The White Cockatoo

In the 1930s and 40s, Hollywood made approximately 400,038,823 films similar to "The White Cockatoo". Murder mystery/whodunnits were a dime a dozen back then and because of this, I wasn't too interested in watching this film though I did because I usually enjoy Richardo Cortez films. Fortunately, it's better than I expected.

The film is set in a bizarro version of a French hotel. In other words, practically no one (other than the police who show up later) speaks with the least hint of a French accent! This isn't really a major problem...and it's common during this era of film making. Sue (Jean Muir) has come here from the States to meet her step-brother to settle their father's estate and they've never met each other. Jim (Cortez) is another American who just happens to be there and gets pulled into the murders...yes, murders. When the first body appears, the French police tell everyone that they must remain in the hotel until the case is solved. However, when more bodies start appearing you wonder who is going to buy the farm next and who is behind it all.

Overall, despite being talky (very common to all these sort of films), this one is well acted, well made and has a genuinely interesting story. Well worth seeing and among the better whodunnits I have seen.

The White Cockatoo is a well-paced and well-plotted old dark house mystery starring Ricardo Cortez (very good as usual) and pretty Jean Muir, an all-but-forgotten actress who bore a striking resemblance to Gloria Stuart. Set in a remote French hotel (on the Warner's back lot), and utilizing several authentically French actors in minor roles, the story involves an attempted kidnapping, a stolen inheritance, several impersonations and a couple of murders. Though typical of the second feature crime dramas of the era, it's a much-better-than-average version of that genre and makes for an enjoyable 73 minutes of intrigue, with hidden rooms, stolen papers, long-lost siblings and some genuine surprises.

The main attraction here is the strong supporting cast of Warner's stalwarts: Addison Richards, Ruth Donnelly, Minna Gombell (more glamorous than usual), Walter Kingsford, John Eldredge and Gordon Westcott. Oh, and there's also a nice little performance by Poochie, the titular white cockatoo. They all manage to bring some dimension to the characters, a quality which--along with a well-constructed story and better pacing than the average film of this ilk--elevates the picture to what I would call a B+. Highly recommended for fans of the genre.

Wind whistles throughout this picture from start to finish, presumably to bring some much-needed atmosphere and an aura of mystery to a pedestrian WB second feature set in an empty seaside hotel on the French coast; see other reviewers for a plot summary. It gets off to a good start but falters halfway through and becomes a potboiler-style drama, relying shamelessly on contrivance before stumbling to a questionable conclusion.

"The White Cockatoo" features an attractive cast, though, and stars genial, good-natured Ricardo Cortez (he of the sunny disposition), and lovely Jean Muir. On hand also are Ruth Donnelly as a ditzy schoolteacher, as well as Addison Richards, Minna Gombell and Walter Kingsford. The cockatoo in question is hardly noticeable, which makes you wonder why it's used in the picture's title. The main takeaway is the lack of suspense and tension, which detracts greatly from the overall enjoyment of a picture designed to mystify and frighten.

There's a comforting familiarity about small mystery thrillers from the 1930s, such as this one. It has a lot of the usual plot elements: mysterious tavern setting in an isolated part of the country (in this case France), a girl (Muir) waiting there to inherit a fortune, shots in the dark, a body found, the usual red herring suspects (almost everyone in the cast) and the police inspecting the case who are every bit as hopeless at solving a crime in France as they are in American set thrillers of the same nature.

This Warner Brothers affair is directed with efficiency by old pro Alan Crosland, the film further benefiting from some wonderful tavern sets (probably left over from some bigger budgeted productions but every bit as effective here), all beautifully photographed.

And the cast is an engaging one. Ricardo Cortez, second billed, is really the lead in this film, as an American tourist who becomes involved in the mysterious tavern happenings, and largely takes over as amateur detective in trying to crack the case (since it's apparent the police here will never be able to do so). And Cortez is solid in his part, as well as showing some smooth charm, which was his trademark.

I happened to find the book of that title by Mignon Eberhart - a great mystery writer of the 30's and 40's - in a used bookstore. The film pretty much adheres to the story.

American engineer Ricardo Cortez has been working in Russia. Now he's on his way back to the US. First, though, he's stopping at a French chateau-turned-hotel, where the wind always whistles and the manager and his wife have a pet bird to justify the movie's title. There are several other guests, including Jean Muir, who is set to inherit a million dollars, Ruth Donnelly, who is wasted in a nothing role, Gordon Westcott, a grumpy doctor, and several others. Their numbers drop when one of them is killed. In all there will be three murders.

There was a shake-out of actors in Warner's stocl company about this time. While the Irish Mafia (Cagney, O'Brien, McHugh, etc) mostly survived, the carnage among other players was considerable, and resulted in a general loss of quality for everything except the A movies. This one looks like management trying to get some value for their money out of people whose contracts would not be renewed. As a result, while the mystery from a Mignon Eberhart story is intact, the short length of this movie doesn't leave time for the niceties of character exposition. "Efficient" is the nicest thing I can say about this movie, and a good mystery. With Minna Gombell, Walter Kingsford, and Pauline Garon.