CHARLIE CHAN AT THE WAX MUSEUM (1940)

Based on the testimony of detective Charlie Chan, Steve McBirney is sentenced to death for murder, but he manages to shoot his way out of the courthouse and vows to get revenge against Chan. He heads for Dr. Cream's Museum of Crime, a wax museum with statues of infamous criminals, because Dr. Cream has a secret career: performing plastic surgery to give new faces to fugitive criminals. Meanwhile, for a radio show broadcast from the museum, Chan meets with Dr. Von Brom to debate the Rocke case. Rocke was put to death for a poison dart murder based on testimony from Von Brom, but Chan maintains that Rocke was innocent and the real killer was his partner Butcher Dagan, who was supposedly killed but might still be around. As the time of the late night broadcast nears, folks gather at the museum joining Chan, Von Brom and Dr. Cream, including Lily Latimer, Cream's assistant; Tom Agnew, the radio host and director; Edwards, an engineer; Mary Bolton, a reporter who is also dating Agnew; Carter Lane, a lawyer for Rocke's widow; and a simpleminded old watchman. We see a mysterious woman sneak in whom we suspect is Mrs. Rocke, perhaps come to see justice done for her husband. Finally, Chan's snooping #2 son Jimmy shows up to help his dad, though he mostly just gets in trouble. We see that Chan is being set up to be electrocuted at the debate table but Von Born gets it instead—except that on investigation, it's discovered that his death was actually caused by a poison dart. Could Butcher Dagen be among them?

This entry in the Chan series from 20th Century Fox is a notch above the norm. One reason is the effective setting of the shadowy wax museum at night. After the courtroom opening, the rest of the film is set solely in the museum and plays out mostly in real time. As in most wax museum movies, the statues provide a nicely creepy atmosphere and can also be mistaken for real people, and vice versa. A storm outside and flickering lights inside add to the eerie ambience. The dark single setting also helps hide the B-movie budget. This was the first Chan film with a running time of about one hour, and most of the rest would follow suit, indicating lower budgets and lower exhibition expectations. Sidney Toler and Victor Sen Yung are old hands by now as Chan and Jimmy, though Jimmy is an exceptional doofus here, and the supporting cast is so-so, the standouts being C. Henry Gordon as Dr. Cream and busy character actor Marc Lawrence (who kept acting into the 21st century) as McBirney. Marguerite Chapman and Ted Osborn are adequate as the romantic couple, as is Michael Visaroff as Von Bron. Hilda Vaughn doesn't have a lot of dialogue but has the right look for the mysterious lady trespasser. The exposure of the ultimate villain was a surprise to me, but the Chan films were not known for truly playing fair with clues or background information. As you might predict, there is a wax statue of Chan which, of course, gets mistaken for the real person at least twice, including in a fun final shot in which Jimmy gives his dad a good swift kick in the rear, thinking he's kicking the statue. Pictured are Gordon and Toler. [DVD]

YOUNGBLOOD HAWKE (1964)

We first see young Arthur Hawke in late December, working as a coal truck driver for his family's Kentucky business. He has just gotten word that Prince House, a Manhattan publishing company, wants his novel Alms for Oblivion, which he's worked on for years. Arthur arrives in New York on Christmas Eve to sign contracts. With his thick accent and boyish face, he is viewed as naive and innocent, but he holds out for more money than publisher Jason Prince first offers. Jeanne Green, the editor who first read the book and who has been assigned to work with him, takes him to her boarding house and gets him a small attic room where he can live and work on the book. That night, he goes to Prince's annual holiday party where he catches the eye of several people: Fannie, Prince's wife; Quentin Judd, a powerful book critic; Ferdie Lax, an agent; and rich socialite Frieda Winter. Though married with three kids, Frieda takes a liking to Arthur, whose nom de plume is Youngblood Hawke (she takes to calling him Bloody on occasion). Though we've seen Arthur and Jeanne strike some mild sparks, it's Frieda who winds up bedding him. His first book is a mild success, but when it stalls on the charts, Prince is reluctant to keep pushing it. With some help from Jeanne, rival publisher Ross Hodge buys out his contract and agrees to publish the second book, Chain of Command. Not only is it a big hit, but famous actress Irene Perry agrees to produce and star in a play version of Alms. Yes, we can see where this is going: eventually, success will take its toll at about the same time as his third book, which he is using to launch his own indie publishing company, is a bomb. Will the ambitious Arthur be able to pick up the pieces while still keeping the respect of his friends and associates?

