THE SHANGHAI STORY (1954)

In Shanghai, a crackdown by the Communist government occasioned by an outbreak of spy activity has a number of foreigners interned as prisoners in an emptied-out hotel. Among them: Dan, an American doctor; Paul, a seemingly harmless artist; newlyweds Emilio and Leah; Knuckles, a young sailor; and Ricki, a neutral citizen who is suspected of being an arms dealer. Also among the internees are a minister, an older man with a heart condition, and an American family. There is one internee, Rita, who has a fair degree of freedom in coming and going. Despite some possible sparks between her and Dan, he suspects that she may be the mistress of Zorek, the security officer. The story develops episodically. One of the Communist guards kills a dog for biting him on the ankle; a young girl falls ill and Dan tries to get Rita to use her influence to allow her to be taken to a hospital; an assassination attempt is made on a spy suspect. One man discovers that Paul has a radio hidden in his room, but when he excitedly tries to tell Zorek, it's assumed he is trying to escape and is shot dead. Dan figures out a way to get information out to spy contacts, but has to rely on Rita for help, not being quite sure if he can trust her. This is a B-movie cross between a spy melodrama and a soap opera. It takes place almost completely in the hotel and the two genres do battle throughout. The characters, though well differentiated, aren't all that interesting, with Paul (Whit Bissel) and Knuckles (Richard Jaeckel) brought to life the best. Ruth Roman is fine as Rita, whom you know from the beginning will wind up on the side of the good guys, but Edmond O’Brien (as Dan) is a bit stodgy and their implied romance goes nowhere. The soapy Grand Hotel elements of the film don't build convincingly, but the mild spy action scenes are pulled off fairly well. Taking place on a handful of hotel sets, the whole thing is very much like a play, though it was actually based on a novel. The director, Frank Lloyd, turned in some fine work in the 30s (Cavalcade, Mutiny on the Bounty) but in this, his next-to-last film, he seems uninspired. It’s paced fairly well and at 90 minutes, seems about the right length. Though it's not set on a train, fans of train movies, with various characters stuck together in a limited space, may enjoy this. Pictured are Jaeckel and O'Brien. [TCM]

BLIND SPOT (1947)

In his opening narration, author Jeffrey Andrews (Chester Morris) tells us that we may have seen too many movies about authors living the high life, but writing good books and writing books that sell may not be the same thing. We see a drunken and grizzled Andrews get dressed as he looks at himself in a cracked mirror (pictured at left), takes another slug of booze, and heads off to visit his publisher Henry Small, looking for a loan or an advance. Though Small is in a meeting with successful mystery writer Lloyd Harrison (Steven Geray), Andrews rudely pushes past Small's secretary Evelyn (Constance Dowling) and demands a new contract. Small refuses but gives him twenty bucks and encourages him to stop writing literary books and aim for the bestseller list. Harrison, who is himself looking for a new contract, admires Andrews' books and seems sympathetic to his plight. Andrews mumbles something about how easy it would be to come up with a plot for a locked room murder mystery then hits a bar where he relates his murder plot to the bartender, and later to Evelyn who arrives at the bar upset over Small having tried to force himself on her. Later, even more drunk, he goes to Small's empty outer office and tears up his old contract. The next morning, Small is found dead in his locked inner office and the police arrest Andrews as a suspect since the death is very much like the murder he had outlined the night before. Andrews can't remember the solution to the mystery he had dreamed up. Harrison talks the police into letting Andrews go in his custody. Trying to track down the two people to whom he told the plot, Andrews discovers that the bartender has been found dead and Evelyn has disappeared. He also finds a $500 check in his pocket from Small, indicating that the publisher had heard the whole story and liked it. He eventually finds Evelyn and suspects her (her earring is found near the bartender's body) but they strike sparks. Evelyn: "Do you really think I killed Small?"; [long rough kiss]; Andrews: "Yes." Still, the two join forces to figure out Andrews' forgotten solution and find the real killer.

