Michael Curtiz directed this 1930 very-stylish whodunit from a script by Robert Presnell Sr., Robert N. Lee and Peter Mine. The original novel they adapted was "The Kennel Murder Case", perhaps from a writer's standpoint the best of the Philo Vance mysteries by the strange S.S. Van Dine. Vance was a long-worded and superior detective genius, and his character being assigned to William Powell probably meant the executives at Warner Brothers were aware of the possibility that in less-engaging hands this detective might alienate viewers. Fortunately they assigned suave William Powell first to the character.; later he was played by Basil Rathbone, Warren William, and Paul Lukas before being consigned to "B" picture status.The other question as always with Warner Brothers executives is why they chose Vance as a character; their penchant was to choose men who operated outside the law, with no apparent discrimination between a vicious murderer and a champion of individual rights against all comers. This film has a despicable villain who gets murdered, and a claustrophobically challenging locale inside an apartment complex. The characters are unarguably unusually well-realized, the direction rather good and unusually swift-paced; and except for a darkish B/W look, the film avoids the comedic asides, superfluous characters and irrelevant dialogue characteristic of many early detective entries. Jack Okey did the good art direction. The music by Berhard Kaun is serviceable; Orry-Kelly did the costumes. William Reese provided the mostly-indoor cinematography. In the interesting cast, Powell is THE Philo Vance of his time, mostly sober-minded with just a hint of sardonic humor here and there. Eugene Palette is better than usual playing very straight as an admiring police partner to Vance, with his very professional timing. The other actor who comes off best is handsome Paul Cavangh, very effective as always in what was written as a red herring part. Mary Astor is attractive but at this point in her career she talked a bit too fast to be as effective as she later proved. Also in the cast were Helen Vinson as the villain's woman, Jack La Rue, Ralph Morgan (best known as Frank Morgan's brother), Robert Barrat as the villain everyone has cause to kill, Archer Coe, and Frank Conroy as his likable brother with Robert McWade as the D.A.; quirky and funny Etiienne Girardot has a delightfully witty part as the funny little forensics doctor who comes onto the crime scene. James lee as the abused Chinese servant is excellent and intelligent. The story breaks into four parts. First there is shad doings at a dog show, where Vance, Coe and Cavanagh are all showing West Highland terriers. Cavanagh's dog is killed, by Coe, to prevent him winning the title over his own entry. The second portion of the scene involves a leave-taking; someone is confused enough by who has gone where, after Coe parts from his girl friend, Vinson, to murder his nice brother by mistake. Enter Vance, to find out who did in Archer Coe in a locked room and how, with the help of Palette; the romantic difficulties are straightened out, the Chinese servant is exonerated, we find out who broke the expensive vase, who will marry whom, how Archer Coe was done in and why the butler did not do it--but someone else with a good excuse did. This is a more-than-good little mystery, which skilled Hungarian-born director Curtiz took quite seriously. He used wipes, swift cuts, changes of camera angle and alternations between straightforward and daring camera-work to achieve variety, interest and a sustained pace. Many writers, critics and experts, myself included, consider this to be the best of the Vance projects, although others are estimable as well.