Bank Alarm

Bank Alarm is a pretty straightforward, pull no punches actioner that pits a married (nice!) couple of a G-Man and (yes) G-Woman, against a counterfeit money ring. The bad guys you see, popped the counterfeiter of the money they are planning to distribute. (thanks to the descriptions of 5! Count em! 5! Newspaper headlines we get to see), The G-People, as I like to call them, methodically step by step, follow the pieces of the puzzle until the end until it's somewhat predictably conclusion. Actually, this is so straightforward, there's hardly any suspense happening, But still, it does have it's moments, but I could have done away with the lame comedy bits provided by Vince Barnett.

This film begins with an agent for the Department of Justice by the name of "Alan O'Connor" (Conrad Nagel) along with his assistant "Bobbie Reynolds" (Eleanor Hunt) being sent to investigate a series of bank robberies in and around Los Angeles. However, upon starting their investigation they discover that their lead suspect has been killed while in jail awaiting questioning. That being said, they have no recourse other than to wait and see whether the bank heists continue and then follow up accordingly. It's during this time that Alan's sister "Kay O'Connor" (Wilma Francis) arrives and eager to show her around they invite her and a male friend she met on the airplane named "Jerry Turner" (Frank Milan) out to dinner. What they don't know is that Jerry has just flown in to join up with the bank robbers in a particular heist planned later in the week and is planning on using his relationship with Kay should anything go wrong. Now rather than reveal any more I will just say that this was a basic crime-drama from the 30's which clearly shows its age. To that end, although it flows smoothly enough, I didn't especially care for the inclusion of the bumbling photographer named "Clarence 'Bulb' Callahan" (Vince Barnett) who was brought in for comedic effect as it cheapened the overall effect. Be that as it may, while this wasn't a bad film necessarily, it could have been better and for that reason I have rated it as just slightly below average.

Clean-cut Conrad Nagel has a quick smile and ready wit as a federal agent on the trail of a pair of bank robbers whose brief stay in a small-town jail provides them with the perfect alibi when the local bank is robbed. A routine low-budget programmer that will fade quickly from the memory. The obligatory comic relief character - a clumsy photographer named Bulb - is particularly irritating.

I don't known what it was about Hollywood in the 1930s, but there's a certain class of movie of which we got a glut in those first years after the talkie became the predominant form. No few titles of the decade are competently made, with a duly engaging narrative of some variety, but carry themselves with such an unbothered, even-keeled tone that it's all too easy to tune in and check out, and one has to be careful that they don't blink and miss five or ten minutes. Is it that studios were relying on the conglomeration of light AND sound to entrance viewers, so they could get by with material and execution that was less robust? Is it that filmmakers were broadly still acclimating to shooting with sound, and in one capacity or another the end product suffered? Were writers pressured to churn out one screenplay after another, whether to make a quick buck during the Great Depression and/or to take advantage of the new advances, and quality suffered in turn? I don't know what the answer is, but 'Bank alarm' fits the bill neatly.

It's not bad. There's some light humor, though some is overly silly, as if two different screenplays were written for this crime story - one a drama, the other comedy - and they were smashed together into one with a resulting uneven tenor. The story is fine, though with the way it's assembled here there's no possibility for major excitement, as half the puzzle pieces are largely laid out for the audience before the characters find them, and the other half are revealed with that same unbothered, even-keeled tone. The cast give suitable performances; the stunts and effects are capably executed. All the fundamentals are fine: direction, cinematography, editing (if sometimes too curt), sets, costume design, hair and makeup (if less than remarkable). And so on, and so on. We sit, we watch, the plot turns in this or that direction, an hour passes, and then we move on with our day and remember nothing about the viewing experience. 'Bank alarm' is hardly the only picture to share these characteristics, but that doesn't make it better.

If you're looking for something light, a feature that doesn't require substantial commitment as a viewer even at the climax, and don't mind some ham-handedness, you could do a lot worse. If you're looking for something that will keep you firmly enraptured and heavily invested, a masterpiece of cinema that you will think about for a long time to come, keep on looking. There's even some minor cleverness here, if you don't blink and miss it, but one way or another this is far from a must-see. If you happen across it and are so inclined, there are worse ways to pass the time than 'Bank alarm.'

Conrad Nagel is an investigator for the Justice Department. With the assistance of Eleanor Hunt, he is trying to trail down some bank robbers operating out of Hollywood. Little do the pair suspect that one of the gang is Frank Milan, who is posing as a writer and romancing Nagel's sister, Wilmer Francis.

It's the fourth and last pairing of Nagel and Hunt for Grand National, and the direction by Louis Gasnier is all right, if a bit talky. Less amusing to me is comic relief Vince Barnett. Barnett had a reputation as a real-life practical joker, but his appearances in movies tend to be mechanical and not very funny. In this one, he's a newspaper photographer whose tripod is always knocked under; he gets tangled up in the story from his second job, moonlighting as a private detective, for no obvious reason; apparently his unadorned pratfalls were considered amusing. I don't find them so.

In the 1920s, Conrad Nagel was one of those male leading men who could co-star with a woman and not overshadow her. With the dawn of sound, his cultured, recordable voice made him much in demand for a few years. However, while always competent, his appeal was rather wan; one reviewer noted "he looked like Leslie Howard without the raw Latin sexuality." Fortunately, he was well respected, was President of the Academy of Motion Pictures Arts & Science, did well in radio and on stage.