This is a nifty little low-key film noir. There aren't quite enough suspects around so the killer's identity is obvious (as is, if you've ever read a locked room mystery, the solution to Andrews' plot), but the movie is drenched in noir visuals and the acting is quite good. Chester Morris gives a far more layered performance than he was allowed to give in his Boston Blackie detective films, and he's very convincing as a drunk at the end of his rope, though he overdoes the drunk acting a bit in the beginning. In a couple of scenes in which his stubbled face is nearly engulfed in shadows, you can practically smell the sweat on his skin and the booze on his breath. Dowling was in the classic noir BLACK ANGEL and did a Boston Blackie movie with Morris the year before. Though she never broke out of B-films, she's great as the dame who may or may not be a femme fatale. Geray is convincing in a difficult role; as with Dowling, we're not quite sure how much to trust what he does and says. In addition to the opening meta-reference to movies, there's also a brief reference to THE LOST WEEKEND, the famous film from 1945 about an alcoholic writer. Thanks to TCM host Eddie Muller for bringing this to light on his Noir Alley show. [TCM]

THE GIRL WHO KNEW TOO MUCH (1969)

Two men assault a trash truck driver, knock him unconscious, and send his truck into reverse to crash into a nightclub, killing a crime boss named Grinaldi and his bodyguard (discovered later to have been a CIA agent). Grinaldi's mistress, Revel Drue, had been sitting with him just moments earlier when she went to chat with Johnny Cain, the club owner and a former lover. Cain, who lives on a yacht, is generally known as a playboy adventurer and the day after the crash, he is called to a nighttime meeting in the offices of a department store. Grinaldi had belonged to a small group of supposedly respectable businessmen who are secretly involved in criminal activities. The men, whose group is codenamed West (for the Western United States, I presume), aren't unhappy that Grinaldi is dead, but they are worried about the motivation of the killer so they hire Cain, under threat of death, and give him 72 hours to find those responsible. A starting point: Grinaldi was in the process of smuggling a priceless Tibetan statue called Yama. Cain gets some help from Crawford, a police lieutenant who may not like Cain but is sympathetic to him. Later, the CIA, who are looking into the smuggling, strongly encourage Cain to share what he learns with them—some months ago, a Caribbean CIA outpost was blown up, with all but one agent killed, and the Yama statue may be linked to that incident. Along the way, Cain meets: Grinaldi’s widow, an amateur actress who seems pretty numbed out by booze and drugs; a tired old man named Hash who served as Grinaldi's accountant; an art history professor who works a side gig as a stripper; studly pilot Race Rockwell; and engineer Ah Ling, whose name Rockwell helpfully identifies as "oriental." We're never quite sure who can be trusted, especially the somewhat mysterious Revel. The specter of Communism becomes a MacGuffin, just like the Yama statue, so ultimately, there doesn't seem to be much at stake for the audience to care about.

This is a deliriously fun bad movie that MST3K or Rifftrax should get their hands on. The main reason for watching is Adam West who stars as Cain. West's claim to fame until the day he died was playing Batman on TV in the mid-1960s. His handsome face and oddly deadpan demeanor were perfect for this role, but he never got very far putting Batman behind him, and to his credit, he eventually embraced the stereotyping and wound up with a very long career (with almost 200 credits on IMDb), often playing himself. This was his first movie role after Batman and he's actually OK, coming off as nice-looking and almost hunky but a little dim—he frequently has sort of a dead-eyed look that works with this character, and I'm a little sorry he never got to repeat the role. Online critic Ian Jane says of West here that he’s "kinda charming in his seemingly oblivious way," and that's a great description of what I see as one of the movie's pluses. 

