BUREAU OF MISSING PERSONS (First National Pictures for Warner Brothers, 1933), directed by Roy Del Ruth, is a fast-paced, pre-code production that has the distinction pre-dating those police shows on television by twenty or so years. The basic premise of what's to be shown is best described by its opening passage: "All over the world thousands of persons disappear every day. New York City alone reported over 27,00 missing last year. Why people prop from sight, where they go, and how they are found is the problem of a special and little known department of police – The Bureau of Missing Persons. Many incidents in this picture are taken from actual cases in police records." Or so they say.
Based on the story "Missing Men" by John Ayers and Carol Bird, the first half hour follows the day by day routine of what employees of the bureau go through on a daily basis. Joe (Allen Jenkins) checks the morgue to see if any one of the missing people on his list happens to be one of the deceased; Hank Slade (Hugh Herbert – in a straight non-comedic performance) has been looking for Gwendolyn Harris for the past six months, with no clue in sight. "Butch" Saunders (Pat O'Brien), a breezy detective with plenty of nerve (with catch phrase, "I bet you dollar six bids"), has been transferred to the bureau under Captain Webb (Lewis S. Stone), head of the department, where Saunders is to discipline himself by using common sense rather than his strong arm method. One of his first assignments is to locate Burton C. Kingman (Clay Clement), a married businessman having an affair with Alice Crane (Noel Francis). His next assignment is locating Caesar Paul (Tad Alexander), a famous boy violinist of 12, missing for ten days, who'd rather disappoint his parents (Marjorie Gateson and Wallis Clark) by being a regular boy with the fellas than having a concert career. Butch's biggest problems occur as Belle (Glenda Farrell), his wife with whom he's been separated for a year, coming to the scene demanding her allowance; and Norma Williams (Bette Davis), a former private secretary, whom Butch helps to locate her husband, Therme Roberts (Alan Dinehart), unaware that there's more to what Norma's been telling him to solve the case that involves a murder. Featured along with a huge assortment of Warner Brothers stock players (except for Lewis Stone on loan from Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer), include Ruth Donnelly (The Receptionist); Henry Kolker (Theodore Arno); George Chandler (Homer Howard); and Hobart Cavanaugh (Mr. Harris).
Although Bette Davis name heads the cast, she basically a supporting character whose character doesn't appear until 31 minutes into the start of the movie, which very much belongs to the third billed Pat O'Brien, making his Warner Brothers debut. Coming off best is the wisecracking Glenda Farrell as the gold-digging ex-wife whose three or four scenes add much to the antics at the bureau as she enters the scenes yelling for "Butchie Wutchie," yet there's one scene alone, involving Farrell, meant for laughs in 1933, might come across as a little disturbing today.
While basically serious when it comes to police methods, BUREAU OF MISSING PERSONS does have its share of unintentional laughs, especially where Lewis Stone seriously and with a straight face orders his men to hire an airplane to follow a carrying pigeon to the location of a hideout of kidnappers. Interestingly, Bette Davis, looks years older to her true age here, especially later when she changes her hair color from blonde to brown. Her character also comes and goes throughout the story, with at one point showing up at her own funeral to see how she looks in a coffin after being reported dead.
Could it be possible some of the scenes depicted are based on actual incidents? Or is it possible that the writers just simply added doses of their own originality to embellish what actually happened? For O'Brien's debut for Warners, he showed great promise to become the studio's stock player, often opposite James Cagney later on. While O'Brien worked with Davis earlier in an independent reform school melodrama of HELL'S HOUSE (Capital Films, 1932), their paths would never meet again at Warners.
Decades before Turner Classic Movies would acquire the rights to this and other nearly forgotten Warner Brothers programmers from the thirties to forties, BUREAU OF MISSING PERSONS did have its share of broadcasts prior to 1974 on WPHL, Channel 17, in Philadelphia (where I initially viewed this rare find), the now former home of the Warner Brothers classic film library. Distributed to video cassette in the 1990s, and DVD a decade later, this 75 minute programmer is never dull through its actions and performances. Remade by Warners as THE MISSING WITNESS (1937) with John Litel and Joan Dale, this original is much better, "I bet you dollar six bids." (***)
