Rogues Gallery

This is one of those silly 1940's mysteries with an aggressive female reporter and her half-wit cameraman, trying to get a really big "scoop." They go to the laboratory of a scientist who has invented a device for listening in on people, no matter where they are. There are a couple murders and bodies disappearing. The huffy police detective who is constantly being called to investigate things that change before he arrives. He grunts and snarls. He won't admit it, but he really likes Patsy, the reporter. There are many pratfalls, one, where the butler barely touches the cameraman and he goes flying through the living room, landing in an easy chair. It adds slapstick, which, in this case, is a distraction. The invention is taken for granted and used in the solution of the crime. It implies that there are such devices. To this day, we have nothing like this. The byplay between the two principles is pretty funny. There are some good character actors, doing slow burns, sneaking up on people, sounding very sombre. I'm a sucker for these old movies and did get a kick out of this one.

Back in the 1930s and 40s, double-features were the norm. Audience members could expect to see two complete films....plus possibly a cartoon and a short! The premium film, the one that drew audiences was the so-called 'A-film'. The B-movie, in contrast, was shorter, more quickly made and were more likely to be forgettable. Now I am NOT saying B-movies were all bad....there were many great Bs and many more that were very good entertainment. However, the term 'B-movie' has commonly come to mean bad film...mostly because quite a few of these cheap movies were pretty bad...particularly the ones made by tiny little studios. These tiny studios were so small and tight with budgets that they didn't even own their own studio space...most rented space at the major studios at night when everyone else was at home. One of the most consistently craptastic of these Poverty Row studios was PRC, a studio that managed to make films in the most artless and dull manner possible in too many cases. Is "Rogues Gallery" yet another rotten PRC outing? I sure assumed so when I saw the logo when the movie started!

Reporter Patsy Reynolds and photographer Eddie Porter (Robin Raymond and Frank Jenks) are supposed to meet with an inventor (H.B. Warner)...but when they arrive there's been an attack on the professor and someone has broken into the factory. You can only assume that like too many Bs, the pair will end up investigating the break-in and they'll likely solve it before the cops! And, like many Bs, there's a disappearing and re-appearing corpse!!

The biggest problem about this film is Robin Raymond. I am not sure if she was directed to be so loud and brash...but her character sure was loud and brash! I am pretty sure audiences found her rather off-putting. Additionally, making the police so stupid sure didn't help the story! Yes, as is too often the case with B-mysteries, the police are pretty useless. And, finally, the dialog was often pretty lousy. As a result of these factors, the film is tough going at times and is, at best, a time-passer with a difficult to like leading character.

Typical wacky 40s crime-mystery-comedy involving the attempted theft of an invention of a super eavesdropping device. There's a couple of murders along the way as the flick evolves into a whodunit. Robin Raymond stars as the wise-cracking newspaper reporter assigned to get the story on the invention. She's good if somewhat abrasive in the role with good delivery of some funny comebacks. Frank Jenks is her photographer in tow and is distractingly stupid. Ray Walker is the obligatory reporter from the competitive paper, providing an occasional sparring partner for Raymond, and happens to be the nephew of the head of the institution of where the invention occurred. The movie title is baffling because there is no Rogue's Gallery because there are no obvious suspects. Nevertheless, the movie is fun and fast paced. It's an okay time waster but don't make an effort to seek it out.

A feisty girl reporter and her photographer buddy cover murder involving a professor, his big money sponsors, and an amazing invention, all combined in light-hearted fashion of the day (1944).

I can see late shifts at WWII defense plants getting a kick out of this clichéd fare. Combine fast- talking reporters with a secret invention, disappearing corpses, and an array of murder suspects, and you've got a sure-fire B-movie. Jenks may get top billing but it's Raymond's movie. Her mouth speaks in machine gun bursts, while she charges forth like a tank on steroids. All in all, she's no cuddle bunny, but she is going to get the story no matter what. Surprisingly, there's no hint of romance anywhere, a definite departure from the norm. That's probably because the younger leading men are in uniform.Too bad that the mystery part doesn't really gel since the focus is on characters rather than the murky plot. Note HB Warner as the skeletal professor. His silent film credits are impressive as heck. His presence here must be for paycheck only. Anyhow, it's a wartime programmer, nothing special but competently done.

A pair of hotshot reporters (Jenks and Raymond) are sent to uncover the story of a daring new sound amplification invention when they inadvertently become embroiled in the murders and apparent attempted murders of the invention's consortium members, and turn super sleuths to solve the crimes.

Typical light comedy cum mystery B-movie co-stars H.B. Warner as the invention's mild-mannered creator, Jenks as the shrewd photographer and raven-maned Raymond as the bolshy, fast-talking intrepid newswoman willing to resort to extortion to uncover the truth. Raymond's feisty, self-assured prima donna is perhaps superior to the film's weak plot and drab dialogue, though her chirpy, nasal accent and frequent wise-cracking put-downs could be perceived as somewhat irritating if you're not in the right mood to receive. Edward Keane has a supporting role as the duo's editor, a role suited to his no-nonsense, authoritative demeanour.

A little slapstick, a few corny one-liners, synchronised catchphrases ("here we go again") and the usual shady characters fill out a compact 57 minute plot, but apart from Warner's relaxed professionalism (in a rather minor supporting role) complemented by Raymond's energy, there's not a whole lot to recommend.