Though shot in black & white, this fits right in with the many other glossy and colorful soap opera melodramas of the era, from A SUMMER PLACE to IMITATION OF LIFE to PARRISH to THE CARPETBAGGERS. The arc of rise, fall and redemption is predictable, though here the rise happens so quickly that we get little sense of his hard scrabble past. There's a subplot involving his mother's legal wrangle with relatives over land rights, but it's only there so she (Mildred Dunnock) can be present for a couple of emotional incidents midway through, including a laughable scene where she walks in on Arthur and Frieda, fully clothed, kissing—Frieda's reaction is so extreme, you'd think that Ma walked in on the two of them naked in the middle of a drug-fueled orgy. The production values are solid, and the acting, while not Oscar-caliber, is effective. James Franciscus (above) is charming enough and ridiculously handsome (if you like vanilla blonds, which I do) as Arthur, though one online critic notes rightfully that he lacks that undefinable thing called star power. Warren Beatty, who was originally sought for the role, might have made a bigger splash, but Franciscus is fine. As good and maybe better is Suzanne Pleshette (pictured at left with Franciscus) as Jeanne who is believable as the wholesomely sexy heroine. French actress Genevieve Page (Frieda) is not terribly charismatic, and her character never seems to be either having fun or suffering much, even when her adolescent son, who has a bit of a hero-worship crush on Arthur, dies tragically. Among the many familiar players to get some face time: Mary Astor as the actress, Lee Bowman as Prince, Edward Andrews as the critic, Eva Gabor as Prince's wife, Don Porter as the agent, and Kent Smith as Frieda's husband. There isn't a lot of humor, but I liked Pleshette's line when Franciscus scolds her for smoking too much: "I like to cough." Based on a novel by Herman Wouk which was based in part on the life of author Thomas Wolfe. I enjoyed this, but largely because I was enjoying so many close-ups of the shiny dirty blond hair and ultra white teeth of the leading man. [TCM]

EL aka THIS STRANGE PASSION (1953)

During a symbolic foot-washing ceremony at a church in Mexico City (probably for Maundy Thursday during Easter week), the wealthy Francisco catches the eye of the lovely Gloria. Actually, it's her feet in high heels that we first see as the camera pans across the feet being washed by the priest. A spark is ignited and the two encounter each other again later at church. She's engaged to Raul, a friend of Francisco's, but is won over by Francisco's attentions, even though he compares love at first sight to being hit by a poisoned arrow, and marries him. He is charming but inflexible; two things we learn about him early on are that he is engaged in a years-long legal struggle to get back some family land, and when his butler assaults a maid, Francisco fires the maid. After the marriage, we briefly jump forward in time a few years. Gloria sees Raul and tells him how miserable her life is, and starts a flashback to the last few years. Though Francisco is still well-regarded by his friends and by the parish priest, he is neurotically jealous and paranoid—even on their wedding night, he accuses Gloria of thinking of Raul when they kiss—keeping Gloria mostly locked up in the large, bizarrely styled and well-appointed house. His idea of taking her out for a good time is not to go to the movies or a racetrack, but to a cathedral where he takes her to the bell tower and, in an unmotivated fit, tries to throw her to the ground. When he thinks she's flirting with a new young lawyer, he viciously beats her. A pattern of violent paranoia followed by abject apology goes on for years. Raul is horrified and befriends her. When Francisco thinks he sees Gloria and Raul meeting for a romantic assignation at a church, he has a breakdown which finally ends Gloria's torment.

