Haunted Honeymoon (Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer) introduces cinemaddicts to the smartly foppish, irreverently whimsical activities of Detective Lord Peter Wimsey (Robert Montgomery), long adored by readers of British Crime Fictioneer Dorothy Sayers. Diving into the middle of his career, the film finds Lord Peter wedded with Harriet Vane (Constance Cummings), a mystery novelist whom he once rescued from a murder charge. On a honeymoon in a cottage in rural England, they are pleasing each other with glib, well-tailored wisecracks when the body is found in the cellar.
From then on. Haunted Honeymoon, called Busman's Honeymoon by Author Sayers, occupies itself principally with whether or not Lord Peter will continue his merry vacation or pause long enough to straighten out the befuddled police. While a medley of thick British accents, swelled by the rasp of slinky Robert Newton, spouts fluffy repartee, Lord Peter is exposed to all the ramifications of the mystery. Inevitably, he makes the gracious gesture, effortlessly unravels the dilemma, whisks his bride off in a roadster to quieter surroundings.
Constantly British, Haunted Honeymoon politely reflects none of the troubled atmosphere in which it was concocted. When the Denham studios near London, a temporary food storehouse, were cleared for normal duty early last spring, Director Arthur Woods took time off from his duties as an R. A. F. pilot to conduct his actors through their capers. Cast and crew were threatened with Nazi bombing by Lord Haw-Haw three days after shooting commenced, but struggled through unmolested, paused only for BBC newscasts in a projection room thrice daily.
With work completed, Montgomery sallied to France where he put in three weeks driving a Red Cross ambulance. Back in the U. S. he became Hollywood's foremost authority on World War II. Three weeks ago, he vexed Hollywood with the jibe that "any resemblance between the motion-picture industry and creative art is purely coincidental."
Seven Sinners (Universal) is top cut for fans who like rum, rowdyism and rebellion in their movies. Beginning and ending the film with a pair of extemporaneous Armageddons. slight, dapper, grey-haired Director Tay Garnett, Hollywood's specialist in mayhem, spent $19,580 of Universal money on:
> Thirty stunt men at $35 a day for eleven days of continuous brawling.
> Twenty-four broken tables at $15 apiece.
>Seventy-two broken chairs at $10 each.
> A smashed bar, pool table, staircase, worth $3,000 in all.
>Spoiled clothing amounting to $2,000.
> Two special stunts—a fall from a balcony, a leap through the air that ends by smashing a bar—at $250 each.
>Two semi-special stunts—falling from a staircase, a long leap—at $200 each.
> Eight mediocre leaps at $100 each.
> Twenty-five run-of-the-mill falls at $50 each.
> Unexpected damage: a bruised shoulder on a $200 stunt man, concussion of the brain for Broderick Crawford after a flower pot broke on his head.