattered when Aunt Abbie tells him she's been waiting to get at him for a long time. "Well, you won't be so flattered," snaps Abbie, "you'll be FLATTENED when I get through! I've been itching to give you a piece of my mind!" And Abbie does so -- reducing the villain to near silence! "And mark my words, my man," Aunt Abbie barrels ahead as she is literally dragged from the room by a couple henchmen, "You'll end on a scaffold yourself -- with your samovars and your vodkas and all your rotten vices! All I've got to say is I never DID like caviar! Or your Russian dancers squatting down on their hind legs running a mile and getting nowhere!" "Take her away!" laughs Karlov, "She annoys me!" Aunt Abbie even bashes one of the assassins with her umbrella and calls him a "vulgar boatman"! Truly good stuff! Of course, Clara Blandick will forever be known for portraying Dorothy's Auntie Em in the 1939 classic THE WIZARD OF OZ before eventually committing suicide in real life due to ill health. Wallace MacDonald is nicely slimy as the wretched and cowardly Gregor while Hale Hamilton is stodgy and unremarkable as special agent Martin Kent -- a character which SHOULD be dashing but instead is totally forgettable. The fun of the film, of course, arises from every scene being shot at night through dense fog or lightning flashes while deadly Russian assassins constantly lurk just out of sight. There are plenty of menacing shadows on walls and window shades as well as windblown curtains and flickering candles through dark hallways. The film itself looks like it had a fairly large budget; it doesn't look shoestring at all with many impressive sets ranging from the Russian palace of the Petrovs to an ocean liner to Aunt Abbie's sprawling "old dark house" and Karlov's old mill. In fact, as early 30's mystery/horror films go, this one looks rather sumptuous. Typically, there is no musical score to speak of; the soundtrack is filled with theatrical-sounding sound effects of thunder (rattling metal sheets) to whirling wind (which sounds like someone dragging a sheet over a clothesline) -- very unrealistic but theatrical effects which demonstrate just how early in the talkie business this film represents. Decidedly old-fashioned with theatrical acting styles exhibited by half the cast -- featuring long dramatic pauses between lines or silent movie dramatic gestures -- THE DRUMS OF JEOPARDY still manages to be one of the better examples of this kind of early 30's horror film which, when viewed sympathetically, can still manage to entertain. DRUMS OF JEOPARDY stands as a good example of old-fashioned, theatrical Hollywood still coming to grips with the new medium of sound -- before they made the next step towards the more realistic, less stagey cinema to come.