Showing posts with label Mary Beth Hughes. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Mary Beth Hughes. Show all posts
Private detective Michael Shayne is on the cusp of marrying his girlfriend, Joanne (Mary Beth Hughes), when murder intervenes and he discovers a couple of corpses at a theatrical (in every sense of the word) dinner party. The producer-host and an actress, both in costume, have been killed by an unknown party. It isn't long before Shayne is forgetting all about his nuptials and is frantically running about trying to solve the murders. Rarely is an actor cast as private eye Michael Shayne who is anything like the character created by novelist Brett Halliday, and homely Lloyd Nolan -- who played the part in several movies -- is no exception. However, miscast though he may be (he makes Shayne come off like a song and dance comedian), he gives an ingratiating performance. Hughes (The Cowboy and the Blonde) doesn't make much of an impression in this as his fiancee, but there are snappy performances from Henry Daniell [The Four Skulls of Jonathan Drake], Mantan Moreland, Erwin Kalser, Milton Parsons [The Monster That Challenged the World], Virginia Brissac, and May Beatty, among others. The mystery plot itself has some clever moments.
Verdict: Acceptable if minor-league Shayne. **1/2.
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| Lana Turner and Richard Carlson |
"She stinks!"
Just when the Dancing Tobins are to begin a new film, Toddy Tobin (a barely-seen Mary Beth Hughes) gets pregnant, and the search is on for someone to co-star with her husband, Freddy (Lee Bowman sans mustache). Learning that the studio is to conduct a talent search on college campuses, Freddy protests that he needs a professional, so it is decided to fix the contest, send talented Patty Marlowe (Lana Turner) to one of the institutions, and make damn certain that she is the winner. Patty gets involved with the editor of the school paper, "Pug" Braddock (Richard Carlson), who figures there has to be a "plant" and decides to ferret out who she is even as Patty assists him as a way of hiding the truth. Will Patty go to Hollywood, or will her scheme come undone? The movie begins well, but the fun peters out halfway through or earlier, and you'll find that you couldn't care less how it comes out. The script lets down the players, who are game and enthusiastic throughout, with Turner [Love Has Many Faces] and Carlson [All I Desire] swell in the leads, Ann Rutherford perky as a secretary who helps Patty, Leon Errol his usual fun self as Patty's father, and Thurston Hall and Monty Woolley also briefly on hand as well. I think I spotted drummer Buddy Rich a couple of times. Band leader Artie Shaw, playing himself, is third-billed but only gets one line of dialogue! He must have impressed Lana Turner, however, because she married him the following year [he also married Ava Gardner and Evelyn Keyes, among others]. Hal Le Sueur, Joan Crawford's brother, plays a handsome college student but has no lines. S. Sylvan Simon also directed the far superior The Fuller Brush Man.
Verdict: Picture could have been cute but it turns into a stink bomb.**
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| Joseph Allen and Lynn Bari |
"There goes "Malicious."
George Nordyke (Joseph Allen) is an insecure husband whose manhood is threatened by the fact that his wife, Lynn (Lynn Bari of Shock), is better at everything and even bagged the moose, Stinky, that hangs in their game room. When George almost literally runs into a more demure blonde named Lola May (Mary Beth Hughes of The Lady Confesses), he falls in love with her and he and Lynn decide to divorce, against the better judgment of their friend, Inspector "Camp" Campbell (Truman Bradley). Lynn winds up dating a radio musician named Victor Roselli (Nils Asther of Storm at Daybreak) and things get weird -- but still dull -- after one of the group gets murdered. Allen and Bari give it their all, but the script is horrible and there are few if any laughs. Kay Linaker tries to inject some life as Lynn's friend, Hedda, as does Thurston Hall as her hubby, and Mary Treen is as adept as ever as yet another maid, Olga. This doesn't even have the courage of its convictions.
Verdict: Not as much fun as clipping your toenails. *.