The Mind of Mr JG Reeder season one

 

The Mind of Mr J. G. Reeder was made by Thames Television based on Edgar Wallace’s books and set in the Twenties, the character JG Reeder is a shabbily-dressed, somewhat unglamorous investigator at the Public Prosecutor's office. He is the antithesis of the usual 1920’s hard -nosed investigator and prefers a cup of tea and some cake to anything stronger. His self-effacing exterior masks a sharp mind which allows him an insight into criminal behaviour ahead of his time. In some respects, the story and this adaptation are ahead of their time focussing on deduction based on typical criminal behaviour rather than simply evidence. The role is played by a familiar face in sixties and seventies television, Hugh Burden. It’s unusual for an actor who was essentially a supporting player to be given the lead role in a series, especially one that ran for two seasons but this was, as one contemporary reviewer commented “the part of a lifetime” for him and remains a highlight of the actor’s varied career and he even wrote an episode. There are two seasons, each of seven episodes that last about forty-five minutes each, as they would have been punctuated by adverts. Season one was first broadcast during the Spring of 1969.

Born in 1875, Edgar Wallace was a British writer whose output stretched across several genres including the original script for the classic King Kong. His output was vast and includes plays, short stories, and scripts as well as novels including the sci fi story Planetoid 127 which suggested the concept of mirror Universes, the same idea as parallel worlds or multiverses with which we are now familiar. He was often a controversial author whose vast output and subject matter led to several controversies. A lot of his work has been dramatized including in a tv film series The Edgar Wallace Mysteries which ran from 1960-65.  There are six JG Reeder novels and this tv series wasn’t the first adaptation of the stories. A 1938 film Mr Reeder in Room 13 is based on the first book in Edgar Wallace’s series and starred Gibb McLaughlin in the role as Reeder is called in to investigate forgers. The same novel was adapted in 1964 for a German film simply called Room 13. However, JG Reeder himself isn’t in it which seems a bit like making a version of a James Bond film without 007.  

Season One (broadcast date)
`Treasure Hunt` (23 Apr 1969)
From the start you are taken aback by the levity of the title music. With its banjo led frivolous air and jazzy graphics it seems more like the theme for one of those period dramas about people in large country houses but it is quite purposefully setting the mood. While there are plenty of serous moments, the programme is no dark, brooding detective show, far from it. indeed, the first scenes involving Reeder himself are comedic in tone as he gently rebuffs the enormous breakfast housekeeper Mrs Houchin is trying to get him to consume. The interplay between them might come from a sitcom as he grimaces and winces with her every suggestion and in the end wraps the meal up in a sheet of paper and puts it in his briefcase to dispose of later. Mona Bruce is great fun as the dour Scottish servant while the lightness of touch Hugh Burden brings to these early scenes bodes well even if makes him seem anything but a sleuth. That’s the point though; in fact, he has the appearance of a middle ranking civil servant; there’s a funny scene later when his bosses discuss his appearance yet the point is made that he does get results.

 All this is a surprise after the very first scene in which a woman is throttled at the hands of a be-gloved unseen killer using her own pearls. The nub of the case stems from an anonymous letter that suggests that the recently deceased wife of big cheese Lord Tithermite did not, as is claimed die after falling off a boat but was murdered. We know of course this is true but not the culprit though once we meet the somewhat slimy Lord Tithermite it seems likely it was him. Whwat the episode does is mix this with a former prisoner who aims to take revenge on Reeder for the evidence that got him a three-year sentence. Another gem of a performance comes from John Bennett who plays Lew Kohl with Cockney swagger even though he’s nowhere near as smart as he makes out. The way that Reeder cons Lew into breaking into a cottage having led him to believe he keeps a fortune there so that the body of Lady Tithermite will be recovered allows some more comedic moments. There’s one scene where he is watching Lew who is following him to the cottage, each furtively looking, then hiding.

A big presence in the episode too is Reeder’s boss Sir Jason Toovey played by Willoughby Goddard a sizable actor with the personality to boot. There’s are several scenes where Sir Jason takes the credit and Reeder has to accept it, which he does. You have to admire the way though that in the midst of some big performances, Hugh Burden does his thing with a nuance that the strong direction picks up.