This film by director Luis Bunuel is a festival of psychological and sexual peccadilloes. As well-adjusted as Francisco appears on the surface and to the people around him, he is clearly a sick man. He's a puritanical virgin when he meets Gloria, and some critics imply that he may be impotent. In a most bizarre scene, he enters Gloria's room at night, apparently intending to sew her vagina shut though he doesn't. The penultimate scene is equally strange. When he enters the church and finds out that the couple he has followed is not Gloria and Raul, he hallucinates that the congregation and the priest are laughing at him. Gloria does not escape some judgment. Though Francisco spends some time gaslighting her, even turning her mother against her, it is odd that she doesn't try to leave him sooner. Even Raul notes that but also that she may actually enjoy suffering. The movie has a great Gothic feel and the acting is top notch, with Arturo de Cordova (pictured) both hateful and charismatic as Francisco, Delia Garces both sniveling and strong as Gloria, and Luis Beristain as the long-suffering Raul. The ending is a bit strange but satisfying. [Criterion Channel]

BAIT (1954)

An urbane older man (Sir Cedric Hardwicke) tells us he's famous then ushers us into a projection room. He's the devil, though he admits he rarely takes physical form and instead plants himself as a voice or suggestion in the minds of men. He proceeds to show us the following story which illustrates his point. In a small town in the California mountains, young studly John Agar has agreed to work with an older misfit Serbian (Hugo Haas) to locate a gold mine. Years ago, Haas and his partner Waltzer found a mine but on the way into town to make a claim, they got stranded in a snowstorm. Waltzer died while Haas, who was suspected by townspeople of letting him die, survived but couldn't find the mine again. While buying supplies at the general store, Agar hits it off with attractive blond single mother Cleo Moore. Haas tells Agar that she's no good, but Haas, who spends his free time praying and reading the Bible, seems to have similar feelings about her. The two men, along with Agar's dog Mike, move into an abandoned cabin in the mountains and start their search. After a few weeks (and much praying by Haas), they find the gold mine. Agar wants to make a claim but Haas, worried about claimjumpers, wants to stay over during the winter and mine the gold. During a visit to town, Haas and Agar discover that Moore, who has been delivering groceries to the mine, has been fighting off physical advances from skeevy men. Haas hatches a plan. He asks Moore to marry him so she can live with them. She agrees and moves into the cabin, though he and Moore have no intimate contact. But we soon discover that his real plan is to get Agar all hot and bothered so he'll put the moves on Moore and Haas can kill him, claiming to be an aggrieved husband, and get all the gold for himself. With winter coming, they know they'll be snowed in and tensions begin to mount, but despite a kiss or two, Agar and Moore manage to avoid temptation. Haas moves forward with his plans: he poisons Mike the dog, then during a snowstorm, offers to go to town to get supplies. What he really does is stick around and spy on Moore and Agar, waiting for the moment when he can legitimately shoot Agar.

This is another B-melodrama from director Hugo Haas featuring himself and blonde bombshell Cleo Moore (see HIT AND RUN and STRANGE FASCINATION). Usually Haas is a middle-aged loser who gets the hots for bad girl Moore; she’s usually not as bad as her reputation would have it, but she does get tangled up with a younger hotter man. That formula is in full play here and it proceeds just as you would expect. Everything about this is B-level. The script could have used another draft, as the story and characters seem more sketched in than fully developed. The sets are sparse, though with a general store and a raggedy old cabin as the only settings, not much is really called for. I like Cleo Moore and she's fine here as the mostly good girl who is mistakenly believed to be a bad girl. Haas is serviceable, nothing more, as the scheming bad guy. I can never decide if I like Agar. He's usually reliably hunky (and a bit wooden with an occasional over-the-top outburst), but his looks are odd—he plays handsome characters but his looks are actually a little quirky, like the two halves of his face don't quite match up. He also has a smirk that can come off as either sarcastic or psycho and it's not always clear which he's intending. Here, like Haas, he's adequate. We occasionally get snatches of interior monologue from Haas, like the writers couldn't figure out how else to convey the information he provides. The devil opening has nothing to do with anything; it's like Hardwicke owed the producers a day's work so they fit him in here. I liked this OK but can't get enthusiastic about it. Pictured are Agar and Moore. [YouTube]

CHARLIE CHAN SHORT TAKES 1935

CHARLIE CHAN IN SHANGHAI (1935)

