Wilbur Mack

This is the very last entry in the long-running Bowery Boys saga. This time the gang gets involved with English diamond smugglers after they are hired to safely escort a valuable poodle on a Transatlantic voyage. ~ Sandra Brennan, All Movie Guide

Though scheduled for production as early as 1950, the Bowery Boys' Loose in London didn't go before the cameras until 1953. In this outing, Sach (Huntz Hall) is told that he's a relative of Sir Percy, the Earl of Walsingham (Walter Kingsford). In short order, Sach, his pals Slip (Leo Gorcey), Chuck (David Condon) and Butch (Bennie Bartlett), and sweet-shop proprietor Louie (Bernard Gorcey) head to the Earl's estate in London. Immediately ingratiating themselves with the ailing nobleman, the boys give the old fellow a new lease on life--which doesn't sit well with the rest of the Earl's relatives, who are greedily awaiting his demise so that they may claim his inheritance. In desperation, the other relatives plan to kill the Earl, but they're foiled by Slip, Sach and company. This leaves Sach the sole heir to the Earl's fortune--at least that's what he thinks! Written by "Three Stooges" alumni, Elwood Ullman and Edward Bernds (who also directed), Loose in London is an enjoyable hour's worth of nonsense. ~ Hal Erickson, All Movie Guide

Rhubarb is an amusing, if not entirely faithful, adaptation of the H. Allen Smith novel of the same name. When Thaddeus J. Banner (Gene Lockhart), multimillionaire owner of the Brooklyn baseball team, passes away, he wills the team -- and his $30 million estate -- to his pugnacious pet cat Rhubarb. Banner's press agent Eric Yeagar (Ray Milland) finds this hilarious, until he discovers that he's been appointed Rhubarb's guardian and business manager. One of the crosses Yeagar has to bear is the fact that his sweetheart Polly Sickles (Jan Sterling), the daughter of Brooklyn team manager Len Sickles (William Frawley), is deathly allergic to cats. Still, Yeagar must keep Rhubarb with him at all times, especially when the cat turns out to be a good-luck charm for the perennially basement-dwelling Brooklyn ballplayers. Thanks to Rhubarb's inspiration, the team makes it to the Pennant Race, whereupon the plot really thickens. The first two-thirds of Rhubarb adheres to the original Smith novel, culminating with a zany sanity hearing brought about by Banner's disgruntled relatives to prove that the cat is mentally unfit to control the old man's money. But the final reels abandon the novel in favor of a Guys and Dolls-inspired plot strand, wherein crooked gamblers kidnap the cat to prevent a Brooklyn pennant win. As a result, H. Allen Smith's satiric barbs are somewhat blunted in the final scenes -- which, however, is not to suggest that the film is any less funny than before. One of the better baseball comedies of the era, Rhubarb maintains its merriment right to the end, which is capped by a cameo appearance by a well-known actor who happened to be married to leading lady Jan Sterling. ~ Hal Erickson, All Movie Guide

"Suggested" by James Oliver Curwood's novel The Gold Hunters, this low-budget Monogram release was the first film in a series of seven "Northwest" adventures to team former Universal cowboy Kirby Grant and a beautiful white malamute named Chinook. Grant played Bob McDonald, a mountie shot in the leg during a confrontation with a gang of bank robbers. One of the robbers, Jim Blaine (Bill Edwards), was forced into participating by his prospector father Matt (Guy Beach) and is now being held hostage by the gang. With his dying breath, Matt besieges Bob to rescue his son but the injured mountie instead sends his faithful dog, Chinook. The clever pooch manages to free Jim and Bob is nursed back to health by Marie LaRue (Suzanne Dalbert), the daughter of the saloon owner (Dan Seymour). Admitting to holding the loot from the bank heist, Jim then explains that the money was actually owed his father and that banker Dawson (William Forrest) is after the Blaine gold mine. With Chinook's help, Bob, Jim and the Larues set a trap for the villain,, who is consequently caught red-handed attempting to free his henchmen from the local jail. Although famed pulp-writer Curwood's name appears prominently in the credits, B-movie veteran Oliver Drake later admitted that it was he, not Curwood, who conjured up the story. No different from a host of low-budget Westerns despite its potentially colorful locale, Trail of the Yukon was directed by the prolific William Beaudine under the pseudonym of "William X. Crowley." ~ Hans J. Wollstein, All Movie Guide

