The Perfect Clue

"The Perfect Clue" is a film that is enjoyable...but you need to turn off your brain and just enjoy it. Otherwise, you might think of how ridiculous and improbable the plot is...and that would ruin it.

Mona (Dorothy Libaire) is a spoiled rich girl. When her father decides to remarry, instead of being happy for him, she stomps off in a snit...a snit that takes her on a cross-country adventure. Along the way, she meets up with David (David Manners) and thinks he's a nice guy...until he tries to rob her! Now here's where it gets odd. Instead of robbing her, they end up going on adventures together! It all comes to a halt when cops think David murdered someone...and with his prison record, they're quick to assume the worst. What's next? See and find out for yourself.

The fact that Mona and David fall in love is amazingly far-fetched...but enjoyable. In fact, I'd say that about the entire film!

When William P. Carleton announces he is going to get remarried, daughter Dorothy Libaire announces she will not stay in the same house if he does. Daddy says fine, so she elopes with Skeets Gallagher...until somewhere north of Albany, she realizes what a bad idea it is, jumps the train, busts her ankle and winds up hiring David Manners to tour in his jalopy until her sprain mends.

Manners admits frankly he's just out of prison for embezzlement, but he was framed. He knows who stole the money, but the guy has a wife and child, so... anyway, they are in a town where Manners needs to see a lawyer. When he goes to his office, the man dies in his arms. With his record, they will pin it on him.

It's an attempt to merge Screwball with a how-catch-em mystery, and much as I want it to work, it doesn't. The script never because wacky enough, Miss Libaire's character remains a spoiled brat too long and there aren't enough jokes, Gallagher's drunken character aside. There's no chemistry between the actors, no sparkle.

A lot of this can be put down to the fact that this is a Larry Darmour production, distributed through states rights. He had no money for the production, none for stars, less for a director, and less than nothing for retakes. David Manners in a freefalling career, was the most he could manage, and Manners does all right, but it just isn't enough.

It's a pity, because it could work. Enough people thought it did work that by the end of the following year, Darmour was distributing through Columbia. That would give his productions a little breathing room. It's too bad he didn't produce this a year later. Even as it is, it's not bad. It simply lacks the sparkle needed for screwball.