Before Charlie Chan became a permanent part of mystery lovers' vocabulary, author Earl Derr Biggers had a different sensation on his hands. In 1913, he penned "Seven Keys to Baldpate," which none other than George M. Cohan quickly snatched up and turned into a spooky Broadway success. Of course, film soon came a-calling, inspiring a considerable number of updates and adaptations through the years. The Warner Archive Collection has assembled a trio of Seven Keys to Baldpate features into one convenient set, but perhaps the biggest twist is that they aren't all the same flick. Plucked from different decades and ranging in tone from the satirical to the sinister, each of these suspenseful treats has its own way of cracking a similar case.

Our sleuthing excursion begins in a 1929 talkie, with Richard Dix headlining as a man on a mission. He plays William Magee, a writer who's accepted a wager to write a 10,000-word story in 24 hours. To do so in peace and quiet, he's taken up residence at the strange and secluded Baldpate Inn, where he quickly gets wrapped up in a bizarre plot involving a missing fortune, malicious hermits, and corpses that just don't want to stay down. Though sound had only been around so long when Seven Keys to Baldpate arrived on the screen, there's no hint of the awkwardness that other mysteries of the era (including the plodding Charlie Chan adaptation Behind That Curtain) had in adopting it. It's been said that this is the closest the movies got to nailing the Cohan play, and I believe it; even with a majority of the action stagebound, the story's wit and attitude keep things remarkably lively. Dix is a perfect fit for his role as the jaded Magee, constantly rolling his eyes at the neverending stream of crazy characters filling the inn (which are admittedly a little hard to keep track of). Seven Keys to Baldpate is everything an old dark house chiller ought to be: a little creepy, a little kooky, and a blast to watch altogether.

The second Baldpate picture on the docket comes to us from 1935. This time, Flying Down to Rio's Gene Raymond takes on the role of Magee, retreating to Baldpate to whip up a best-seller in a day and pay off his creditors. Once again, Magee finds his efforts to get some work done interrupted by shady toughs and damsels in distress, although the answer as to what's going on may not be what you'd think. 1935's Seven Keys to Baldpate is unquestionably the most lighthearted of this triple header. The 1929 version was silly enough, but this one is decidedly more jaunty, as evidenced by the carefree score and increase in one-liners ("Where's the corpus delicti? You can't have a murder without a corpus!"). It's also much less frantic when it comes to shuffling through the supporting players; you have a better idea of what nefarious schemes are afoot, and we even get to see great character actors like Eric Blore and Henry Travers spotlighted in their little parts. This means the plot doesn't flow as fast as it did in the '29 film, but it's still a really fun ride, thanks to a snappy script and Raymond's appropriately cynical performance. This Baldpate is just as entertaining as its predecessor, as generous with its laughs as it is with its bumps in the night.

Last but not least, 1947's Seven Keys to Baldpate arrives as the most serious-minded of the lot. Phillip Terry (The Leech Woman) stars as Magee, and Jacqueline White plays the beauty hired to sidetrack him into losing the writing bet -- only to run into a wrinkle when real jewel thieves shack up at the inn. I'll be honest, this Baldpate loses a little something in trying to be more of a conventional thriller. It's not without its humor; a snarky Magee unknowingly prodding legit thugs is pretty priceless. Seeing Terry play him with more of a cowardly edge is fun, and White's character actually serves more of a purpose than just being one of the resident oddballs. Baldpate doesn't even make for a bad mystery, since Eduardo Ciannelli's turn as the shifty "caretaker" is one of the film's high points. It's just that it comes across as so ordinary and by-the-books, as compared to the bemused light in which the previous two flicks were cast. Pieces of those adaptations still float around here (including the omnipresent, woman-hating hermit), but without as much of a playful spirit behind them, they feel like peculiar additions to a less intense film noir. But this Baldpate still gets the job done, a well-made interpretation that does just fine by its literary roots.

(The Seven Keys to Baldpate Triple Feature can be purchased through the Warner Archive Collection -- www.warnerarchive.com )