mark.waltz That Czechlosovakian skating bombshell known as Vera Hruba Ralston is headlined in this murder mystery with a skating background, but other than having been in the victim's apartment some hours before and supposedly blackmailed, she really doesn't do much. Along with four other women (Helen Walker, Nancy Kelly, Ann Rutherford and Julie Bishop), she's trying to dig up clues to clear herself, but is definitely guilty of being one of the biggest non-actresses of the 1940's and 1950's, a title that the expanded to of the 20th century as time passed. Husband and Republic studio chief Herbert Yates was the Irving Thalberg to her Norma Shearer, as well as the William Randolph Hearst to her Marian Davies. Unlike Norma and Marian, however, Ralston was never a box office star; In fact, she was rather unpopular, and few of her films are available commercially.Still, no expense was sparred in trying to make her a star, and the budgets of her films are pretty impressive for coming from a second rate studio. This isn't a challenging role for her to play, and when husband Yates insisted on serious roles for his wife, the results are rather laughable. A skating number with her in Roman/Greek costumes is lavish looking but staid. William Marshall is handsome but bland as the beau helping Ralston. The women in the supporting roles come off better, although in these circumstances isn't tough to do.

Alex da Silva Ice-skating headliner Vera Ralston (Lila) is being blackmailed to quit her show and team up with ex-partner Edward Norris (Carl). Norris is stabbed and dies after a meeting with her and Ralston is in a sticky situation. Her current boyfriend William Marshall (Don) sets about solving the mystery.We are introduced to a cast of characters and one of them is a murderer. The cast are fine in this story set in a music-hall environment. We get to watch some ice-skating performances which is pleasant enough - nothing too special - while the story develops between performances. I must give credit to these girls who run around and chase after clues within their own appearances within the same show! Wow. Anyway, the film is a murder mystery that starts to go off the rails a bit when we focus on the 'blind man' character. At this point, the audience just wants to wrap up the proceedings - just tell us who did it. Unfortunately, the sound quality of the film is poor.

Spikeopath Murder In The Music Hall (AKA Midnight Melody) comes out of that bastion of the B movie special, Republic Pictures. It's directed by John English (many Gene Autry Oaters) and the screenplay is adapted from an original story written by Arnold Phillips & Maria Matray. It's stars Vera Hrubá Ralston (Hoodlum Empire/The Fighting Kentuckian), William Marshall (Belle of the Yukon/Adventures of Captain Fabian), Helen Walker (Nightmare Alley/Brewster's Millions) and Nancy Kelly (Jesse James/Stanley and Livingstone).A smashing little murder mystery musical picture that positively oozes old fashioned values. Tho made in the mid 1940s, this very much feels like a 1930s production, which in all honesty is no bad thing at all. With the dramatic moments involving crime and clues accompanied by loud bursts of music (Walter Scharf), and dialogue such as "what the blue blazes is going on," it has all the necessary ingredients to cater for the classic movie fan. The story is a solid one too. A dastardly stab in the back murder of an ice show producer sees the Rockette type ice dancers of a popular Music Hall show become suspects. As the police start to sniff around, Lila & Don (Ralston & Marshall respectively) do their own amateur sleuthing. With only a glove clue to go on, the need to find a blind man seen in the vicinity of the crime becomes critical.It's here where the film then ups its drama. With one darkened room meeting between our intrepid sleuths and a blind man being memorably noirish. Up till then it had blended snazzy musical ice dance routines with bubbling under the surface intrigue. At first it's an odd mix, one where after the first blast of jauntiness one wonders if it will be possible to accept the upcoming dramatics, but it does work, in a sort of lulling us into a false sense of security type manoeuvre. Besides which, the numbers and choreography are pleasing on the eye, particularly when involving Ralston, a real life figure skater for her home country of Czechoslovakia. And to cap it all off we got some decent red herrings and the final reveal is not at all insulting. The cast are safe and without histrionic ham, with the beautiful Kelly the standout performer. While English knits it all together in a professional manner.An enjoyable multi genre splicer breaking free from its budget restrictions with much success. 7/10

sdiner82 Along with virtually every Republic Picture ever made, "Murder in the Music Hall" seems to have undeservably faded into oblivion. A shame, because this lusciously produced, expertly directed and written, and crafty mystery-suspense item spins an enticing whodunnit thriller against the setting of Radio City Music Hall. A murder in one of the building's posh penthouse apartments casts suspicion on the luscious Rockettes--among them, Vera Ralston (who besides giving an appealing performance of subtlety and vulnerablity, provides a few dazzling ice-skating production numbers), Helen Walker, Ann Rutherford, Julie Bishop, and several other delectable B-movie starlets of the '40s. Tall, blond and handsome William Marshall (usually cast in musicals) hunts down the killer as the complex and increasingly creepy plot unfolds, against the swankiest settings you'll ever see in a film noir. The ending is as much of a surprise as is this sadly forgotten, classy murder mystery. Well-worth restoring and reviving on cable-TV, VHS or DVD. Republic sank a hefty budget in this Grade-A production, and "Murder in the Music Hall" is as slick, unnerving, and immensely enjoyable as any of the major studios' films of its era. POSSIBLE SPOILER: Pay attention to the rhapsodic song composed by the victim just before his death. Then, amidst the showgirls' incessant chattering in their dressing rooms, try to pinpoint the one humming that fatal melody. You'll discover who the killer is just as William Marshall does. Grand fun, the kind of movie they truly don't make anymore, and what a loss--both to movie-goers and actors alike.