On a ship to Shanghai, detective Charlie Chan (Warner Oland) plays leapfrog with a group of children and sings them a song about Emperor Fu Manchu—likely an inside joke referring to Oland's portrayal of Fu a few years earlier. As he disembarks he finds a note stuffed in his coat pocket warning him away from the city. His secret mission in Shanghai is to assist Sir Stanley Woodland and his investigation into an opium smuggling ring. But at a dinner honoring Chan that evening, Woodland is killed by a hidden gun in a box intended to be opened by Chan. According to Woodland's secretary, Philip Nash, the gun wasn't in the box the last time he checked. That evening, a shadowy figure sneaks into Chan's hotel room and shoots him as he sleeps, but Chan has anticipated such an attack and the bullets just hit a bunch of pillows under a sheet. Charlie, his son Lee (who just happens to be in town on business) and American agent James Andrews work together to solve Woodland's murder and break the opium ring, but the evidence begins pointing toward friendly, clean-cut Philip, much to the distress of his girlfriend Diana who is Woodland's daughter. This is slightly above average for the Chan films of the era. Warner Oland displays a fun side in his opening scene with the children, and Keye Luke (Lee) gets to engage briefly in some fisticuffs. Chan admits to being 60 though Oland was actually 55 and would not live to see 60. Jon Hall (still using his birth name of Charles Locher, pictured at right) is handsome and stoic as Philip, and manages to keep us wondering for a while if he's a good guy or a bad guy; Irene Hervey is fine as Diana as is Russell Hicks as Andrews. Production values are still fairly high at this point in the series, helping to make this worth watching. [DVD]

CHARLIE CHAN'S SECRET (1935)

Allen Colby, heir to the Colby fortune, was returning to San Francisco from Hawaii but is presumed dead after a shipwreck. His body is not found, but Charlie Chan, helping with the investigation, finds his briefcase and a note indicating his life had been threatened. Chan heads to San Francisco to report to the family. Matriarch Aunt Henrietta is a financial backer for a spiritualist group and if Allen is indeed dead, the group will inherit his sizable share. Hanging around the house: daughter Alice and her reporter boyfriend Dick; daughter Janice and her husband Fred; the family attorney; a scaredy cat butler; and a cranky handyman. Allen returns home but is killed by a thrown knife before anyone sees him. That night Carlotta of the spiritualists holds a seance to contact Allen; his eerily glowing face is seen in the room, but when the lights are turned on, his dead body is found. As Chan works to get to the bottom of the murder, an attempt is made on his life, and later another family member is killed. But per the title, Chan does have a secret that might help him break the case. Warner Oland is nicely energetic as Chan, and though it's not quite an old dark house movie, it might count as an “old dark room” movie as much of the action takes place in an atmospheric study where two seances take place. There are no Chan sons present but the butler (Herbert Mundin) is sort of a sidekick fixture who assists Chan a couple of times and provides comic relief. Decent support comes from Charles Quigley as Dick, suspiciously chipper; Edward Trevor as Fred, suspiciously glowering; and Henrietta Crosman as Henrietta. Pictured are Oland and Trevor. [DVD] 

EASY TO LOVE (1934)

Married couple Adolphe Menjou and Genevieve Tobin enjoy evenings out with friends Edward Everett Horton and Mary Astor, who seem to have a casual flirting arrangement that never gets too serious. In fact, Horton admits that he only sees Astor so he can be near Tobin. Menjou, however, is carrying on a secret affair with Astor; they meet every day for an hour at 2:30 for what Menjou says are polo practice sessions. Tobin, though still in love with her husband, is unhappy that the two have separate bedrooms, saying, "We’re married, we're just not married." When Tobin discovers that Menjou is not showing up for his polo practice, she gets suspicious and hires a detective who reports that Menjou spends his time at Astor's apartment, so Tobin gets Horton to accompany her to Astor's place on a seemingly innocent visit. Menjou hides in a closet while Tobin, knowing he's there, goes on to Astor about looking for a love nest for her and Horton. Menjou, of course, is pissed, saying that though he loves Astor "as a woman," he still loves Tobin as a wife, and when a divorce seems inevitable, their daughter (Patricia Ellis) hatches a plan: she announces that, since her parents' marriage didn't work, she might as well go off and live with her boyfriend (Paul Kaye) without the benefit of clergy. In a final scene, Menjou and Tobin confront Ellis and Kaye, snuggled up together in bed in a hotel room, and a happy ending is in store for all—though I'm not 100% convinced that Menjou has really learned his lesson.