The real problem here is, well, everything else. Though in terms of visuals, it looks good (the Blu-ray print is spectacular), it's clearly a B-movie affair with an incredibly slapdash script that feels like it was written as they filmed, and the narrative goes off the tracks by the halfway point. Nancy Kwan (pictured above right with West) was one of the first Asian actresses to gain Hollywood stardom with her first two movies, The World of Suzie Wong and Flower Drum Song, but she was soon relegated to lesser roles and movies; as Revel (great name!) she’s good here but is basically a less tarted-up Bond girl. Very busy character actor Nehemiah Persoff keeps his dignity as the cop. But no one else comes off very well, including Robert Alda and Mark Roberts as two of the West group, and Frank Baxter in the two-line role of Race Rockwell (again, great name!). Patricia Smith overacts every moment she's on screen as the zoned-out widow. Lisa Todd, as Sugar Sweet, the art history professor, can barely say her lines, let alone give them any feeling. Buddy Greco, a legit pop singer, plays Lucky, the club performer; he handles what little acting he has to do OK, but all three of the songs he sings are just awful, with lyrics like, "I’m alive to the memory of at least a dozen mistakes, freakish little nothings" and "Abreast of the times, way out in the spaces of your mind." The fistfights are well staged; one is pictured at left. There's a great scene of a dead body slowly coming down an escalator. If I'd seen this in a grungy panned-and-scanned print, I would not have stuck with it, but in crisp, clean widescreen, it was worth hanging around until the end, even if I had to shut my mind off. [Blu-ray]

WALK THE PROUD LAND (1956)

In 1874, John Clum (Audie Murphy) arrives in Tucson in Arizona Territory, sent by the Department of the Interior to take steps to make the local Apache population "useful citizens." The Army, embodied by General Wade, is not happy to be overridden in their mission to suppress (or, essentially, exterminate if possible) the "savage" Apache people. Clum immediately takes measures to stop Apache workers from being manacled and is thanked by the Apache widow Tianay (Anne Bancroft), who moves herself and her young son into Clum's dwelling to be his woman. He tells her he's already engaged and that his fiancée is arriving soon to be married, but she begs to be kept on as a housekeeper. Clum has soon set up an Apache police force to take care of tribal matters, replacing the Army. He also allows the arming of the police and of a handful of hunters. Former Army officer Tom Sweeny (Charles Drake), in danger of becoming a drunkard, becomes Clum's trusted associate, as does Taglito (Tommy Rall), a young Apache. General Wade and the Governor of the Territory remain unconvinced by Clum's approach, and forces within the tribe, primarily embodied by the angry young Disalin, stir up tensions as they want to join up with the exiled Geronimo and his men, who are hiding in the hills. More tension is stirred up by Mary (Pat Crowley) who arrives to marry Clum and, understandably, resents the presence of Tianay in their home. The ending, in which Clum gets Geronimo to surrender without firing a shot, leaves things in uncertainty as the Army regains control of the tribe, but Clum agrees to stay on when he is asked by the Apache chief to become a go-between.

John Clum was a real person who did, according to Wikipedia, implement self-government on reservation lands, and did have a hand in capturing Geronimo. He had a wife named Mary, though they were married back in Ohio. When he got tired of Army interference, he left for good, replaced by a string of Indian agents who were less effective. This movie has the feel of a "print the legend" story and as such, it's effective enough. I like Audie Murphy and his stoic good-guy persona works well here. The memory of watching TEAHOUSE OF THE AUGUST MOON was still fresh and Murphy reminded me of a less antic version of the role that Glenn Ford plays in that tale of the American Army's attempts to bring capitalism to a post-war Japanese village. It was strange to see Anne Bancroft in "duskyface" (pictured with Murphy) and speaking stilted English as the Indian widow but she's fine. Pat Crowley has little to do in the totally predictable role of the wife who overcomes her resentment in the end. Charles Drake is likable as Murphy's sidekick, though he rather overdoes a drunk scene early in the film. Tommy Rall is better known as a dancer (Kiss Me Kate, Seven Brides for Seven Brothers) and is not an easy fit for the role of Taglito, but he grew on me. As was par for the course, there are no Native American actors in major roles except for Jay Silverheels in the small role of Geronimo, and the men in the bad guy roles (Morris Ankrum, Anthony Caruso) don't have much to do except glower and skulk. Writer Jeff Arnold, an expert on the Old West and Western movies, concludes that even if the "facts are distorted [...] they got the overall tone right," and that feels right to me. [TCM]