An unusually disturbing noir from a director better known for more mainstream fare like High Noon and From Here to Eternity, Act of Violence focuses on a WWII veteran haunted by his past. A film that was close to the director's heart, he said that it represented "the first time that I felt confident that I knew what I was doing and why I was doing it." Van Heflin stars as Frank Enley, a contractor living a peaceful life in a small California town, when Joe Parkson, a man who served in the army with him, arrives in the area, intent on killing him. He follows Frank to a lake where he's fishing but is unable to kill him. When a lakeside bartender tells Frank that a man with a limp is looking for him, Frank is frightened, realizing why he has come. He tells his wife, Edith (Janet Leigh), that Joe is a man who spent time with in a Nazi POW camp, who is now mentally ill, and that he intends to avoid him. When Frank goes to Los Angeles for a business convention, Joe arrives at his house and tells his wife that her husband is responsible for his injury and for the deaths of a number of men. Fearing for her husband's life, Edith heads for L.A. with Joe not far behind. ~ Michael Costello, All Movie Guide

Absent from films since 1938 (except as producer of a brace of RKO Radio features), silent-screen comedy favorite Harold Lloyd returned before the cameras in The Sin of Harold Diddlebock. The project began as a labor of love between Lloyd and the brilliant, innovative producer/writer/director Preston Sturges. Though these two comedy geniuses eventually had a stylistic falling out, resulting in an uneven, spasmodically dreary film, on the whole Harold Diddlebock is well worth having. Sturges cleverly opens the picture with the final reel of Lloyd's silent classic The Freshman(1925), in which the drudge of the college football team makes good and scores the winning touchdown. The story proper begins in the locker room, where football hero Harold Diddlebock (Lloyd, looking three decades younger than his 53 years) is impulsively offered a job by banker J.E. Wagglebury (Raymond Walburn). Taking his place at his new desk and festooning his walls with inspirational homilies, Harold starts to work, supremely confident that he's poised on the brink of bigger things. Twenty-three years pass: In 1946, a weary, stoop-shouldered Harold is still at the same desk at the same job, his dreams of success but a dim memory. Summarily fired by the pompous Wagglebury ("You have not only ceased to go forward, you have gone backward"), Harold collects his final paycheck, cleans out his desk, and bids farewell to office girl Miss Otis (Frances Ramsden), all of whose older sisters had previously been Harold's sweethearts. Wandering aimlessly on the street with his severance pay in hand, Harold is spotted by a dessicated street hustler named Wormy (Jimmy Conlin), who inveigles the newly fired clerk to join him at a nearby bar. Informed that Harold has never taken a drink in his life, the bartender (Edgar Kennedy) lights up and declares, "Sir, you rouse the artist in me!" With great ceremonial flourish, the bartender concocts a potent beverage called the Diddlebock. Harold takes one sip of the brew, lets out a yell, and immediately loses all the inhibitions that have kept him from advancing himself in the past two decades. With Wormy in tow, Harold goes on a wild spending and carousing spree, totally losing track of an entire day-and-a-half.

At the end of his revelry, the hung-over Harold is awakened by his sister (Margaret Hamilton), who informs him that he's bought a garish new wardrobe, a ten-gallon hat, and goodness knows what else. He soon finds out what else when he ventures into the street and is informed that he's bought a horse-drawn cab (with driver!) -- and a circus, complete with hungry lions. Quickly formulating a plan to get rid of the circus at a substantial profit, Harold decides to elicit bids from the town's various bankers, bringing Jackie the Lion along with him so that the bank guards won't stop him at the door. All of this leads to a wild recreation of Lloyd's skyscraper-teetering gags from his silent days, a noisy episode at the local jail, and a romantic tête-à-tête with Miss Otis, who reveals at the very end how Harold really spent his "missing" Wednesday! Though it tested well upon its first release, Sin of Harold Diddlebock was abruptly withdrawn from circulation by its co-producer Howard R. Hughes, who spent four years reediting and sometimes reshooting the film before finally releasing it through RKO as Mad Wednesday. Both this version and the original Sin of Harold Diddlebock still exist; while the earlier version is undeniably richer in comic invention and characterization, the shortened Mad Wednesday works better in front of an audience. Neither version completely fulfills the potential of its premise, however. Though not to be missed, this final Harold Lloyd vehicle pales in comparison with his vintage silent comedies. ~ Hal Erickson, All Movie Guide