`The Stealer of Marble` (30 Apr 1969)
Though the episode opens with a gruesome murder as a man is seen trapped in a telephone kiosk while some sort of gas is pumped in, the series’ second story is a delightful tale of a missing fortune, the young company boss who has lost it and the loyal employee who stole it. At first the case that gives the episode its title seems somewhat separate from the main story as a woman is found taking marble chippings from a graveyard. Yet it is also tied in with a Poirot like web that is supported by some inventive direction by Kim Mills including some shots from above and even a sideways shot as a character comes down a flight of stairs and a script that accentuates the characters it contains. The incidental music adds more character especially when it is jauntily juxtaposed over a body being stuffed in an oven and burned. Like Reeder himself there is a steel underneath the civil exterior.

Sir Jason comments again that what Reeder needs is the love of a good woman and we see his flustered reaction to a lady he often sees on the train travelling to work. It turns out she is the company secretary for Telfer and as the case twists and turns so Reeder gently tries to help her.  Hugh Burden is excellent throughout, as Reeder deals patiently with Sir Jason, questions suspects and at the end saves the day with a bit of action. The interplay between the actor and others, especially with Willoughby Goddard, is terrific and Burden’s every grimace, faint smile and knowledgeable look is picked up. Its also impressive just how well the series is staged. In this episode there’s a convincing train carriage and a wood panelled entrance hall both of which are only used for a couple of short scenes each.

The script is wittily penned and conveyed.  I’m not sure how much is Edgar Wallace and how much is this episode’s adapter Vincent Tilsley but while some mostly studio-based drama of this period can be sluggish, this series is light on its feet and sometimes deliberately humorous. It’s such a welcome contrast to today’s dour detectives.

`The Green Mamba` (7 May 1969)
An episode that shows off just how far ahead of the criminal fraternity Reeder can be plays out after the opening sequence shows some rare jewels being stolen in an unconventional manner. Yet the theft is not the main driver in a plot that sees Reeder tangle with Mo Liski, a notoriously powerful gangster who has somehow managed to avoid arrest. Sir Jason is disparaging of police efforts to puts Reeder to work to try and obtain a conviction that will stick. In a narrative that spans several weeks we see Reeder managing to avoid each of Liski’s attempts to either kill or discredit him. The story weaves cleverly and though less humorous than the first two episodes leans in on realism of a 1920s underworld.

Joe Melia gives a lot of energy to the role of Liski eschewing the archetypal surly thug by playing him as a chirpy Cockney in a smart suit, a real spiv. Hugh Burden is at his best again here especially when Reeder has to pull back from being pleased with himself. His performance is full of light and shade as he handles both the lighter and heavier material with ease. It’s  a shame that Reeder and Liski only share a couple of scenes as they spark off each other very well. The staging occasionally struggles with the reach of the plot which shifts quickly from one scenario to another though there are some excellent directorial choices with close ups and in depicting the violence. The illegal party also manages to look realistic in a way that such scenes often don’t. With stealthy trickery aplenty the viewer will not be able to guess till the very end how this will play out.

Sheer Melodrama (14 May 1969)
Some of Edgar Wallace’s early books have subsequently been set aside and remain out of print due to perceived racism within their pages which is interesting when it comes onto this episode through which colonial themes run. In the Sixties the use of white actors wearing face paint to become African or Indian characters was still surprisingly widespread- indeed it continued into the Seventies (It Ain’t Half Hot, Mum, The Black and White Minstrel Show). In this stale of two Indians trying to avenge a harsh jail sentence both roles are played in this fashion by white English actors putting on less than convincing accents. The retrospective excuse for this has always been there were not many Indian actors around though the truth is probably that it just didn’t occur to that generation of producers or directors that there was anything wrong with it. After all Othello was usually staged with a white actor in the title role.

So, anyone may choose to skip over this episode which anyway lacks the wit and ingenuity of the first three. In fact, the Indians’ presence does little to move the plot along as the plot struggles to join its constituent parts. The best scenes see Reeder and Margaret Belman nattering at the theatre in a meta conversation about things that happen moments later. And to be enjoyed is Willoughby Goddard’s consternation as he thinks the department will be blamed for a raid that went wrong. Plus, you have unmistakeable nasal tones of a young Ken Campbell playing a relatively regular part. While Reeder’s skills are easy to appreciate the setup of this episode is perhaps too unlikely and as such lives up to its title.

The Strange Case (21 May 1969)
When a considerable sum of money goes missing from the fortune of philanthropist Lord Sellington, his wayward son is seemingly to blame but is he the culprit? It’s an episode that takes a while to rev up with some standard father / son falling out while the son’s estranged wife ends up as Reeder’s secretary. By any standard of storytelling, the coincidence is high yet it does allow the narrative to take some interesting turns. Particularly fun is Sir James’ flustered response to the idea that a high-class woman is working in his office- normally an actor who uses his loud voice to make an impact, Willoughby Goddard pulls some amusing expressions as he tries to talk to her.