BLONDES AT WORK (1938)

Reporter Torchy Blane sees a rookie cop named Regan writing her a ticket for parking too close to a fire hydrant. Torchy tries to avoid the ticket by letting Regan know that she is the fiancée of police officer Lieutenant McBride, but no dice. As it happens, McBride is in hot water for leaking too much information to Torchy for her scoops. He refuses to discuss cases with her, and wants her to quit her job when they marry. Of course, this makes her more determined than ever to make headlines. Department store magnate Spencer is reported missing (Torchy saw him hustled into a car while getting her ticket), then found dead. When Torchy finds out that McBride’s driver Gahagan keeps a diary that he leaves in his car's glove compartment, she encourages him to write about the cases that McBride is working on, then Torchy sneaks peeks at the diary and manages to get secret info that she makes front page news with. McBride is stumped for a while, but soon catches on, though by that point, Torchy is going full speed ahead with her meddling in the Spencer case, going so far as to eavesdrop on a jury room discussion to get info. She is jailed on contempt charges just as the case is coming to a climax, but McBride actually gives her a hand so she can still get the final scoop. This is the fourth in a series of Torchy Blane movies, with Glenda Farrell as Torchy and Barton MacLane as McBride (they appeared in seven of the nine movies). I have enjoyed some of the entries in this series of fast-paced B-movies, but this one left me cold. For starters, the mystery is handled rather haphazardly and there's not much at stake for the audience—I started to include the details of the mystery in my summary but didn't think it was worth it. The climax of the case plays out offscreen. I like Glenda Farrell OK but Torchy comes off as a bit unlikable in her single-minded drive to get scoops, not seeming to care how much trouble McBride might get into. MacLane is boring and the two have little chemistry. Busy comic character actor Tom Kennedy outshines the leads as Gahagan, and I like John Ridgely in the small role of Regan. I must admit I enjoyed seeing Torchy in jail. Some plot elements were borrowed from 1935’s FRONT PAGE WOMAN. Unless you’re a Torchy Blane completist, this is not necessary viewing. Pictured are Farrell and MacLane. [TCM]

WARNING FROM SPACE (1956)

In a rotating spaceship in outer space, aliens shaped like starfish with a big eye in the center of their bodies are on a mission to save Earthlings from their own blunders. They send out flying saucers over Japan and try to get the attention of scientists Kamura, Matsuda and Itsobe. Citizens of Tokyo also begin to see these saucers, with some people reporting weird power glitches, and a reporter who catches Prof. Kamura lounging at the Cafe Universe (great name, awful decor) tries to get a story from him. Eventually one of the aliens (referred to as #1 by the other aliens) transmutes itself into the appearance of famous entertainer Hikari Aozora. She is rescued from a lake and brought to the attention of the scientists where she exhibits odd behavior like leaping ten feet into the air and passing through walls and closed doors. She also finds and tears up the formula for a new, powerful and deadly atomic weapon that Matsuda has been working on. We soon learn the aliens are from the planet Pryan whose orbit is exactly opposite that of Earth and they seem to have two missions. One was to stop us from building Matsuda's weapons, which Alien #1 seems to have done, but the other one is to warn us that a rogue planet (they call it Planet R) is heading our way and will crash into us, destroying Earth but also negatively affecting Pryon's orbit as well. The best way to do this might be to gather all existing nuclear weapons and fire them at the planet, but the United Nations (called the World Congress here) fights that idea—until the approaching planet becomes visible. They try it but it has no effect. Then someone thinks maybe Matsuda's secret new weapon might work, but a gangster has kidnapped Matsuda, keeping him tied up until he gives up the secret formula. Does Earth have a chance?

