Okay, so here’s the story. Some almighty demigod, in its infinite magnanimity, saw from aloft how enraged, sorrowful and quivering I’d become in the prolonged exposure to Monogram’s quality-challenged Charlie Chan pictures. To alleviate my pain, this noble superhuman has dried up my regular resource for Chans, which otherwise guaranteed I’d have to suffer through every one of the 10 remaining Charlie Chan movies – variation or no. With the Internet of all places no longer providing (and don’t think I’m about to search its bowels for the rest of this filth), and Netflix wisely eschewing the majority of Chan (due to reasons of low quality, racism, lack of interest, unavailability, etc.), I had only one option left…
I bought some entries!
I know, I’m still trying to come to terms with what I’ve done. I think I’m a masochistic idiot, as I now own four of the worst Charlie Chan pictures (not a series known for its opulence). Oh well, there’s, you know, like, academic reasons to watch these damn things, right? You know, for the blog?...Sigh. So be it.
Despite all the demigod’s efforts, we’re back where we should be anyway (for now), the 38th Charlie Chan entry, Dark Alibi. Dropping the useless Phil Rosen as director, we now have (for one mere entry) Phil Karlson, who was actually able to extricate himself from the Chan series and have a long career that included the Matt Helm movies. I salute him, because usually this franchise is a devious black hole of talent.
We’re back in the Monogram bank vault set, in the midst of a very standard robbery, the robbers never identifiable. Then a security guard sneaks down – so he’s shot dead.
Let’s get the danged suspect roster out of the way. All are ensconced as lodgers at the Foss Hotel, of proprietor Mrs. Foss (Edna Holland). There is typist Miss Petri (Janet Shaw), socialite Miss Evans (Joyce Compton), braying, slang-happy salesman Danvers (Ray Walker, but none of the four Wikipedia cares about), and traditionally bland nonentity Johnson. Most important, by her plot function and credit listing, is June Harley (Teala Loring, of Double Indemnity – which more and more seems to resemble a sick rite of passage into Monogram).
Here’s her father too, Thomas Harley (Edward Earle), who is quickly arrested by police for the bank job/murder. It’s gonna stick too, seeing as he has a poor alibi (a “dark” alibi, as it were), and his fingerprints are helpfully all over the vault set. So he’s convicted and sentenced.
Well, that was a pretty short mystery! They didn’t even need to get Charlie Chan involved this time!
Oh wait, never mind. With an over-generous 9 day timeframe before Thomas’ execution, June requests Charlie Chan’s free assistance in clearing her father’s name. And poor Chan – er, poor Sidney Toler, really. Say what I will about that drunken Swedish maniac Warner Oland, but at least Fox could make him look graceful throughout his entries, failing health or no. Not for Toler. It was increasingly obvious he was in his final years, diagnosed with cancer, and could barely even walk. But Toler could not balk out of a Monogram contract over something as minor as mortality, oh no, even when it was his generosity which even saw Monogram producing more Chan movies! So, no more graceless jitterbugging for Sidney; he’s simply propped up in his spot for every shot, left to stand motionless. Considering how listlessly blocked most of these Mono-Chans are anyway, one barely notices.
Given Toler’s reduced physicality, the burden is borne more and more by his omnipresent assistants, Tommy Chan (Benson Fong) and Birmingham Brown (Mantan Moreland). I know I say this for every Monogram entry, but once again the proportions are mangled to favor leaden comic relief over Toler’s cancerous crime-solving. As if to compensate, Monogram’s scriptwriters embrace the series’ latent racism like a life raft in a storm.
Oh right, June has a lovebird too, as we now see. Yup, with Chan becoming unreliable, you gotta toss in as many formula elements as possible. This one is Hugh Kenzie (George Holmes, but none of the six Wikipedia cares about).
Questioning the usual suspects is yielding nothing, so Chan heads off to prison (for the first on-screen time ever) to interview Thomas. He suspects fingerprint forgery – naturally, Crime Lab™ is on the task to take up Chan’s slack on this one, at the plot’s convenience. But while Chan is accomplishing little, Tommy and Birmingham are here, with the prison as the latest setting to house their incompetencies.