This pre-Code film feels like a forerunner of the screwball comedy genre with its fast pace, witty dialogue, and overtones of adultery and reconciliation. At just an hour, it certainly doesn't overstay its welcome. Menjou and Horton hit all their predictable marks with professionalism, and Astor, though good, feels a bit underused. I have seen Tobin in several movies and, while I generally think she gives good performances, I never find her particularly memorable, lacking in star charisma. Here, she sounds a bit like Billie Burke at times, and though she's fine, I once again find my memories of her in this film fading already after just a few days. Hugh Herbert, Guy Kibbee and Robert Greig give their usual strong supporting performances. In fact, Greig gets a standout moment: early on, when Menjou blames his recent fatigue on polo, Grieg says, knowingly, "Polo can be a little strenuous, particularly if you do it every afternoon." Another good line: Menjou, on finding Ellis and Kaye in the hotel room, "They're in bed together and they’re not married!"; Astor: "How enterprising of them." That's a line that they probably could not have gotten away with after the implementation of the Production Code. Same with the entire Menjou/Astor affair plotline. Fun movie with a meaningless and generic title. Pictured are Horton and Astor. [TCM]

MY SISTER EILEEN (1942)

This property has a long history. Ruth McKenney wrote a series of stories which appeared in The New Yorker in the 1930s about herself and her sister, two young women living in Cleveland, Ohio who moved to New York City, with Ruth trying to become a published writer and her younger sister Eileen trying to break into acting. They were presented as fiction but were based on their real lives. (Autofiction, anybody?) A collection of those stories was published in 1937 as My Sister Eileen. In 1940, material from the last two chapters which focused on their time in New York was turned into a hit Broadway play. While it was still running, Columbia turned it into a movie with Rosalind Russell and Janet Blair as the sisters. A stage musical adaptation, Wonderful Town, with music by Leonard Bernstein, was a hit in 1953. A completely different musical movie, titled My Sister Eileen, was released in 1955. Later it became a one-season TV show with Elaine Stritch. Under review here is the 1942 movie. Though I've not seen or read the original play, this is probably fairly faithful to it as almost all the action is set in the girls' one-room apartment. The film begins in Columbus, Ohio as Ruth, working for the Columbus Courier, writes a rave review in advance of her sister's stage debut in A Doll's House. Eileen is replaced at the last minute and when the false review runs, Ruth is fired. The two head to New York (perhaps because, if they can make it there, they can make it anywhere), and rent a basement apartment in Greenwich Village with lots of problems. The feet of people walking along the sidewalk are constantly visible, as are pestering kids and drunks, and a streetlight shines in at night. The beds are hard. There is rumbling and noise from subway repair blasting from under the floor. 

They have to deal with occasional visits from a psychic (a hooker in Production Code disguise) who used to live there. They become friendly with a dim but hunky football player who calls himself The Wreck (and is constantly singing, "I'm a ramblin' wreck from Georgia Tech"); he's married but asks to live in the girls' kitchen for a couple of days while his in-laws visit—they don't approve of the Wreck and don't know that they're married (in the play, the two are in fact not married; the movie marriage is another sop to the Code). Ruth gets involved with the editor of The Manhatter (read: The New Yorker) who works to get her published, while any number of men become enchanted by the blonde and curvy Eileen. The climax features Ruth and a conga line of Portuguese sailors who have docked at the piers. All is more or less resolved at the end. This has a screwball pace which gets tiring after a while, but the performances anchor the film. Rosalind Russell couldn't be better as Ruth as she balances finding a job with protecting her sister and falling in love with the editor. Janet Blair is fine as Eileen, playing her in a not-quite scatterbrained fashion. With my propensity for handsome supporting men, I quite liked Gordon Jones, running around in a sweaty tank top (at right), as the Wreck. Brian Aherne, as the level headed editor, sometimes disappears into the background with all the crazy antics that take center stage. George Tobias is the Greek landlord, and others making an impression include Grant Mitchell, Elizabeth Patterson, Allyn Joslyn, and June Havoc. I’ll try to track down the 50s musical one of these days. Pictured top left are Aherne and Russell. [TCM]

THE SCARLET WEB (1954)

