This movie is the proof that the world is becoming a sick and dumb place

Please don't spend money on this.

if their story seems completely bonkers, almost like a feverish work of fiction, you ain't heard nothing yet.

The story, direction, characters, and writing/dialogue is akin to taking a tranquilizer shot to the neck, but everything else was so well done.

A distinguished cast (including a pre-horror stardom Vincent Price as a police inspector!), a clever "voice recognition test" sequence, and some plot surprises make "Moss Rose" worth your while, although it's quite slow-moving and somewhat derivative. The mystery resolution has some daring psychological implications. **1/2 out of 4.

Various internet sources state that the film "Moss Rose" was based on the Joseph Shearing novel, "The Crime of Laura Sarelle." This is simply not true as any reading of that novel will clearly show. The 1947 film "Moss Rose" was based on the 1934 Joseph Shearing Novel, "Moss Rose." And although the film plot varies greatly from the novel, the basic story is quite similar and many of the same character names were used in the film. The novel was based on the 1872 murder of a London prostitute, well before Jack the Ripper appeared on the scene.Incidentally, Joseph Shearing was one of many pen names used by Marjorie Bowen (another pen name) who was born Gabrielle Margaret Vere Campbell and later married Arthur L. Long. She wrote many thrillers, romances, and novels of the supernatural, all under various pen names.In any event, the film "Moss Rose" exudes Victorian/Edwardian atmosphere and suspense and is well worth watching. Truly, they don't make them like this any more.

Moss Rose is directed by Gregory Ratoff and adapted to screenplay by Niven Busch, Jules Furthman and Tom Reed from the novel The Crime of Laura Saurelle written by Joseph Shearing. It stars Peggy Cummins, Victor Mature, Ethel Barrymore, Vincent Price, Margo Woode, George Zucco, Patricia Medina and Rhys Williams. Music is by David Buttolph and cinematography by Joseph MacDonald. Somebody is killing Michael Drego's (Mature) lovers and leaving behind a bible and a compressed dried moss rose. When her dancer friend is one of the victims, Belle Adair (Cummins) thinks she knows who the killer is and sets about blackmailing him for an unusual request... British set Gothic noir pulsing with maternal pangs and whodunit shenanigans, Moss Rose has much to recommend to the like minded adult. Lets not beat around the bush, though, motivations of the principal players are decidedly weak and the police fare little better in the brain department. However, once one settles into the atmosphere brought out by MacDonald's (Niagra/Pickup On South Street) beautiful photography - and got tuned into Cummins' brash London accent - then it can sustain interest. It's more successful as a mood piece when out on the London streets than it is at the Drego mansion, though the period design of costuming and sets is most appealing. Mature often came in for some stick for his acting, but I have sometimes thought much of it was unfair. Here though he is not quite right for the role, it feels like what it is, a name on the poster to draw the punters in. But his performance still works on sombre terms, besides which, Cummins and the wonderful Barrymore pretty much dominate proceedings anyway. Price fans should note that he isn't in it much, and even then it's late in the picture, but he's suitably stylish and you can't help thinking he probably should have had the Michael Drego role instead! Meanwhile Ratoff (Black Magic) directs without fuss and histrionic filler. An enjoyable ride with visual treats along the way, with a finale to nudge you to the edge of your seat. 7/10

It's that smudge of fog called London under the reign of Victoria. When a music-hall dancer is murdered, a moss rose marks the page of a Bible next to her body. Luckily, another chorus girl (Peggy Cummins) saw a gentleman (Victor Mature) leaving the lodgings. She approaches him directly, saying she'll go to the police if he doesn't meet her demands, but he brushes her off contemptuously. When he learns she's dead serious, he tries to buy her off with a thick wad of pound notes. But it's not money she's after; all she wants is two weeks at his country estate, living the life of a `lady.'And here Moss Rose, which has taken its time working up a head of steam, branches off onto a new siding. The estate contains not only Mature, his fiancée (Patricia Medina) and his formidable old dowager mother (Ethel Barrymore), but also a greenhouse where out-of-season moss roses bloom.Apart from a few Eliza-Doolittle faux pas, the classes do not clash. Barrymore, in fact, extends Cummins a matey welcome; even Medina tries to put aside her understandable jealousy. The only apple of discord falls when Cummins strays innocently into Mature's boyhood rooms, which Barrymore preserves as a secret shrine.Cummins finds the pastoral scene (`You'd expect to see a calendar pasted under it!' she exclaims) lives up to all her expectations. Thrown together, Mature has thawed markedly towards Cummins, and she towards him. But their idyll comes under siege with the arrival from London of bumbling Scotland Yard detective and amateur horticulturist Vincent Price, still investigating that pesky homicide. Soon there's another murder, another Bible, and another moss rose....An old-dark-house costume drama akin to My Name Is Julia Ross or The Spiral Staircase, Moss Rose finds its strength in its actors rather than its direction (by Gregory Ratoff). While Mature stays four-square and Price unctuously fey, Barrymore predictably grande-dames it to the hilt. Cummins is lovely and quite good as a Cockney diamond-in-the-rough, but leaves nothing like the impression she would two years later as Annie Laurie Starr in Gun Crazy. An air of the contrived lingers after Moss Rose, more faded than pungent, but it's cozy and reassuring, too.