The story perhaps betrays the speed with which Edgar Wallace peened these leaving the adaptor Vincent Tilsley to deal with lengthy explanations that don’t always suit a tv show as well as they might a novel. The characters are not as convincing as earlier episodes either; a young Edward Fox rather over eggs the drug addled Harry Carlin while the villain of the piece (no, it’s not the son who took the money) Arthur Lassard is obviously going to be the criminal. When we see him sporting the false beard and hat that he wore to con Sellington’s butler out of the money is so obviously a disguise that would fool nobody. Unfortunately, it also let us know he is the villain slightly too soon.

Visually the series remains rich in period detail with the fog drenched Limehouse contrasting with the Twenties suburban dwelling and Sellington’s wood panelled house. It’s an episode though that needed a bit of livening up to match its look though the final confrontation works well and shows that for all his seeming timidity Reeder can be a man of action too.

The Poetical Policeman (28 May 1969)
Hugh Burden himself takes the helm to dramatize what turns out to be a superbly calibrated episode that plays to all of the series’ strengths. An apparently open and shut case in which a bank manager with a previous conviction appears to have killed a nightwatchman and made to disappear with a large sum becomes a much knottier case when Reeder gets hold of it. Keeping the viewer guessing it relishes the detail so items like a poem or a flower bed become more important than they at first seem. The earlier part sees Burden’s adaptation lean into the levity of the interplay at the office as a new rather carefree secretary Fiona Wentworth- Brown infuriated Reeder and delights Sir James. Reeder’s expressions as he responds to her attitude are priceless as is his reaction to one of the fearsome Miss Houchin’s meals as he lifts the lid and quickly puts it back! 

 Even when the investigation goes deeper the tone is akin to a Sherlock Holmes caper with Burden himself delivering a performance the measure of any well-known Holmes as the case hinges on an ironic delay that means things go badly for everyone. Mike Vardy’s direction too is inventive, making the most of the scenario especially when it comes to a significant conversation between Reeder and Jill Cary’s reserved but simmering Magda. Production values remain high – there are detailed sets for the police cells and canteen which are used for only a couple of scenes.  And it’s rare to watch an investigation series where the crime’s perpetrator turns out to actually have been dead since the start of the episode!

The Troupe (4 June 1969)
Believing renowned Canadian conman Art Lomer and his gang or `troupe` are about to pull off a heist at a rented country cottage, Reeder stakes the place out based mostly on his instinct. This does not sit well with Sir Jason who is annoyed though also somewhat distracted by the latest secretary. Even Reeder’s housekeeper Mrs Houchin warns him that he’ll end up with influenza and he does indeed catch a cold. Though the overall episode is very talky, somewhat slow and rather obviously headed in a particular direction there are some great moments. The attempt by Reeder to start a car is almost slapstick and the office shenanigans involving Sir James trying to avoid staring at the secretary amusing if dated.

The con itself involves some emeralds but it doesn’t really hold your attention though what does again impress is the staging. There’s part of a hotel lobby and also the cottage, all looking very well presented. Though he’s not onscreen for a large portion of the episode as matters occur inside, this episode includes some of Hugh Burden’s most intricate comedic moments that are worth watching for. Guesting Patrick Bedford as Lomer doesn’t make his trickery too obvious though unfortunately the script does- I’d guessed right away that everyone at the cottage was part of the gang.

The Investors (11 June 1969)
The first season ends on a high with this tale of a deadly fraud in which private investors receive a monthly income- but also keep vanishing. The fact the opening scene shows someone buying a coffin for as cheaply as possible suggests hat happens to them. Reeder has already been investigating this as a missing persons case but when Miss Belman reveals she is signed up for it, alarm bells start to ring. Soon afterward she, too, disappears. The episode thus has an urgency to it and suitably suave villain in the form of none other than John Le Mesurier who uses his nonchalance to more chilling effect than usual. The episode has a whiff of The Avengers about especially when Reeder finds Miss Belman imprisoned in a room whose ceiling starts to lower itself to crush them. If the circumstances of their rescue hinges on incredulous coincidence, the sequence is well judge nonetheless with a real attempt to make it dramatic. You do guess that the elusive Mr De Silva doesn’t really exist long before the reveal but the episode builds up the mystery at the right pace.