Online critics have noted that The Day the Earth Stood Still and When Worlds Collide may have influenced this low-budget Japanese film's plot, but it’s also a hodgepodge of interesting but half-baked ideas, some of which are brought up and then dropped pretty quickly. (It’s also the first Japanese sci-fi film in color, for what it's worth.) Let's get the biggest problem out of the way first: the aliens look like big Teletubbies whose costumes were made by the moms of middle school students for a talent show. They are perhaps the worst looking aliens in movie history (pictured above right). The gimmick of having Alien #1 impersonate a celebrity has promise, but little is done with it. The flying saucers being shot out of a mothership is a largely squandered idea, as are the World Congress, the gangsters, and Alien #1’s ability to pass through solids. The irony of the aliens trying to eradicate the very thing that ends up being the solution to the larger problem is never dealt with. I feel like they threw every idea they had for this movie in a hat, picked a few out, and gave them each 5-10 minutes of screen time. [Caveat: I've only seen the dubbed American print from American International which was released directly to TV in 1963, and it may differ from the original version in major ways.] Once I got done laughing at the opening scene of the aliens, I admit the movie did have a certain charm. The last section, which features some limited destruction due to the approaching planet, works up some thrills, and the scene of Matsuda tied up with a blood red sky lighting the room, looks almost like film noir. The actors are par for the course, with the only one allowed to stand out being Toyomi Karita as Alien #1/Hikari, mostly due to her being a bit glamorous. OK for Saturday afternoon fun. Note: every other review of this movie calls the aliens "Pairans" but I distinctly heard a "y" sound in there, so that's why I stuck with "aliens." Pictured at left is the transformation of Alien #1 into Hikari. [YouTube]

PAROLE, INC. (1948)

Right off the bat, we are given a thesis sentence, if you will, concerning the "growing menace of unwisely given or fraudulently obtained paroles." Next we see a man with multiple injuries in a hospital bed. This is Richard Hendricks, a federal agent who is recording his testimony to be used in court. We flashback to the beginning of his case, when he is tasked by the governor to root out corruption on the state parole board. When we see one of the board meetings, it's not hard to figure out that the head of the board, Holliday, is involved, as whenever there's a tie vote, he breaks the tie by voting for the parole of a shady character. Hendricks goes undercover as convict Rick Carson, a parole violator, and infiltrates the gang of Harry Palmer, a recent parolee freed by the corrupt Holliday. Palmer's wife Glenda works at the Pastime Club, a place frequented by crooks, and when Hendricks (as Carson) starts making contacts there, he flirts with the owner, Jojo Dumont, who runs an illegal gaming racket. Hendricks tries to arrange for help in getting his crime partner, Cooper, freed via crooked parole. Soon, all roads lead towards Jojo's lover Barney, a crooked lawyer who, for a fee, gets Holliday and a couple other parole board members, to rig up paroles for unworthy convicts. Double crosses, a murder, and secret recordings ensue until Hendricks is exposed and gets the shit kicked out of him. But as we know from the opening, he is saved in the nick of time by the cops and recovers to give the testimony that will put the bad guys behind bars.

Short B-film second features of the era often had either too much or not enough plot. This 70-minute movie has too much, and things get a little convoluted, though generally I was able to follow the basics. The biggest problem, however, is the lead actor, Michael O'Shea, as Hendricks. He is charisma-free and alternates between trying too hard and not trying hard enough. Virtually every other male actor in the movie outshines him. Charles Bradstreet, as Palmer, is quite good but vanishes too early. Harry Lauter, James Cardwell, and Lyle Talbot, in small roles, are good. The usually reliable Turhan Bey (Barney) has little to do compared with how important he is to the plot. The two females, Evelyn Ankers (Jojo) and Virginia Lee (Glenda) are both fine. (There is literally only one other woman in the movie, Hendrick's nurse, played by Bess Flowers, the queen of bit part players of the classic era.) Much of the narrative winds up told, not shown, the sets are cheap and the direction is lackluster. I stuck with it largely for the novelty of the semi-propaganda topic of parole cheating, but you can give this a miss. Pictured is Charles Bradstreet. [YouTube]

RIGHT HAND OF THE DEVIL (1963)

