At first glance, Boris Karloff may seem an odd choice for the screen role of James Lee Wong, a fictional detective who was popular in Collier's Magazine in the early part of the 20th century. An Englishman playing a Chinaman, without much attempt at an accent? However, film fans may remember that earlier in the 1930s, Karloff starred as the insidious Dr. Fu Manchu in THE MASK OF FU MANCHU, so he already had some experience of playing a Chinese character in Hollywood. It comes as little surprise that Karloff's presence is the best thing about this low-budget detective yarn, which employs a routine 'whodunit' style plot, far too many villains and an unsurprising outcome.
None of the other cast members can really hold a light to Karloff, who makes the role of Mr. Wong his own. The mild-mannered, umbrella-carrying private detective wanders around the sets, making jokes about drinking cups of tea and eating oriental duck; other than that, there's no real reason for him to be Chinese. Still, his deductive methods are sound, if understated, and he's as observant and keen as many a Holmes imitator.
Workaholic director William Nigh – who made over a hundred films in thirty years – keeps things plain and simple and there's no fancy camera-work or surprises here; but then you've never expect that from the poverty-row Monogram Pictures studio. Shouty policeman Grant Withers goes for broke with his bluff, angry detective character and he's a real hoot, livening up the film no end with his hilarious stupidity. A shame the cast list of suspects and villains are so underwhelming, these guys are about as menacing as a tea bag. The most interesting plot element lies in the murder weapon, a tiny glass ball filled with poison gas, which explodes when subjected to a certain noise; I'll not say which noise that is, as not to spoil the ending, but it comes as a fun surprise. A shame that elements like this can't stir below-average dialogue and a plot that outstays its welcome, despite only a seventy-minute running time.
None of the other cast members can really hold a light to Karloff, who makes the role of Mr. Wong his own. The mild-mannered, umbrella-carrying private detective wanders around the sets, making jokes about drinking cups of tea and eating oriental duck; other than that, there's no real reason for him to be Chinese. Still, his deductive methods are sound, if understated, and he's as observant and keen as many a Holmes imitator.
Workaholic director William Nigh – who made over a hundred films in thirty years – keeps things plain and simple and there's no fancy camera-work or surprises here; but then you've never expect that from the poverty-row Monogram Pictures studio. Shouty policeman Grant Withers goes for broke with his bluff, angry detective character and he's a real hoot, livening up the film no end with his hilarious stupidity. A shame the cast list of suspects and villains are so underwhelming, these guys are about as menacing as a tea bag. The most interesting plot element lies in the murder weapon, a tiny glass ball filled with poison gas, which explodes when subjected to a certain noise; I'll not say which noise that is, as not to spoil the ending, but it comes as a fun surprise. A shame that elements like this can't stir below-average dialogue and a plot that outstays its welcome, despite only a seventy-minute running time.