THE STRANGE CASE OF DR. RX (1942)

At a high-class gentlemen's club, a man is found dead in his room, tied to a bedpost with a piece of paper pinned to him that says "Rx 5." He is the fifth victim of the mysterious killer known in the press as Dr. Rx. All the victims are men who have been defendants in high-profile court cases and all were found not guilty, despite much evidence that they were guilty. A lawyer named Crispin (Samuel S. Hinds), who defended all these men, is naturally upset, so he hires playboy detective Jerry Church (Patric Knowles) to track down the killer. Church is planning on moving to Boston and becoming a bond salesman, but he is present when Crispin's next freed defendant is killed right in the courtroom, possibly by poison or strangulation, or both. So Church, with some unwanted help from his brand new wife and mystery writer Kit (Anne Gwynne), his valet Fitz (Mantan Moreland), and a couple of relatively inept cops, takes the case. There aren't many obvious suspects, though something odd seems to be going on between Crispin's wife (Mona Barrie) and his brother (Paul Cavanagh). And what’s with the sinister looking Dr. Fish (Lionel Atwill in Coke-bottle glasses) who keeps popping up on Church's trail?

Despite getting frequent airings on Chiller Theater throughout the 60s, and despite its presence in a DVD boxed set of Universal Cult Horror films, this is not a horror movie, and will inevitably disappoint anyone hoping for a creepy little B-movie chiller. But if you'd like a fun, well-paced mystery in the vein of the Thin Man movies, this will be more than satisfying. I'm always up for seeing the handsome, personable Patric Knowles (pictured) and he is in almost every scene of this movie looking alternately smooth and befuddled—and even sweaty and scared in the odd climax involving the threat of him having his brain transplanted into a gorilla (the only scene that comes close to a horror movie feel). Mantan Moreland, stuck in the stereotypical black servant role, is actually pretty funny, especially in an early scene in which he banters with a telegram boy. I was left cold by the unfunny antics of Shemp Howard (yes, that Shemp from the Three Stooges) as a cop, though I liked Edmund MacDonald as his boss. Supposedly much of the movie was written (or improvised) as they filmed which would explain the number of plotholes and loose ends—the storyline with Crispin's brother never takes off, and the explanation for the menacing gorilla is particularly goofy. Favorite line: Church to Lily, a woman he's never met: "I'm afraid you have me at a disadvantage." Lily, smiling sexily: "That's the way to have any man!" It’s not a chiller, but it is amusing and kinda gonzo in a 40s B-movie way. [DVD]