As ever Hugh Burden is superb and his agitated concern for Margaret played to a tee. Virginia Stride, who’s been recurring through several episodes is a good foil too though the character seems to forgotten the dangers they were in a few weeks earlier! The antagonists are a creepy duo and that opening scene sets the tone for the episode. That said there’s still time for some of Mrs Houchin’s attempts to get Reeder to eat her food and Mona Bruce makes every line she has memorable.

The critical response to the series back in 1969 was reportedly not too good with one article quoting an  assessment of the show being “leaden”, “mindless”, “abject”. It makes one almost reach for that old music paper reader response “Where you watching the same show?”  I found an old review that had been posted online from a publication called the Evening Express which is more complimentary and says the programme has started well and was not so much a whodunnit as a howhedunnit. Hugh Burden himself stood up for the show and also suggested, accurately, that detective fiction as a genre would never die. Whatever the press response a second season was indeed made and would be shown in 1971 (to be reviewed later this year on this blog!)

I also found the text below taken from an article about Hugh Burden published in a 1948 issue of `Picturegoer` magazine.

No Burden to British Films
By George BartramHugh Burden is a definite asset to British films. When Howard Spring wrote Fame is the Spur, he created a lifelike role for a likeable actor in the part of Arnold Ryerson, the friend of Hamer Radshaw. Ryerson is a sincere and humble fellow compared to the power-infatuated Hamer, content with political ambition only. Michael Redgrave played Radshaw in the film and Hugh Burden was his friend Ryerson.  In this shy and sypathetic role, Burden has stolen the kudos from supporting players like Carla Lehmann, Bernard Miles, Marjorie Fielding and Sir Seymour Hicks.  Yet, unless you have followed his career closely, you are tempted to ask, "Who is this sensitive actor with such a great gift of expression?"

There are large gaps in the screen career of Hugh Burden, for in six years he has appeared in only four films, and Fame is the Spur is his first for three years! The three most important years in the career of Hugh Burden were 1913, 1939 and 1941. He was born in 1913 ; he joined up in 1939, and he entered films in 1941. Strangely enough, it was the director of his first film, Sergei Nolbandov, who contacted Burden immediately he was released from the Forces. The director had always admired the actor's stage work and on hearing of his return to the stage, he offered him a part in the film Ships with Wings.

Overwhelmed in a cast which included John Clements, Jane Baxter and Leslie Banks, not to mention the up and coming Michaels, Wilding and Rennie, Hugh Burden managed to hold his own but left no vital impression. It was ironic that although he had been invalided out of the Army - he was an officer in the Indian Army - his first film was a story of the navy, his second a film of the Royal Air Force and his third a memorable Army film. Following Ships with Wings, he made One of Our Aircraft is Missing with Eric Portman and Godfrey Tearle. As a member of the ill-fated aircraft's crew, he turned in a sound performance.

It was in that memorable film, The Way Ahead, however, that Hugh Burden really shone. Remember the tough sergeant of William Hartnell and his band of "rookies", including Jimmy Hanley, Raymond Huntley and Hugh Burden? That frightened rabbit of a man, long suffering clerk to the overbearing Raymond Huntley who blossomed into a courageous soldier, was brilliantly played by Burden. Plaudits for this film were naturally showered on William Hartnell, and the individual performances of the rest of the cast were subdued into the magnificence of the film.

It is a great pity that almost three years were to elapse before Hugh Burden was to make another film. His sympathetic, if somewhat nervous character admirably fits him into a permanent niche in British films. A typical son of the Empire, Hugh Burden was born in Colombo, Ceylon, but he was sent to England at the age of ten to further his education. No mean athlete, he also gained honours in history and French, apart from gaining the L.D.R.A.M. Music is still one of his passions, and he spends much of his leisure time at the piano. After training at the R.A.D.A., it was Ian Hoy who first spotted him and got him his first stage part in The Frog.

Some of his more recent stage appearances have proved him to be one of our most prominent actors. They were in such hits as The Duke in Darkness , The Banbury Nose, While the Sun Shines, and The Years Between. Now, appearing for the first time in a film without uniform, Hugh Burden has given us a performance that abounds in deep-seated sincerity, a quality which is part of his true make-up. Apart from the stage and occasional films, the star is also actively engaged in radio drama.

The marathon plays of the Third Programme particularly claim his attention, but he appears in lighter productions on the Home and Light wavelengths. One of his most brilliant performances in recent months was that of an actor in a Mystery Playhouse production entitled The End of the Play . But while we appreciate Hugh Burden in these mediums of art, it is the film world with which we are concerned. His lapses from the screen, between films, have been too long. With Fame is the Spur he has proved that here is an actor who should not be found wanting in British films.