First up, the demigod tosses me a bone, allowing Birmingham (Mantan) to recreate the best thing that’s happened so far in the Monogram series: his “interrupted sentence” routine with former standup partner Ben Carter. It’s no different than before, so the novelty is gone; still, it remains the one redeemable grace for Birmingham and the Mono-Chans both.
Mantan: “I saw old –”
Ben: “Is he still out there?”
Mantan: “I thought he was, but –”
Ben: “He got out?”
Birmingham is reasonably funny in this context. Sadly, he isn’t when repaired with Tommy. Together, this duo is tasked with neglecting brain cells, and growing terrified of the obvious, labored gag setups free-roaming prisoners are saddled with. Somehow, in their comic bungling, Tommy and Birmingham are successful at instigating a full-on prison riot. It could be amusing, or exciting, or something, but that’s beyond the studio’s Monograsp.
Back to plot: While Chan’s been eating up screen time with his tragic immobility, he’s had off-screen policemen piece together the mystery for him. See, a series of other bank robberies has previously occurred, all under the same M.O. In each case, a separate ex-con was arrested; Thomas himself happens to be an ex-con. And these men were all behind bars together in the film’s off-brand San Quentin, State Prison.
Back at the Foss Hotel, June screams…Well…that didn’t amount to much.
Following another “clue” (i.e. the producers’ next idea of where it would be “funny” to send Chan’s assistants), our series regulars head down to the Carey Theatrical Warehouse – the place Thomas claims he was locked during the robbery. Here they narrowly escape a murder attempt on Chan (that is, it’s the 35th minute), as a truck barely misses them. “Woman driver,” Tommy quips, proving there was a time when this lame gag was actually cutting edge.
As Chan is away not getting the story squared away, Tommy and Birmingham are let loose to randomly, purposelessly explore the warehouse. This is an old, tiresome joke. Every prop in the place has a face on it – therefore, ever prop in the place terrifies Birmingham (because he’s black, lives in the ‘40s, and is thus easily terrified). As if making up for the class of Ben Carter’s cameo, Monogram somehow has to make it up to the white racists in the audience with such awful material. Ain’t it just knee slapping?, how Birmingham is scared of A) a stuffed lynx, B) a wooden crocodile, C) a cigar store Indian (racist in and of itself), and D) a skeleton…Oh skeletons, is there any B-movie from this decade that is not graced by your bony charms?
Even Birmingham’s accent is getting worse, sounding more “Sambo” than ever. “Tommy,” for instance, is now rendered “Thohmmiiiieeeeieiiieehh!” Even when he’s not scared (which ain’t often).
Johnson is found there (he owns the place, exceedingly awkward exposition reveals), pretending to be deaf. Chan disproves this by dropping a coin on the floor, as Johnson dives for the cash. I imagine the script’s first draft gave Johnson a more Jewish name. WWII aside, I wouldn’t put it past these people.
Chan et al return to State Prison, to accomplish the same thing they failed to accomplish the first time – find a forger. Due to matters of screen time (it’s hell filling out 60 minutes you know), or many simply matters of good entertainment (ha!), Ben Carter is back, for a reprise of his routine. This is lazy, and the charm is again lost somewhat…Still, it’s the best thing about Dark Alibi.
Ben: “I heard –”
Mantan: “Not until Christmas.”
Ben: “I never thought he –”
Mantan: “No he didn’t.”
Then Ben leaves again, abandoning Birmingham to fashion something resembling comedy with Tommy. Do accomplish this, they play that same insane Mandarin hand game Jackie Chan made famous in Shanghai Noon.