James Warren is released from six months in prison and is picked up by a Mrs. Dexter. She says he looks like the kind of man who is not afraid of a spot of danger and wants to hire him to get a letter of her husband's away from a blackmailer. She sets up a rendezvous that evening with her and her husband Charles to discuss the matter. What she doesn’t know is that he’s actually Jake Winter, an insurance investigator who was in prison working undercover to discover the location of some stolen jewels. He reports to his main office only to find that his boss, a gruff guy with whiskers, has been replaced by Susan Honeywell, a lovely young woman. He’s a bit patronizing to her, but then he starts trying to charm her and she shows signs of responding. But that night at his rendezvous, Mrs. Dexter drugs his drink and he passes out. When he wakes up, he has a knife in his hand, Mrs. Dexter is gone, and a dead woman is present in the apartment. He goes to get help from Susan. His fingerprints were found on the knife so she agrees to hide him and help him clear his name. It turns out that the dead woman is the real Mrs. Dexter, and the woman who drugged him is Charles Dexter's mistress. Dexter's secretary is protective of her boss, but Simpson, Dexter's clerk, is more forthcoming and Jake learns that the mistress's name is Laura Vane. More interestingly, Susan finds out that Dexter had taken out a big life insurance policy on his wife just a few months ago. They figure out that Laura killed Mrs. Dexter and is planning on heading to Buenos Aires with Dexter when the insurance money comes through. Then Susan discovers that Dexter is planning on making the trip alone. Can Jake and Susan clear Jake's name before Dexter gets away?

This hour-long British B-film has two good performances to anchor it. Griffith Jones is fairly dashing and charismatic as Jake, and Hazel Court is sexy and sly as Susan. Their relationship, a little adversarial at the beginning, becomes one of trust and respect and, eventually, romance. Neither actor was a big box-office name but both are usually standouts as supporting players. Here they're the leads and they're quite good. Zena Marshall is fine as the attractive and dangerous Laura; Molly Raynor is the cranky secretary, and Ronald Stevens has a couple nice scenes as Simpson. It's a talky movie with lots of information passed along as expository dialogue. But there is a little effective action, and one fun scene in a salon where Jake finds that Susan is sprucing up her looks to impress him. Her gay comic relief hairdresser (David Stoll) promises not to make her "too fluffy," which amuses Jake. I always like Jones and he and Court have a good chemistry, and the film's tone remains light—it's too bad this didn't become a series. Pictured are Court and Jones. [YouTube]

STRANGE INTERLUDE (1932)

In a small university town in New England after World War I, Nina Leeds (Norma Shearer) is still grieving the death of her boyfriend Gordon in the war, with particular distress over the fact that her father discouraged them from marrying before he went overseas out of misplaced jealousy, wanting to keep Nina for himself. She became a nurse for convalescing soldiers in Boston, but gained a reputation for sleeping with them, so she has returned home. Also back in town is Charlie Marsden (Ralph Morgan), a mama's boy who has nursed an unrequited love for Nina for years. Dr. Ned Darrell (Clark Gable), a colleague who also has an unspoken crush on Nina, thinks that she needs to get married and suggests Gordon's boyhood pal Sam (Alexander Kirkland) as the groom. They marry and afterwards, Sam's mother tells Nina the family secret of which Sam is not aware: inherited insanity runs in the family, and she suggests that Nina should, behind Sam's back, find a man to impregnate her instead of Sam. She enlists Ned who fulfills his duty, though the two then realize they're in love. She names her son Gordon (if you didn't know by now, Freud would have a field day with this narrative) who grows up sensing Ned's love for his mother and resenting it. Charlie figures it all out and, somewhat masochistically, remains in Nina's social orbit, suffering silently. Years later, as a college student, Gordon (Robert Young) wins a sailing competition and Sam, proud and excited, drops dead of a stroke. Gordon announces his plan to marry his girlfriend which Nina thinks is too conventional a life plan. By the end, Nina comes to the realization that she and Ned gave up happiness for Sam, Ned leaves so Gordon's resentment of him won't fester, and Nina is left with the sad, passive Charlie as her only companion, someone she assumes has "passed all desire," not knowing that he will pine for her forever.

