I Killed That Man

This is the typical mystery thriller and comedy flick that spread during the thirties and forties. Only for those who crave for this kind of stuff. I don't belong to those audiences. I don't like comedies, especially the thirties and forties ones. And from a director such as Phil Rosen, a prolific grade Z films maker, you can understand that nothing really excits me. But I nevertheless tried this one, this short picture, and I must admit that it is agreeable, inventive, fresh to watch. To summarize, it is far better than many more movies of this kind for this period. So, if you are lucky enough to get it, try it.

Newspaper reporter Joan Woodbury sails up to her editor's desk. The editor is on the phone. "Get me the state prison," he says. Woodbury doesn't miss a beat: "Making a reservation so soon?" This is the kind of snappy dialog that makes this an enjoyable lightweight film.

Plenty of movies from this era featured the crime-solving reporter. Many others starred the assistant district attorney tracking down a murderer. I Killed That Man has both—Woodbury as the reporter, and Ricardo Cortez as her boyfriend who also happens to be the assistant D.A. working on the case.

Other familiar elements also abound: rival reporters envious of Woodbury's connections, the poison dart as murder weapon. George Breakston is entertaining as the D.A. office's receptionist and switchboard operator—besides reading crime non-fiction and proposing inspired solutions to this particular mystery, he offers knowing deductions based on Woodbury's appearance as she sits in his waiting area. (How did he know she got dressed in a hurry that morning? "You got your left stocking on inside out.")

There's only one thing I really want to know after watching this picture: What card catalog numbering system did they use at their local library?

I Killed That Man is a fairly typical Poverty Row mystery film. It tells the tale of a man on his way to execution on Death Row who is suddenly killed by a poison dart by an unknown assailant while in a crowded room. The remaining film details the investigation into who is responsible.

To be honest there's nothing new here. It delivers what anyone familiar with Poverty Row productions will have come to expect, i.e. not too many thrills, not too many sets and not too many surprises. The film does pick up pace towards the end but it takes it's time getting there unfortunately. I've seen another obscure film from director Phil Rosen – Man With Two Lives – and that one was quite a bit more entertaining in my opinion. Having said that I have seen a lot worse than I Killed That Man, it's not exactly a bad watch for a rainy weekend morning.

Assistant District Attorney Ricardo Cortez is attending the execution of Ralf Haralde for murder. He announces the real murderer promised to get him out and didn't, so he is going to reveal his name. He then drops dead. It turns out he has been poisoned with a needle. Cortez starts investigating the many suspicious characters with the aid of newspaperwoman Joan Woodbury.

It's the first King Brothers production for Monogram and they haven't started to hit their stride yet, so it's not a particularly prepossessing movie. Nonetheless, director Phil Rosen has directed for speed, and the cast, which includes George Pembroke, Iris Adrian, and Harry Holman are competent in their melodramatically but decently written roles.

This is a mystery with elements of comedy. It also has (minor) noir elements and a romantic touch.

Ricardo Cortez is excellent in the lead. We begin as a man is about to be put to death in prison. The press and the law are there, as well as a few others who like to observe executions.

Things do not go as planned. And Cortez tries to solve the mystery right on the spot. That doesn't work. His girlfriend, reporter Joan Woodbury, gets involved. Iris Adrian is, as always, effective as a moll.

This sort of thing continued to be standard fare at Warner Brothers till the mid-forties. Interestingly, Monogram does it even better here. The list of players boasts only Cortez as a box-office name. But it's cast in a clever and entertaining manner and neatly directed by Phil Rosen.