A semi-sequel to Here Comes Mr. Jordan, Columbia's Down to Earth is a camp- and kitsch-lover's delight. More beautiful than ever, Rita Hayworth stars as Terpsichore, the Goddess of Dance. From her perch Up Above, Terpsichore discovers that Broadway producer Danny Miller (Larry Parks) intends to put together a musical satire, lampooning herself and her fellow Greek Gods. Eliciting the aid of Heavenly emissary Mr. Jordan (Roland Culver, taking over from the earlier film's Claude Rains), Terpsichore descends to Earth in human form, landing a role in Miller's play. Through her bewitching influence, Miller agrees to abandon his plans for a satire, transforming his production into a portentiously serious "work of art"-which lays a large and noxious egg with the opening-night crowd. Somehow, our ethereal heroine manages to set things right, but there's still one nagging problem: Will she, a goddess, ever be permitted to fall in love with a mere mortal like Miller? Repeating their Here Comes Mr. Jordan roles, James Gleason and Edward Everett Horton appear respectively as the eternally flustered Max Corkle (formerly a fight promoter, now a theatrical agent) and the pompous, rule-bound Heavenly messenger #7013. Silly but immensely entertaining, Down to Earth was remade as the sillier but decidedly less entertaining Xanadu in 1980. ~ Hal Erickson, All Movie Guide

In this crime drama, a fading movie star plays a similar character in her farewell film, a B crime-drama about a lonely-hearts club that masks a racketeering operation. ~ Sandra Brennan, All Movie Guide

Dick Tracy, Detective (originally just Dick Tracy) was the first of four RKO Radio B-pictures based on Chester Gould's classic comic strip. Though Ralph Byrd is most closely associated with the role of Tracy, the title character is played herein by Morgan Conway (Byrd would be seen as Tracy in the last two series entries). The jut-jawed detective takes on a vicious criminal named Splitface (Mike Mazurki), who upon escaping from jail vows to murder the jurors who found him guilty and their alternates. He manages to knock off three before the police force figures out what's happening. Galvanized into action, Dick Tracy and his partner Pat Patton (Lyle Latell) track Splitface to a deserted riverboat (a leftover set from the 1945 RKO feature Man Alive) where the villain is holding Tracy's girlfriend Tess Truehart (Anne Jeffreys) and adopted son Junior (Mickey Kuhn) captive. When asked about Dick Tracy Detective in 1990, Anne Jeffreys flatly denied she'd ever played Tess Trueheart until she caught up with the film on videotape. She'd completely forgotten the whole experience. ~ Hal Erickson, All Movie Guide

Judging by such films as Shadows of Suspicion, it's too bad that leading man Peter Cookson eventually elected to leave the movies in favor of the Broadway stage. Cookson is cast as Jimmy, an enterprising private detective who hits upon a most unusual method of solving a jewel robbery. With the help of his partner Northrup (Tim Ryan), Jimmy frames himself as the primary suspect, so that he can operate undetected to expose the genuine thief. Needless to say, the plan backfires by mid-film. But with pretty Marjorie Weaver as the unwitting courier of the stolen jewels, it's a safe bet that the truth will out before the film's 68 minutes have expended themselves. ~ Hal Erickson, All Movie Guide

In this musical, a lovely and ambitious young woman masquerades as the daughter of a formerly beloved stage actress to help launch her Broadway career. She chooses one entertainment columnist in particular. But the starlet's carefully-made plans begin to unravel when a rival columnist learns of her ruse and tries to expose her. Songs include: "Let's March Together" (Saul Chaplin), "I Bumped My Head on a Star" (Cindy Walker), "Honk, Honk" (Roy Jacobs, Gene De Paul), "Timber Timber" (Don Reid, Henry Tobias), "Moon on My Pillow" (Charles, Henry, Elliot Tobias). ~ Sandra Brennan, All Movie Guide

Mabel Paige, one of Hollywood's most beloved character actresses, was given her one-and-only starring role in this Republic Pictures tearjerker. Paige plays a wealthy old lady embittered by the long-ago disappearance of her son. She lives alone in a downtown hotel, with only the occasional company of her faithful chauffeur (Harry Shannon). When a group of college boys move into the hotel, Mabel befriends the most troublesome of the bunch (John Craven) because she believes he's her grandson. Her harsh attitude toward the world softened by Craven's presence, Paige dies happy, still under the impression that the boy is her own flesh and blood. Based on a story by Ben Ames Williams, it was remade in 1957 as Johnny Trouble, starring Ethel Barrymore in her final screen role. ~ Hal Erickson, All Movie Guide