Secrets of the French Police

This film starts out with a shot of a magazine article about the modern methods adopted by the Paris police department. Then it switches to a secret burial ceremony of a Paris policeman implying that it would be a breach of national security if his death were made public. Next is Frank Morgan as a Paris police detective about to track the killer based on cigarette ash found near the corpse which he finds to be from a brand sold only at a certain bar in Paris. Then he goes to the bar disguised as a drunk to cleverly get the proprietress to tell him who buys that brand of cigarette. It seems to be a mysterious monocled gent who then disappears from the movie.

Interesting, but all this has almost nothing to do with the rest of the movie, which is concerned with the legend of Anastasia, the Russian princess killed during the Revolution whose body was never recovered, leading to several false claimants pretending to be her and collect an inheritance. This story was also the basis of a1997 animated cartoon and a 1956 film starring Ingrid Bergman as the claimant and Yul Brynner as the con artist trying to fob her off.

Here the claimant is played by Gwyli Andre, a Danish actress reminiscent of Greta Garbo and Marlene Dietrich, whose lack of critical success led to a brief career in Hollywood. I thought she was pretty good, actually.

Her mentor is one General Moloff, a White Russian emigre played by Gregory Ratoff, one of the most multi-faceted villains in movie history, kidnapper, murderer, hypnotist, and surprisingly wealthy for an escapee from the revolution. On top of all this, in the end he turns out to be a sadistic mad scientist foreshadowing some of the grade-Z movies Bela Lugosi made toward the end of his career. You will be amazed, if not convinced, by the high-tech methods by which he causes a car crash by remote control.

Everyone in France speaks English, of course, occasionally remembering to attempt a French accent. English actor John Warburton has some amusing moments as another multi-tasker, both burglar and pickpocket. In fact, all the actors do a good job.

At least the film keeps moving right along and won't bore you. OK time killer if you're quarantined. Just don't expect anything to think about afterwards. Even better if you're into camp.

A smorgasbord of in-jokes, tres moderne crime-fighting techniques, and every old-dark-house cliche (but of course, it was made in 1932, so it may have been inventing some of them), the film features Frank Morgan (later to be the Wizard of Oz) as a clever, chain-smoking inspecteur from the Surete who goes up against a wily Russian crook. Murders, staged accidents, bodies dragged from the Seine and an amazingly successful attempt to foil the censor while showing female nudity are all parts of this tale. A suave French thief (with an impeccable Oxford accent)is employed by the Surete to help foil the plot, and an army of Chinese house-servants and a broken-glass wall topping are just some of the dazzling obstacles to be overcome. The "statue" created by the villain will astonish you, as will the gorgeous clothes worn by the beautiful young heroine who could be Anastasia, long-lost daughter of the Romanoffs. This is high camp film-making but done in an earnest style. Really fun.

Secrets of the French Police is a horror crime hybrid that muddles early and never really recovers. The story revolves around a plot by an ex patriot Russian (Gregory Ratoff) trying to pull off an Anastasia scam to get his hands on Romanoff cash. Joining forces with a thief, French police set a trap to expose fraud.

As inspector St. Cyr, Frank Morgan chains smokes and forgoes an accent while Ratoff sounds like he is fresh out of the Lugosi school. John Warburton in the key role of the second story man lacks charm and comes across smug in the process negating the decent work done by Gwili Andre as his girl and the phony Anastasia.

Police has some jarringly violent and ghoulish moments along with a cynical grittiness in which the law employs illegal means to solve its case but director Ed Sutherland's anemic direction wavers between genres and ultimately fails at both.

This film tries to cross Secrets of the Wax Museum with one of Fritz Lang's Dr. Mabuse series, and ultimately fails. Some of the editing and set shots are remarkable, but the beginning of the film, about Danton's widow, is a waste of time, and at the end, the pacing of the film just falls apart. The villain who turns young, beautiful women into statues is certainly a delicious and twisted plot turn, but too little is made of it. Nonetheless, even if the reach far exceeds the grasp, this is worth watching if you can find it.

Gwili Andre looked like a cross between Joan Crawford and Myrna Loy with hints of Garbo and Dietrich, but with none of their magnetism or acting ability. All four of those superstars evolved over several years before they achieved the look and manner by which we know them today. Andre, one of the more notable Hollywood career failures of the early talkie era, was just a hastily packaged commodity meant to resemble others, but with no substance. Perhaps if she had been given more chances she might have developed into a competent performer, but instead she faded out almost as quickly as she came in, dying in obscurity in 1959.

Andre's presence is the major object of interest in this routine crime drama. Otherwise, there is Gregory Ratoff in one of his rare incarnations as a cold-blooded villain—specifically, a dastardly Russian émigré who kidnaps flower girl Andre off the streets of Paris and hypnotizes her into believing she is the missing Grand Duchess Anastasia in order to convince exiled Russian nobility that she is the real deal and walk off with the loot from her inheritance as the only surviving member of the Tsar's immediate family. Ratoff has a deeply menacing, inhuman quality that reminds one of Bela Lugosi in "Dracula" or "White Zombie," particularly in conjunction with his domination of entranced and attractive young females.

The versatile Frank Morgan plays one of the police of the title and chain smokes his way through the film.

Near the end there is a well-staged auto crash which reminds us how far automobile construction has come since the days of steel chassis and brittle glass windows.