Plot: Chan fingers the fingerprint forger’s forgeries. The culprit is prisoner Slade – the warden, functioning with Monogram levels of intellect, gets on the prison’s PA system to bring Slade in. Thus Slade somehow manages to get himself a rifle (inept guards), and engages a mass of Monogram’s thug extras in a reasonably violent shootout. (The namby-pamby Hays people paid B-movies less attention.) “Come and get me, coppers!” Slade actually yells – thank you, demigod, for that one – as the guards shoot him down with Tommy guns. Tommy, of course, never once touches his namesake weapon. These movies aren’t that clever.
So…our main witness is dead, for very stupid reasons. Good thing Crime Lab™ is here, having determined how Slade was forging the fingerprints anyway. And now it’s only a question of Chan finding out whom Slade’s contact was.
So it’s back to the warehouse! That same deadly truck (which meanwhile murdered Petrie, I nearly forgot) sits idle, the forgery equipment prominent inside. Convenient. Even more convenient, the killer suddenly appears to satisfy Monogram’s action quotient, having an unsuccessful shootout with an immobile, cancer-ridden Charlie Chan. Tommy and Birmingham, meanwhile, secure that truck, drive it crashing through the warehouse’s props just like in Disneyland’s “Mr. Toad’s Wild Ride,” and – kill the killer. Who is Danvers. It’s crazy, this scene is! I do like it when these movies get desperate, illogical and nuts.
Thomas is exonerated, but Chan predictably announces that the case isn’t closed yet – There is always one final act of brain usin’, even while insane warehouse hit-and-runs have replaced parlor inquiries as our climaxes. So Chan accuses our final bad guy, without even presenting evidence or reasoning or anything…It’s Kenzie, June’s boyfriend! Well, fine, Monogram, you just want to “surprise” me with your culprits, and I guess sheer randomness is a pretty good way of doing that.
Then Ben Carter is there (again), allowing Charlie Chan himself to attempt the same old routine. His delivery lets one realize just how talented Mantan Moreland really was.
Well…it was just another Chan movie. Again due to reasons of extreme blog buffer, it’s actually been half a week since I saw a Charlie Chan – That pause is just what I needed to make this halfway watchable. Again, good job, demigod. I realize watching these things on a daily basis has been awful for my mental health, but…only three more to go! (Unless I somehow offend the gods, and the series’ tail end becomes available. I hope that doesn’t happen.)
Related posts:
• No. 3 Behind That Curtain (1929)
• No. 4 Charlie Chan Carries On (1931)
• No. 5 The Black Camel (1931)
• No. 9 Charlie Chan in London (1934)
• No. 10 Charlie Chan in Paris (1935)
• No. 11 Charlie Chan in Egypt (1935)
• No. 12 Charlie Chan in Shanghai (1935)
• No. 13 Charlie Chan’s Secret (1936)
• No. 14 Charlie Chan at the Circus (1936)
• No. 15 Charlie Chan at the Race Track (1936)
• No. 16 Charlie Chan at the Opera (1936)
• No. 17 Charlie Chan at the Olympics (1937)
• No. 18 Charlie Chan on Broadway (1937)
• No. 19 Charlie Chan at Monte Carlo (1938)
• No. 20 Charlie Chan in Honolulu (1938)
• No. 21 Charlie Chan in Reno (1939)
• No. 22 Charlie Chan at Treasure Island (1939)
• No. 23 City in Darkness (1939)
• No. 24 Charlie Chan in Panama (1940)
• No. 25 Charlie Chan at the Wax Museum (1940)
• No. 26 Charlie Chan’s Murder Cruise (1940)
• No. 27 Murder Over New York (1940)
• No. 28 Dead Men tell (1941)
• No. 29 Charlie Chan in Rio (1941)
• No. 30 Castle in the Desert (1942)
• No. 31 Charlie Chan in the Secret Service (1944)
• No. 32 The Chinese Cat (1944)
• No. 33 Meeting at Midnight (1944)
• No. 34 The Shanghai Cobra (1945)
• No. 35 The Red Dragon (1945)
• No. 36 The Scarlet Clue (1945)
• No. 37 The Jade Mask (1945)
• No. 40 Dangerous Money (1946)
• No. 41 The Trap (1946)
• No. 42 The Chinese Ring (1947)
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