THE GOLDEN EYE (1948)

Manning, owner of the Golden Eye mine in Arizona, is in San Francisco and visits a Chinatown curio shop to speak to his old friend Wong Fai. Manning says his mine and his life are in danger and he asks about getting in touch with Charlie Chan for help. While Wong phones Chan, Manning is shot at from the street but not hurt. Chan agrees to take on his case and, along with son Tommy and chauffeur Birmingham Brown, heads out to a dude ranch, The Lazy-Y, near Manning's mine. At the pool, Chan observes a rather ostentatiously drunken guest named O'Brien, who is actually police lieutenant Mike Ruark undercover, looking into why the Golden Eye has suddenly gone from being almost fallow to producing a large increase in gold, and Lt. Mike cultivates a relationship with Driscoll, the mine superintendent, to get more info. Visiting Manning's home, Chan meets up Manning's daughter Evelyn and local assayer Bartlett (who seems a bit sweet on Evelyn), and finds out that Manning had a serious injury in the mine and is recovering in his bedroom, wrapped in bandages and unable to speak, under the constant supervision of a somewhat suspicious nursing sister (in a plot point borrowed from THE LADY VANISHES). In short order, Chan and Lt. Mike discover a gold smuggling operation, with cheap Mexican gold brought in across the border and passed off as coming from a new vein of gold at the mine. Given the small number of characters, it's not difficult to figure out who is behind the operation, but how will Chan expose the guilty party?

This entry in the Charlie Chan series, featuring the fourth appearance of Roland Winters as Chan, is a bit above average if only due to the unusual Arizona setting. Winters is fine, Mantan Moreland steals most of his comic relief scenes as Birmingham, and Victor Sen Yung is, once again, son Tommy. Tim Ryan, in his second appearance as Lt. Mike is good, though his drunk scenes come perilously close to going over the top. The amateurish Wanda McKay barely registers as the daughter. There are really only two possible bad guys; as Bartlett, Bruce Kellogg gives the best supporting cast performance more or less by default, since Ralph Dunn is fairly colorless as Driscoll. The very best moment in the film is the final minute: after Chan has explained the case, Birmingham turns directly to the camera in wide-eyed wonder and says, "Ain’t that somethin'? Good gracious me!" This might not turn you into a Winters fan but it's enjoyable if you already are. Pictured are Kellogg, McKay and Winters. [DVD]