Produced by comedian Jack Benny of all people, The Lucky Stiff is one of those attempts at a mystery-comedy that turn out to be neither particularly mysterious nor anything more than sporadically comic.
With one major and a handful of minor exceptions, the cast is uniformly terrible. Brian Donlevy is quite unconvincing as a brash, one-dimensional detective who has a yen for a nightclub singer but does little to save her from the electric chair when she is falsely accused of murder. Claire Trevor has the thankless role of his secretary. Despite clichéd writing and indifferent direction, she plays more competently than most other members of the cast. Worst of all is Robert Armstrong. Donlevy runs him close. Majorie Rambeau comes in a few lengths away, third.
The one shining exception to the general lack of acting acumen is Dorothy Lamour. She is given an entrance, singing a lovely song called "Loneliness". She manages it so superbly as to overcome even LeRoy Prinz's somewhat tatty staging. Thereafter, although she is not always photographed or costumed at her most flattering, and though the script is confused and her motivation is muddled, she shines through by weight of sheer talent and personality. Almost alone and unaided, she makes The Lucky Stiff worth seeing.
Irene Hervey and Virginia Patton should also be excused from the general stigma of bad acting. They do okay in very small roles. The only other player worth a pat on the back is Billy Vine who is occasionally amusing as a harassed barkeeper/mortician.
99 minutes is too long a running time for what is a very modestly-budgeted film. Trimming would certainly help. As we wouldn't dream of cutting any of Miss Lamour's scenes, we can only suggest that the game Miss Trevor suffer further by having portion of her tete-a-tete scenes with Donlevy hit the cutting-room floor.
The Lucky Stiff is a pre-eminent example of star talent surmounting trite material.
With one major and a handful of minor exceptions, the cast is uniformly terrible. Brian Donlevy is quite unconvincing as a brash, one-dimensional detective who has a yen for a nightclub singer but does little to save her from the electric chair when she is falsely accused of murder. Claire Trevor has the thankless role of his secretary. Despite clichéd writing and indifferent direction, she plays more competently than most other members of the cast. Worst of all is Robert Armstrong. Donlevy runs him close. Majorie Rambeau comes in a few lengths away, third.
The one shining exception to the general lack of acting acumen is Dorothy Lamour. She is given an entrance, singing a lovely song called "Loneliness". She manages it so superbly as to overcome even LeRoy Prinz's somewhat tatty staging. Thereafter, although she is not always photographed or costumed at her most flattering, and though the script is confused and her motivation is muddled, she shines through by weight of sheer talent and personality. Almost alone and unaided, she makes The Lucky Stiff worth seeing.
Irene Hervey and Virginia Patton should also be excused from the general stigma of bad acting. They do okay in very small roles. The only other player worth a pat on the back is Billy Vine who is occasionally amusing as a harassed barkeeper/mortician.
99 minutes is too long a running time for what is a very modestly-budgeted film. Trimming would certainly help. As we wouldn't dream of cutting any of Miss Lamour's scenes, we can only suggest that the game Miss Trevor suffer further by having portion of her tete-a-tete scenes with Donlevy hit the cutting-room floor.
The Lucky Stiff is a pre-eminent example of star talent surmounting trite material.