Dressed to Kill

The third Michael Shayne film Lloyd Nolan made for Fox. This one has hard-boiled detective Shayne (Lloyd Nolan) set to marry his sweetheart (Mary Beth Hughes) but a double homicide in a theatre draws his attention away. Nolan is great in this role. He was made for delivering the snappy dialogue that was the best part of the Michael Shayne films. Mary Beth Hughes is very cute but doesn't get much to do here. She appeared in two other Shayne movies, playing a different character in each one. Nice supporting cast includes William Demarest, Henry Daniell, and pretty Sheila Ryan. Demarest is especially fun. Mantan Moreland and Ben Carter also provide some comic relief. It's a good B detective picture helped by healthy doses of comedy. I also liked the moments of weirdness such as when Shayne first discovers the murder victims in their bizarre costumes. It's a good way to pass the time if you like detective stories.

Economical B movie that has a snappy pace and some terrific lines. Among the best "The stork that brought you should have been arrested for dope peddling!" Lloyd Nolan is perfect in the lead, attractive but believably an everyday guy that you'd run into as a private detective. Always a reliable supporting player whether cast as a heavy or a hero he gets a chance to hold down the star spot in this. One of the great things about the old lower budget films was the opportunities it presented for the quality secondary actors in A level productions to play parts with a bit more variety. William Demarest and Henry Daniell play their stock characters but as always extremely well and add zing to the picture. Something that probably came and went without much fanfare at its release this is a snappy little pic that will please most viewers.

Dressed to Kill is one of the most enjoyable 'B' movies I've ever seen. Lloyd Nolan is terrific as Michael Shayne, detective, and his supporting cast is superb to say the least. William Demarest is the best hapless police inspector this side of James Gleason, a youthful Henry Daniell plays a stuck up prig to perfection, Milton Parsons is a bad baddie, and we even get small turns from Mantan Moreland and Billy Benedict. The story is reasonably well written, fast paced, and a lot of fun.

Despite some notable features, this programmer fails to rise above standard detective shows of the time. Nonetheless, the opening scene is a hoot, as a double-breasted Shayne (Nolan) gets harassed by an aggressive clothing salesman. In fact, Nolan's the best thing about the film. His fast-talking brash personality holds a center of attention. I'm just sorry we don't see more of Mary Beth Hughes whose brassy personality is a perfect foil for her meandering fiancée, Shayne. Then there're two exotics from the period—creepy Milton Parsons (Max) in a beard no less, plus snooty Henry Daniell (Julian) getting sympathetic treatment for a change.

That initial murder scene remains a grabber. The dog's head plopped onto one of the corpses is like nothing I've seen and shows real imagination. The trouble, for me at least, is that the whodunit part never really gels, despite clever touches with the murder weapon. At the same time, the pacing is uneven, better suited at times to character study than to plot. There's also the standard dumb cop humor, plus Mantan Moreland doing his familiar bug-eyed comedic bit.

All in all, it's an unexceptional entry, mainly for fans of Nolan, myself included.

I sat bolt upright at the end of this movie because it looked as if there was a serious error in the credits. No, I thought, I must be wrong. But I'm not. The movie's streaming on Netflix, so you can see for yourself: 20th Century Fox reversed the names of the two African-American actors who provide some of the brightest points in this bright little movie.

They often entertained as a team, and in this movie Mantan Moreland and Ben Carter play two theater janitors who first appear doing a sweet backstage dance sequence with their brooms while Mary Beth Hughes (too little of her in this movie) sings on-stage but off-screen. I loved it that the filmmakers ignored the girl singer for the greater talents of these two hoofers. Their characters are called Rusty and Sam, with the bigger part going to Rusty, who is played by Moreland, the more famous of the two. But in the final credits, the names are reversed with the roles, crediting Ben Carter as Rusty. Inexcusable. I doubt it ever happened to the Marx Brothers, or even the Ritz Brothers.

Yet IMDb has it right in its Cast and Crew listing. I find that impressive.

The movie's impressive, too-- a B movie with a ridiculously complicated plot with a lot of theatrics, quick-witted dialog, and sure-footed performances by Lloyd Nolan, William Demarest, Henry Daniell, Moreland and Carter, and Mary Beth Hughes-- of whom, as I said, there was far too little screen time. Far too little of her in movies in general, in fact.