La brune de mes rêves

Bob Hope in one of his better comedies of the 1940s, a clever satire of noir mysteries (Raymond Chandler, in particular) which substitutes hard-boiled for soft-boiled without losing the essence of a good crime story. A baby-photographer in San Francisco is found in the neighboring offices of a vacationing private detective by a femme fatale, who unwittingly hires the would-be gumshoe to help find her missing uncle. Edmund Beloin and Jack Rose penned the dandy original screenplay, neatly skirting the spoofy/silly undercurrent which marred many of Hope's starring vehicles of the era. Dorothy Lamour (with the wonderful character name Carlotta Montay) is the supposedly schizophrenic and paranoid client; Peter Lorre is her evil valet; and nobody cracks walnuts like muscle-stooge Lon Chaney. Fresh and witty, with a surprising hint of sex appeal, a solid production, and two terrific star-cameos as a bonus. *** from ****