The Falcon in Mexico

"The Falcon in Mexico" is a 1944 entry into "The Falcon" series, by now starring Tom Conway. In this story, Tom Lawrence (The Falcon) is in Mexico investigating the possibility that a dead artist might not be so dead after all, after he sees the model for one of the artist's portraits. The artist has been dead 15 years, but if that's the case, this woman has discovered the secret of eternal youth - until she winds up dead. Did I mention the portrait looks like a paint by numbers? Martha Vickers plays the artist's daughter, who keeps "seeing" her father. Mona Maris is her remarried stepmother who dances in a Mexican club with her new husband.

The movie is okay, with an abrupt ending, which isn't unusual in these films, and the movie seems like an ad for visiting Mexico. Supposedly some of the footage is from the Orson Welles' debacle "It's All True." If so, I'm glad RKO found good use for it.

after 16 minutes anyway. Not that it detracts from a nice little comedy-mystery, but this was an even cheaper affair than usual from RKO as they used up a lot of stock rustic Mexican background film to lilting music here while the main characters glided or drove about in front. Tom Conway as the Falcon looked as handsome and debonair as ever (no. 9/13 – I don't count those last 3 non-RKO efforts with John Calvert), and had to do without the comedy double act of Clark and Gargan from now on.

Investigation of a painting painted by a dead man (with an art gallery eerily similar to the one in Woman In The Window) leads to murder and theft; the Falcon is chased by the cops while he's chasing the baddies all the way into deepest Mexico. The dead painter's daughter was played chockful of feminine intuition by Martha Vickers, next step for her was the cute Big Sleep. She also uttered my favourite line from all of the Falcon films – "My father lived at this inn while he was alive" – wonderful stuff! Nestor Paiva played a helpful ambiguous peasant and Joseph Vitale a rather unhelpful serious dancer, some of their best stuff was to come later with Paramount. The only downer was the climax could've been handled with a little more sensitivity, but in these pics time was money!

Another excellent and engrossing Falcon outing for the cognoscenti, serious people shouldn't waste their valuable time.

This is the ninth Falcon film, and a particularly good one. It contains some very good second unit material shot in Mexico, so there must have been a large budget for that, as it must have taken at least two or three weeks on location. It took a lot of editing to intercut all that with the actors back home in the studio. Tom Conway is in fine form, and there is some crackling dialogue as usual: 'Are you following me around?' 'I've been doing nothing else since we first met.' No prizes for figuring out who said that. There are excellent performances from two Hispanic actors, Fernando Alvarado is a charming little Mexican boy, and Nestor Paiva is excellent in a major supporting role. Martha Vickers is suitably alluring and ambiguous as a typical Falcon heroine. One would like to have some time alone with her in her dressing room (just for research purposes, of course). The plot is solid, a truly puzzling mystery this time, with so many possible villains that the fingers on both hands seem hardly sufficient. This is an excellent unpretentious B picture, just the sort of thing one wants in the Falcon series.

For my time, I would much rather watch an earlier Falcon film. That's because the George Sanders films were usually better written and more exciting--as well as starred the wonderful Sanders. With THE FALCON'S BROTHER, Sanders' real-life brother, Tom Conway, took over the leading role since Sanders wanted out of the series in order to pursue other acting opportunities. Now this was a very logical choice, as Conway looked a lot like Sanders and also had a similar lovely melodious voice. But despite this, I still found myself missing Sanders, as to me he was THE Falcon and the earlier films were just were written better and seemed so much fresher.

By 1944, Conway's Falcon had fallen into a rather predictable pattern that must have worked well at the time because they made so many of these films during a three year stretch--a HUGE output of 9 films! The public loved them and the series was more popular than contemporaries Boston Blackie, The Lone Wolf and Crime Doctor. So, despite my complaints, the series did work. Of course, I would contend that averaging three films a year was exactly why the films seemed not quite as good as the earlier ones--they were rushed into production and didn't seem as smooth or engaging as earlier ones.

Now THE FALCON IN Mexico is a bit better than most films of this period thanks to a relatively simple but engaging mystery. A low-point in the series was THE FALCON OUT WEST and I think most of the problem with that film was that there were too many twists and turns and surprises. Plus putting Conway out West just didn't fit his style and personality, though Mexico seemed a much better change of venues.

The plot involves the possibility that a famous dead painter MIGHT actually be alive. Either that, or the damsel in distress is losing her mind, as she keeps thinking she's seen her dead father. The Falcon, naturally, comes to her aid and by the end the mystery's all naturally been revealed.

So is artist Wade alive or not. His daughter seems to think so even though he's supposedly ensconced in a crypt in Mexico. Fear not, however, the Falcon (Conway) is on the case. Actually the ingredients of a good mystery are present but the script mixes them up in a sloppy fashion. Much of the problem, as other reviewers note, is the big travelogue part, which only gets out of Hollywood proper thanks to some artistic Orson Welles stock footage. Otherwise it's process shots and RKO's backlot, along with that all-purpose ethnic Nestor Paiva (Manuel) furnishing a dollop of comic relief. Then too, the musical interludes tend to interrupt at inconvenient times. (Still, I really like the enchanting two little girl singers Hunter & Alvarez.)

What's worth watching for the guys, at least, are the gals, especially Vickers who's downright beautiful, at least in my book. I could have used a couple dozen more close-ups. Too bad the director treats her so casually. Anyway, the smooth-as-silk Conway is on hand to lend this slapdash programmer some class. But he really was better off with the great Val Lewton and his classic horror fests than he is here.