This dysfunctional family melodrama is based on a somewhat experimental play by Eugene O’Neill—it's famous for its gimmick of having characters stop while delivering dialogue, turn to the audience, and speak asides, baring their real thoughts which are often very different from what they are expressing verbally. For the film, the actors stop speaking and the asides are delivered as voiceovers—the gimmick is explained at the beginning of the film, and Charlie delivers a line about spoken words being "just a mask" for our true selves. It's rather awkward especially when the asides have to be delivered quickly so as not to interrupt the flow of the action. The actors' faces sometimes go into contortions of varying emotions as the aside rambles on, causing some unwanted comical moments. I guess I got used to it but it remains disruptive all through the two-hour film (the play ran almost five hours, sometimes performed with a dinner break). The actors seem a bit at sea, especially Ralph Morgan (Charlie) who has the burden of a larger share of these asides, at least in the beginning. The best acting comes from Gable, and Shearer is good in scenes with Gable, though largely due to the writing we never really see what is so appealing about Nina that she has such a hold on all these men. The characters come off as a seething knot of neurotics and my sympathy for them was worn to a nub by the end. A scene near the end with Nina and Ned bidding farewell to Gordon is just plain laughable. As might be expected with an adaptation of a highly theatrical play (O'Neill wrote the screenplay), quite a bit is told rather than shown which blunts some of the emotional effectiveness of the situations. Still, I recommend this to fans of the era and the stars, which also include May Robson and Maureen O'Sullivan.  And to anyone looking for a novelty. Pictured are Gable and Shearer. [TCM]

THE GHOST THAT WALKS ALONE (1944)

A radio soap opera called The Tender Hour is being performed live with lead actors Sue and Whitney as the romantic couple, and Enid and Cedric as supporting players. But sound effects man Eddie has his mind on his wedding later that day and messes up a couple of sound cues. Macy Turner, the producer and Enid’s husband, fires Eddie but Enid insists on him being re-hired. Macy thinks that Cedric has designs on his wife, leading to some tension. Eddie and Sue leave to be married, then go to a lodge in the woods run by his sister Milly. When Macy discovers that the Tenderfoot Shoe Company has threatened to pull their sponsorship of the show, he insists that the cast and crew, along with Beppo, a writer, head out to the lodge to rehearse all week, horning in on Eddie and Sue’s honeymoon. Milly allows them to stay, even though the lodge is officially closing for the season. Also in the lodge: Tom, a sinister looking handyman, and Cornelia Coates, a nutty old lady with a propensity for sleepwalking reveries in which she thinks she's Lady Guinevere. In the night, Eddie leaves his room to make sure his sound effects trunks are safe; when he returns, someone has switched the room numbers on the doors and Eddie enters Whitney’s room thinking it's his. Instead of Sue, Eddie finds the dead body of Macy in the bed. Roomies Cedric and Beppo help him put the body in a trunk and take it to the basement. Eddie runs into Cornelia walking in her sleep and accompanies her on her reverie; Sue sees them and thinks that Eddie is already being unfaithful to her. The next morning, Eddie discovers that Macy's body is missing. The sheriff is called by Whitney, who never came back to his room the night before, and soon everyone is a suspect in a murder that no one can prove actually happened.

A couple of online writers have compared this B-movie comic mystery to a Scooby-Doo episode with Eddie as Shaggy. I've actually never seen an entire episode of that show, but that seems right. The story is fun but the script is weak and full of plotholes, and it's the acting that carries one through. Arthur Lake (Dagwood in the Blondie movies) has a sweet but scatterbrained thing going on here as Eddie and it works well, though one does wonder how he wound up with a smart and attractive woman like Lynne Roberts (Sue). Because Janis Carter (Enid) is top billed over Roberts, I assumed that Sue was going to be a villain but both she and Carter remain what they seem in the opening. Carter is fine but is not any more important to the plot than Roberts, so I guess the billing was a contractual thing. I was not familiar with the rest of the cast, but they’re mostly fine. Arthur Space (Cedric) and Frank Sully (Beppo) as the roomies are good comic sidekicks and, frankly, have more chemistry together than Lake and Roberts. Matt Willis is creepily thuggish as Tom. I was less impressed with Ida Moore as the nutty Cornelia but that may just be a reaction to her character who seems superfluous and only needed for a final punch line. Among the plotholes: the idea that the entire crew would intrude on a honeymoon to rehearse a 15 minute soap opera episode is silly; it’s never explained why Cornelia is still staying in the lodge; the absence of a couple of the characters for a while is not explained. As most online viewers note, the title is nonsense. Though one character mentions ghosts in passing, there is no ghost, walking or otherwise, and no character suspects one. I got mild enjoyment out of Lake, Space and Sully but otherwise it’s a minor effort from the Columbia B-movie unit. Pictured are Jack Lee (as Macy) and Lake. [YouTube]