The Keyhole

Kay Francis plays a woman being blackmailed by a former partner (Monroe Owsley). She discovers that he never got the divorce he promised and her new marriage is illegal. Hatching a scheme with her sister-in-law (Helen Ware), she flees to Havana, hoping the cad will follow. He does but so does the detective (George Brent) her husband hires to spy on her. Wild storyline becomes more believable as the film goes on because of the chemistry between Francis and Brent. Good support from Glenda Farrell, Allen Jenkins, and Clarence Wilson. This ranks as one of Kay Francis' best women's pictures of the early 30s--with One Way Passage and Confession.

Peeping through THE KEYHOLE we find an unhappy wife who sails to Cuba to shake off a blackmailing former lover, not knowing that her millionaire husband has sent a handsome detective to compromise her...

This elaborately plotted little picture is a very fine example of the kind of film Warner Bros. produced so effortlessly in the 1930's. Frothy, a bit silly & fun, it boasts entertaining performances and good production values. Depression audiences sat through scores of movies just like this, generally well made, but with interchangeable plots & stars.

Kay Francis & George Brent handle the romantic situations very nicely. Sophisticated & charming, they keep their stock characters from ever becoming dull. The humor is supplied by brassy blonde Glenda Farrell as a gold digging shill & dumb-as-dirt detective Allen Jenkins.

Henry Kolker as the suspicious husband, Helen Ware as his elderly, sympathetic sister, and Monroe Owsley as the oily Lothario, all add to the fun in their supporting roles. Especially enjoyable is little Ferdinand Gottschalk, appearing in only one scene as a comically flirtatious old banker.

Movie mavens will recognize sour-faced Clarence Wilson as the head of the detective agency.

Kay Francis is being blackmailed by her first husband, Monroe Owsley, who seems straight out of an early silent movie, his villainy and makeup are so overdone. He does everything but twirl his mustache.

Unfortunately he never got divorced from Francis, who unknowingly married rich old Henry Kolker. Owsley is blackmailing her - she decides to go to Cuba, where apparently he will stranded on foreign soil. Francis poses as a single woman to avoid publicity.

Meanwhile, suspicious husband Kolker hires handsome detective/gigolo George Brent. There's a funny scene where we first meet Brent having set a governor's wife in a compromising position with him. Hearing there's a police raid, all of the men pour out of the rooms. When the elevator operator asks, "First floor, Mr. Smith?" all of the men go "Yes!" Brent's behavior is kind of uncomfortable. He stalks and pesters Francis throughout the ocean voyage and in Cuba, attempting to seduce her. She does her best to fend him off without telling him that she's married. But he refuses to take no for an answer. Francis even takes a room on another floor to avoid him but he founds out her room number and shows up. So does Owsley. So does Kolker, who is finally suspicious enough of Brent to fly there.

I'll leave it at that. Everything ties up nicely, even though Francis seems oddly unbothered that Brent was paid to seduce her. Brent is too boyish - I kept thinking how much better William Powell would have been. Allen Jenkins and Glenda Farrell lend comic support.

Her gowns are spectacular, a big part of why the film is enjoyable. There's a costume change in every scene!

"The Key Hole" is one of those "If you've seen one, you've seen them all" type films, though it's certainly not bad. Francis plays Ann Brooks, married to a wealthy man (Henry Kolker).

Ann was married before, to Maurice (Monroe Owsley) who never got the divorce he promised her and is now blackmailing her because of it. She works out a scheme with her sister-in-law Portia (Helen Ware) to lure him out of the country, and then Portia would use her influence to have his visa taken away.

As part of the plan, Ann heads for Havana by ship, with Maurice following. Her suspicious husband has hired a detective, Neil Davis (George Brent) to try and seduce her, and along with Brent comes his spy, Hank Wales (Allen Jenkins). Wales meets Dot (Glenda Farrell), and these two provide the film's humor.

Well, you can guess what happens.

Kay Francis wears many fabulous gowns. I used to think the kind of lifestyle her character lived was just in the movies until I saw a 1930s Vogue magazine. What a formal time that was, with people dressing to the nines for lunch and to do any kind of traveling.

Almost all the ads in Vogue were for trips on ocean liners. We've come a long way, and I'm not sure that's a good thing.

Anyway, the film is predictable, but Francis is good, as are Jenkins and Farrell. Brent is very smooth and charming.

Kay Francis made these films by the truckload, and I have to admit I watch them when they appear on TCM. She really epitomizes that early '30s era for me - an era that has not one vestige of it visible today.

THE KEYHOLE has a clear plot hook, strong characters (you love 'em or hate 'em), non-static cinematography and colorful details that keep you entertained from the first frame. A number of Kay Francis movies had a similar plot structure: wealthy, beautiful, fashionable, sophisticated woman with man problems, usually triangular, but in this case quadrangular. Michael Curtiz keeps this one moving at a fast clip. In this particular plot, Francis's nasty ex-husband (Monroe Owsley) is blackmailing her while her jealous, aging current husband (Walter Kolker) hires a dapper private eye (George Brent) to follow her to make sure she's not seeing another man and of course Brent and Francis fall in love. Allen Jenkins (as Brent's dopey sidekick) and Glenda Farrell (as a crooked golddigger) are on hand as comic counterpoint to the lead players. Francis is charming as usual, exhibiting her trademark "look" - the raven hair swept back to show off her natural widow's peak, the unique eyebrow penciling that curves around her melancholy eyes, and the statuesque grace; and of course her character goes through about 15 costume changes in the 69-minutes of running time (a different drop-dead outfit for every segment of the day). The public inevitably tired of her, which is why she is forgotten today; she was more interested in her salary than in the quality of her roles, as she freely admitted. But when she was in her prime, wow, what a prime. Moving with feline grace in backless satin gowns, she is phantasmal and ravishing, yet still earthy, accessible and even vulnerable. You can't look away. So what if she couldn't pronounce her r's?