You'll find all sorts of gems by noodling around in films of the 30s and 40s. Some absolute treasures await you in unlikely places. One of these is in various experiments in the detective story that were being conducted at the time.
And sometimes a series in this period yields riches in how it evolves. But I can tell you that except in one respect this film is so poor in content and interest, you should avoid it. I'm not talking about production values here or even questions about the sense of the mystery.
We've never let them get in the way before if there is a core that rewards.
Everyone seems tired here (except for that one element I'll mention below). Toler was in his seventies and can merely grimace. The Confucianisms that were clever in a few Chan movies are rote and childish here. The plot bumps about until it tumbles down all the stairs allotted to it.
The one bright light is Mantan Mooreland. The series is, after all, about how one race, the Chinese, have gifts inscrutable insight and some wisdom. Its always been peppered by the caveat of race by the comical black man. Mantan plays this man, the childish chauffeur (usually called a driver).
He's terrified, a coward. And he's ignorant. Combining these two with minstrel characteristics and you get a stuttering, bug eyed foil that easily is well over the line in offensive.
And yet. He is such an artist. His timing is so sublime, that you have to just watch him in awe. He's a star, a great actor. If we don't burden Brando by thinking that he is actually his characters, why should we do so here?
He's in more watchable films, and just as appealing in how he connects. But if you happen to accidentally be watching this, he'll give some relief.
Ted's Evaluation -- 1 of 3: You can find something better to do with this part of your life.
