It is a typically fun high-speed Warner's. Cocky detective Pat O'Brien has just been kicked downstairs to the eponymous branch, wearing a derby hat. Bureau chief Lewis Stone tells him that his old-fashioned brutality won't work here.
the movie starts off as a series of vignettes about the sort of people who go missing and why, ranging from cringeworthy (Hugh Herbert and Alan Jenkins argue about how put together "jigsaws" -- corpses that have been chopped up) to amusing -- one recovered husband had disappeared because his young wife had been too physically demanding.
Despite the speed of the speech (except by Stone, who maintains the same emphatic style that he would use in Andy Hardy movies) and the zip cuts, the real story doesn't begin until half an hour into this 73-minute movie, when Bette Davis walks in, asking about her missing husband. The story quickly becomes complicated and sustains interest to the end, where O'Brien wears a Fedora to symbolize his redemptive modernity.
It's an unassuming movie , meant for fun, and it goes to demonstrate the brilliance of Warners' production in this period. Both the brutality and gags are kept offstage, lending a blase attitude towards the best and the worst. Herbert gets a rare straight outing, and does a good job. It's a pity that the movies seem incapable of speed and fun like this anymore.
the movie starts off as a series of vignettes about the sort of people who go missing and why, ranging from cringeworthy (Hugh Herbert and Alan Jenkins argue about how put together "jigsaws" -- corpses that have been chopped up) to amusing -- one recovered husband had disappeared because his young wife had been too physically demanding.
Despite the speed of the speech (except by Stone, who maintains the same emphatic style that he would use in Andy Hardy movies) and the zip cuts, the real story doesn't begin until half an hour into this 73-minute movie, when Bette Davis walks in, asking about her missing husband. The story quickly becomes complicated and sustains interest to the end, where O'Brien wears a Fedora to symbolize his redemptive modernity.
It's an unassuming movie , meant for fun, and it goes to demonstrate the brilliance of Warners' production in this period. Both the brutality and gags are kept offstage, lending a blase attitude towards the best and the worst. Herbert gets a rare straight outing, and does a good job. It's a pity that the movies seem incapable of speed and fun like this anymore.