THE MAN WHO BROKE THE BANK AT MONTE CARLO (1935)

A space is reserved for a M. Gallard at a bacarrat table in a Monte Carlo gambling house. We assume Gallard must be a VIP, and when he (Ronald Colman) arrives, he looks the part. He sits down and proceeds to have a 15-game winning streak, winning millions of francs and forcing the club to shut the game down. By that time, he has attracted much attention and he tells the press that this was a once-in-a-lifetime bit of luck, says he's never coming back, and suggests that others not fall for the game. Of course, the club is not happy about this and they try to get him to stay, to no avail. On the train back to Paris, Gallard's eye is caught by the lovely Helen (Joan Bennett), traveling with her brother (Colin Clive). We discover that Gallard is a former Russian aristocrat living the low life, driving a cab in an expatriate community, and with his winnings, he decides to follow (some might say "stalk") Helen on a train trip to Switzerland. Eventually, she thaws a bit and he finds out that she about to enter into a loveless marriage with an elderly banker just for financial security, and when she finds out about his winnings, she asks him to take her away for a last fling at Monte Carlo. Well, it's not too difficult to figure out that she's not what she seems—she's been hired by the casino to lure Gallard back so he'll bet and lose his previous winnings.

This romantic comedy has the feel of several other films about love and money and disguise, from MIDNIGHT to THE LADY EVE, but this is a rather limp take on the genre. I assume this was produced as a B-movie second feature—a running time of only 70 minutes, a weak script, generally indifferent acting. The pace, while not exactly dreadfully slow, is not especially snappy and the very presence of the somewhat wooden Ronald Colman ensures that this will never be mistaken for a screwball comedy. There is little chemistry between Colman and leading lady Bennett (who, like Colman, lacks the verve that these proceedings call for). The film is choppily episodic, feeling like chunks of backstory have been removed. On the other hand, because it's short, it’s not hard to sit through, and there is some pleasure in watching everything fall into place for the film's predictable but satisfying ending. Nigel Bruce doesn't get enough screen time as Colman's valet, another Russian expatriate. Inspired by a popular British ditty of the late 19th century which can be heard under the opening credits. [TCM]