Vashirdfel Simply A Masterpiece

Sexyloutak Absolutely the worst movie.

Siflutter It's easily one of the freshest, sharpest and most enjoyable films of this year.

Beulah Bram A film of deceptively outspoken contemporary relevance, this is cinema at its most alert, alarming and alive.

weezeralfalfa In general, I'm not into film noires. However, this one was wackier than the ones I've seen, understanding that it's supposed to be a spoof of the genre. This is one of a triumvirate of films costarring Bob Hope, titled "My Favorite......", released between 1942 and 1951. I haven't seen the other two yet: "My Favorite Blond" and "My Favorite Spy", each with a different cute costar: Dorothy Lamour in this one. A highly contrived plot, basically about the disposition of the mineral rights for a piece of land owned by a wheelchair-bound uncle of Dorothy's character, A central part of the screenplay involves fighting over the possession of a piece of paper with a map of the location of the minerals, with a code not attached to the map, which only Dorothy's uncle and a geologist know. The bad guys have kidnapped said uncle, hoping to get the code from him. But Hope has hidden the map, given to him by Dorothy for safe keeping. Dorothy has hired Hope as a detective, believing him to be the professional detective whose office is next to Hope's photography lab. Dorothy says she's afraid the kidnappers will kill her uncle if she goes to the police about the kidnapping, so why she wants a private eye.(Why would the kidnappers want to kill Dorothy's uncle, if only he knows an essential bit of information?)I wish they had named either Montay or Montague something else, since they include 3 of the main characters, and I sometimes got mixed up who they were talking about.The finale made little sense to me. Hope's character is on death row as the supposed murderer of geologist James Collins. Just why he or Peter Lorre's character(the real murderer) would want Collins dead isn't clear to me. Collins drew the map everyone wants, and devised the code for the map. Lorre destroyed the recording of his admission of guilt. All we have is the negative of Hope's photo showing that the man he was told is Dorothy's uncle must be an imposter. How does this prove Hope's innocence of the murder?? As a geology enthusiast, I checked out the said relationship between a cryolite deposit and supposed included uranium. I found no indication that cryolite deposits contain significant uranium. Significant cryolite deposits are very rare, and it is important as a flux in converting bauxite into metallic aluminum. Thus, the cryolite itself might be more valuable than uranium, which is found in various places around the world.

dougdoepke Lively Hope romp. He's a ditzy PI who couldn't find his shoes in a lighted closet. Good thing he's got Dottie Lamour to help him out of jams. Trouble is he's got to get a map before the bad guys do. Otherwise who knows what will happen. And get a load of the gang. Looks like Columbia turned out all their thick ears for this one, including the sly little Lorre. And what's with his name, "Kismet", when I thought that was a Broadway musical. But I especially like Chaney Jr. as the little brain in the big body. Sounds like he's doing a version of Lenny from Of Mice and Men (1939), with even a reference to "a rabbit". Funny how Chaney can be likable no matter how menacing he looks.Surprise, surprise, Hope's gag lines fly fast and furious. So if you don't chuckle at this one, there's another coming right up. Hope really has his cowardly alter-ego down pat. Heck, he even plays to the camera now and then, just to make sure we're not getting too serious. But oh my gosh, putting him on death row in the beginning had me really worried that his bad jokes had finally done him in. But not to worry, he's still got a long-term contract to do movies as entertaining as this one. Which thankfully, he does.

moonspinner55 Bob Hope in one of his better comedies of the 1940s, a clever satire of noir mysteries (Raymond Chandler, in particular) which substitutes hard-boiled for soft-boiled without losing the essence of a good crime story. A baby-photographer in San Francisco is found in the neighboring offices of a vacationing private detective by a femme fatale, who unwittingly hires the would-be gumshoe to help find her missing uncle. Edmund Beloin and Jack Rose penned the dandy original screenplay, neatly skirting the spoofy/silly undercurrent which marred many of Hope's starring vehicles of the era. Dorothy Lamour (with the wonderful character name Carlotta Montay) is the supposedly schizophrenic and paranoid client; Peter Lorre is her evil valet; and nobody cracks walnuts like muscle-stooge Lon Chaney. Fresh and witty, with a surprising hint of sex appeal, a solid production, and two terrific star-cameos as a bonus. *** from ****

Bill Slocum On the streets of San Francisco, a mysterious woman named Carlotta appears out of the blue asking a man to help her. He's not really a private detective, but he's so swept off his feet he acts the part anyway. Then her story unravels. He suspects her sanity, not realizing he's only one step behind her en route to the sanitarium."Nutty as a fruitcake, but with all that beautiful frosting!" That's not James Stewart talking about Kim Novak, but rather Bob Hope on the subject of Dorothy Lamour, his co-star in this farcical takeoff of the film noir, made more than ten years before Hitchcock's "Vertigo". Maybe the Master should have called it "Deja Vu" instead.That's not entirely fair. "Vertigo" is a classic on many levels, whereas "My Favorite Brunette" is an amiable timekiller with Hope solid if not sharp, making the best of an uneven set of wisecracks and a wrong-man story even weaker than the one Carlotta spins at the outset. Still, Peter Lorre is on hand to lend the film some Hitchcockian gravitas as one of the key hoods, and the opening set up showing Hope at San Quentin telling his tale to reporters as he awaits the gas chamber gets things off right.Hope is Ronnie Jackson, a baby photographer whose office is next door to a detective he idolizes. The detective chooses to leave Ronnie alone in his office just as Carlotta walks in, to tell of a man who is either her husband, her uncle, or neither, hand him a ring and a map, and lead him on a chase involving keyhole cameras and invisible golf balls which pits him against Lorre ("Ol' Shortenin' Bread" Ronnie calls him), slick southerner Charles Dingle ("Mint Julep") and muscle man Lon Chaney Jr. ("Boulder Dam with legs").Seeing Hope's mock-tough-guy persona go through the paces of a Raymond Chandler-style potboiler is fun. He's all show but never learns, to the point that when he jumps a middle-aged woman in one scene, the joke isn't him losing so much as him thinking he could win.In the beginning we see him on Death Row asking the warden about a reprieve from the governor: "No word, huh? Well, I'll know who to vote for next time." Every time he smokes a cigarette, he tries to sneer at the guard, only he ends up nearly coughing instead.Director Elliott Nugent keeps the story moving, which helps with the holes, but the film-noir mood he establishes at the opening quickly dissipates into a shooting gallery for Hope's one-liners. Edmund Belion and Jack Rose, the screenwriters, miss a good opportunity to use the story as more of a send-up. Alas, the mystery is played too much on the level, and except for some reaction shots from Lorre, we never see the villains as part of the comedy.But it's Hope, it's the 1940s, which means you are in for a good time. Plus one thing "Vertigo" didn't have, a terrific last line. Watch it once, and it will be the biggest smile you take away from this underbaked charmer.