Alan Baxter is a newsreel photographer, with an eye for a good set of legs and a sideline in snappy patter. Coming back from a shoot of local lovelies on the streets of New York, a messenger from another newsreel company almost takes his cartridge by accident; then Richard Kollmar comes to his company's office, where Virginia Gilmore is interviewing him for an article on newsreel photographers while Baxter is trying to date her up. Kollmar explains that he's in the footage Baxter shot, and if his wife sees him in a newsreel with a young woman, well, you know. So he gets the footage.
Loring Smith, Baxter's boss, takes a look at the negative. Kollmar isn't a nervous husband. He's a Nazi bigwig thought dead, and wanted in as many countries as a piano has keys. Suddenly Baxter isn't a character in a Runyonesque 1930s comedy-thriller, he's in over his head in a film-noir world, where newsreel executives get shoved out of windows, and failed actors turned hood slap their girlfriends and leave scars, where gun-battles take place on the streets of Manhattan, full of newsies and comedy drunks and cars passing by, not knowing what is going on, because they're too busy to turn their heads and look at it. Baxter's not wise-cracking any more. He's too busy being handcuffed in a coal bin, wondering when he's going to be shot.
It's a startling bit of film-making from Eagle-Lion, climbing its way out of its PRC roots. Director Jack Donohoe had started out as a dancer, had acted in a few movies, did some choreography and stage directing, and would wind up directing some popular and trivial movies. He would end his career directing hundreds of episodes of Lucille Ball sitcoms. Here, in his first movie, he balances things just right.
