Verschollen in New York

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." (***)

For getting too rough on robbery cases, New York City detective Pat O'Brien (as "Butch" Saunders) is transferred to the "Bureau of Missing Persons" where he must answer to MGM stalwart Lewis Stone (as Captain Webb) who appears to be moonlighting at First National-Warner Bros. Typical of the missing is businessman Clay Clement (as Burton C. Kingman) - found honeymooning with a woman who is not his wife. Also located by Mr. O'Brien is 12-year-old prodigy Tad Alexander (as Caesar Paul)...

When her husband runs away with their cook, a woman tells Mr. Stone, "Never mind about him, I want my cook!"

After a half hour getting to know smooth-talking detective Allen Jenkins (as Joe Musik) and the cast, the main case gets started when beautiful young Bette Davis (as Norma Williams) arrives on screen, to report her groom missing. Very obviously, Ms. Davis is holding back some important details about her so-called missing husband. Business is mixed with pleasure as O'Brien, separated from so-called wife Glenda Farrell (as Belle) for a year, is attracted to Davis. Stay tuned for murder and other mayhem.

***** Bureau of Missing Persons (9/8/33) Roy Del Ruth ~ Pat O'Brien, Bette Davis, Lewis Stone, Allen Jenkins

This pre-Code WB production is typical of the period—a fast-talking lead, a batch of loose dames, a rather comical supporting cast, and an upbeat tempo.

As tough, aggressive cop named "Butch", O'Brien machine-guns his dialogue in pretty strident tones. Trouble is it does get tiresome. As Butch, he's sent over to Missing Persons Bureau from his former assignment to hopefully mellow out. Fat chance. Anyway, the screenplay weaves a number of missing person cases into the narrative, with the Bette Davis case being primary. An authoritative, no-nonsense Lewis Stone presides over the bureau that makes you believe he can handle the thuggish new guy. This was before Stone became enshrined in the Andy Hardy series. On the whole, Davis may get the billing but it's really O'Brien's movie.

With the comically adept likes of Farrell, Jenkins, Herbert, and Donnelly, there're a number of chuckles. But what I really like is that bit of business at the coffee bar, where condiments slide back and forth like hockey pucks. I wonder if that was director Del Ruth, a generally underrated craftsman with occasional flair. Despite the title, there's no mystery but there is some suspense near the end. All in all, the 73-minutes is more like a fabric of characters colorfully interwoven.

If you've already seen all the well-known studio films from the early 30's, it's fun to go back and fill in with some lesser known ones, like this typical Warner's B-movie.

Its director, Roy del Ruth, was strictly B-list at this point in his career. The supporting cast -- Allen Jenkins, Ruth Donnelly, Glenda Farrell, Hugh Herbert -- are familiar from the Busby Berkeley movies, and each brings a stereotyped character briefly to life, which is what they were paid to do. Farrell in particular is funny as a gold-digger.

Pat O'Brien is actually the lead, although Bette Davis was given top billing. He's best known for playing butch types -- reporters, cops, soldiers, manly priests. (In this one, Butch is actually his character's name!) His performance here is surprisingly subtle and varied; it makes me want to see more of his movies.

Unfortunately the story is hopelessly implausible and unconvincing. Davis does the best she can with a confusingly-written part, although I can't quite tell whether she's trying to do an accent or not. And she changes from a blonde to a brunette halfway through -- was she shooting another picture at the same time?

The whole thing looks like it was thrown together in a couple of weeks. Probably the only really demanding scene to film was a car chase near the end, shot on location (or was it stock footage?).

All in all, probably worth 72 minutes of your time if you happen to run across it on TCM. Don't expect too much though...

Pat O'Brien, Lewis Stone, Bette Davis, Glenda Farrell, and Allen Jenkins star in "Bureau of Missing Persons," a 1933 film from Warner Brothers. I noticed that one person who posted said that this was an extremely fast-moving film. I thought it would never end.

O'Brien plays Butch Saunders, a detective who is thought to have been a little too violent in his police work, so he is assigned the Bureau. He turns out to be good at his job.

Davis plays a young woman whose husband is missing. Normally in her early films, Davis is very blond, and very glamorous. Here she's not. Her role is an interesting one, with a couple of twists. She's very good, of course, but I doubt she would have been happy in this type of role for her entire career.

There are some other plot lines going on, with Lewis Stone a kindly man who tries to help people, and Glenda Farrell gives a fun performance as Belle. It's a familiar cast in their very young days and worth seeing for that reason. I admit I found it dragged a little.