Pepe Lusara (played by the film's director Aram Katcher) arrives in Los Angeles by helicopter and rents a big house for six months. The previous resident, we are told, was a research scientist who died in an explosion and not all of his body parts were found—this odd detail never comes into play again. He applies for a temp job at the downtown sports arena and cozies up to Elizabeth, the head cashier (who looks like she could be his mom). We soon realize that, thinking of himself as a criminal mastermind, he is planning a big heist at the arena. He hires four guys, none seeming very smart: Spooky, a pool hall denizen; Carter, a crook supposedly gone straight; Sammy, a jumpy junkie; and Williams, a driver. Elizabeth, carried away by his romancing, such as it is, joins in. We also see him stealing some kind of caustic acid from a nearby factory and pouring it in his tub. (Unlike the research scientist detail, this plot point will eventually come into play.) She gives him her keys and he ties her up in her office to make it look like he overpowered her to get the cash. The heist goes off fairly well, with two of the guys dressing in drag to make their escape, but Pepe betrays everyone. He escapes to Rio and lives the high life for a while, but some rough justice is delivered in the end.

Aram Katcher was a small-time character actor whose main gig was as the owner of (and chief beautician at) a beauty salon in L.A. In fact, he is credited here not just as director but as story writer, art director, and supervisor of makeup and hair styles. This very low budget film was obviously a passion project for him. There are promising elements here and there—the main idea of the story, though derivative, in particular of THE KILLING isn’t bad—but the script is sloppy, as is most of the cinematography, editing and direction. (The hair styles seem fine.) Pepe does not come off as interesting, compelling, or smart, and the heist seems to come off almost in spite of his leadership. Some viewers have noted a Peter Lorre quality to Katcher which is true when it comes to his looks, not true when it comes to his acting talent. Lisa McDonald is probably the standout (which isn’t really saying much here) as Elizabeth; she seems like an amateur who took advantage of her opportunity and gave it her best. Brad Trumbull, whom I suspect is the only real professional among the supporting players (80 credits, mostly TV), is pretty good as the driver. There is some decent gory makeup in a climactic scene. In feel, this reminded me of a couple of other super-cheap 1960s melodramas I’ve seen in recent years and liked (SATAN IN HIGH HEELS, BLAST OF SILENCE) but this one has little to recommend it. Pictured are Trumbull and Katcher. [YouTube]

THREE BITES OF THE APPLE (1967)

Stanley Thrumm is a tour bus guide, taking a small group of travelers through Italy and Switzerland. Among the tourists are an older couple who keep asking to stop so they can use a bathroom, an American alcoholic, one of the amusing kind you find in movies, and a ditzy single woman of a certain age, Angela Sparrow, who is a bit man crazy and who sets her cap for Stanley, who resists her charms without much effort. On the Italian Riviera, Stanley winds up at a casino and spends the night gambling and winning, through dumb luck, 20 million lira (about 12,000 English pounds). The lovely Carla Moretti keeps an eye on him and, when he leaves the casino at dawn, casually attracts his attention and ends up spending the day with him. Even as Stanley falls for her, we realize that she is setting up a trap to get his money. Carla follows him to Rome and romances him as she plots a scam with her ex-husband Remo that involves getting Stanley to trust them with his money so he can take it out of Italy without paying exorbitant taxes. Angela, in her rather blunt way, continues unsuccessfully to try and seduce him, and in Switzerland, Stanley and Carla wind up stuck overnight at a mountain chalet where they sleep together and, of course, Carla begins to have second thoughts about her scam. Unfortunately, Remo is not about to give up the easy money.

I found many reasons to dislike this romantic comedy. For starters, there's the silly animated credits sequence featuring Adam, Eve, and the apple—and a rather bad song about the three sung by the star of the movie, David McCallum (pictured) who plays Stanley. Character development is problematic: Stanley claims he loves his job because he loves people, but we see no evidence of that in the offhand way he treats his tourists; and the tourists are differentiated just enough so that each one gets one brief highlight scene before fading into the background. The parade of events that make up the plot—the big win at the casino, the convoluted plan to get Stanley's money, the breakdown of the ski car that forces Stanley and Carla to stay at the chalet—is ridiculous. Tammy Grimes gives a dreadful performance as the dreadful Angela. She might have benefitted from going campy, but as it is, her flirting is just embarrassing. At one point, the money is hidden inside a large stuffed dog that Stanley lets Angela hold onto, and when he needs to get it back, he enters her room at night; when he won’t get in bed with her, she files a harassment complaint with the tour company that, in the end, gets him fired. So what is there to like about this mess? Well, the three main roles are played well. McCallum’s character is inconsistent, and he plays the rather passive role as if he was desperate to escape his dashing spy character, Illya Kuryakin, from TV’s The Man from U.N.C.L.E., but his puppy dog looks made me forgive him most everything. Sylva Koscina, who first came to international fame opposite Steve Reeves in the original Hercules, looks great and gives the best performance—she is the only one I believed in as a character. Domenico Modugno is very good as her husband (and, BTW, Modugno is best known for writing the international hit "Volare"). Harvey Korman is not bad as the drunk tourist, but after a couple of early scenes, he is more or less discarded along with the other travelers. Filmed on location, the scenery is lovely, and there is a nice comic fistfight late in the film with McCallum and Modugno. I'm about to damn it with my frequently used faint praise: I can't recommend it but I'm not sorry to have seen it. Make of that what you will. [TCM]

SCARLET PAGES (1930)

In 1911, we see a matron at the Good Samaritan Orphanage performing intake on the child of Mary Bancroft, and we learn that one of the rules of taking the child is that they will never tell the mother who adopts the child. In 1930, Mary has become a successful lawyer who is being pursued by district attorney John Remington. Though she enjoys his company, she avoids commitment, possibly because of her past. One night at a nightclub, Mary and John see young Nora Mason, a brightly spangled chorus girl, perform. Nora wants to leave the business and is about to elope with a boy named Bob, but her father is essentially trying to pimp her to Gregory Jackson, a theatrical producer who wants to make a star of her (and, of course, wants to force her to marry him). That night, Nora's father is shot dead and Nora has disappeared as the police search for her. The next day, in a very melodramatic scene, Nora's mother brings Nora to Mary's office and asks her to defend Nora in court. Nora admits to killing her father but won't give a reason. After some thought, Mary agrees. When she chats with John about the case, she says she thinks that Nora is protecting someone else, most likely her mother. We eventually learn that on the night of the murder, Mr. Mason was so adamant about the arrangement with Jackson that he had threatened to kill Bob. Something else happened that night as well, as we find out that Mr. Mason may have sexually assaulted Nora. Things come to a head in the courtroom (where John is the prosecutor) when it's divulged that Nora was adopted—and guess who was her birth mother.

(Spoilers follow) This pre-Code melodrama allows Nora to escape legal punishment for murder, and gives most of the characters happy endings by the fadeout, though poor Mary has to suffer through thinking that her shame of unwed motherhood may hurt her career (it probably won't), and that she will lose the love of John (she doesn't). She is also shamed by Nora for giving her up (Nora eventually forgives her). Even Nora and Bob wind up together. This is the only talking picture made by Elsie Ferguson, who plays Mary, and who played her on stage as well. Ferguson was a well known stage actress who made many silent films, but retired from movies after this. She's a bit stiff and artificial, and doesn't generate much natural sympathy for her character. Marian Nixon (Nora) is one-note sullen throughout, which, though it does fit her character, grows boring. Better are John Halliday as John (a bit dashing and always on Mary's side, even when he's fighting her in court) and Grant Withers as Bob (big nice-guy doofus). It's clear to us from the beginning that Nora is Mary's daughter, but the actual revelation is withheld until the end. The court case, however, does generate enough tension to keep us watching. Well, it will keep you watching if you are already aware of the problems of early talkies, and this one has many of them—static shots, stagy performances, an awkward dance number. Still, the vaguely presented themes of female strength and dysfunctional family dynamics may interest some. Pictured are Nixon and Withers. [TCM]