This is more interesting than some of the other entries in the series. In 1931 Fox seemed to be hitting its stride with Warner Oland. The plot isn't very different, but the director, Hamilton MacFadden, handles the story with zip. It must have cost more. When Charlie is interrogating a suspect, the others stand around in a semi circle although they have nothing much to contribute except expressions of concern or scowls of disapproval. There aren't many atmosphere people because there's little need for them, but they're managed nicely too. It all adds visual texture.
And, as far as I can remember, this is the only Charlie Chan movie I've ever seen that was actually shot on location. We see the Royal Hawaiian Hotel, Diamond Head, the Punchbowl, all tourist spots. And especially impressive are the first opening scenes of a movie being shot on Waikiki Beach, right about the spot from which I once stole a towel belonging to the Moana. There's something about that old black and white film stock. The white sand practically glows in the sunlight. The breeze blows, the curtain of the dressing-room tent billows, and the sea scintillates with diamonds.
It's also kind of neat to see both Dracula (Bela Lugosi) and his hapless victim Renfield (Dwight Frye) in subordinate roles. There is also an extraordinarily young Robert Young as a gay vacationer in love with one of the female suspects. As Charlie, Warner Oland is jowly and shabby but quick on his mental feet. He practically toe dances across everybody else, including his superiors in the Honolulu Police Department.
The plot? Oh, that. A beautiful young actress is murdered. There are at least half a dozen suspects who seem to be hiding something. No old houses or trap doors or mechanical tricks though. They weren't really needed. When one of those raggedy but devoted artists is shot in the back, it's done in the great outdoors, among the coconut palms. Did I say that good use was made of locations? I think I did. Scenes that could readily have been done back at the Fox Studio -- a contretemps on the lanai, a brief exchange over lunch al fresco -- are photographed in the actual settings instead of a sound stage.
The dialog is what we've come to expect from Charlie Chan. "Harder to keep murder secret than to bounce egg on sidewalk." "Use lie detector? I already have one -- called wife." And "If it walk like duck and talk like duck, then need few more minutes in microwave." (Well, not that one.) It's 1931, folks. The movie looks a little contrived in many ways, but consider its era. And its place in history. These mostly inexpensive little features were cash cows for the studios of the time. Most of these series are almost forgotten now -- Deanna Durbin, Shirley Temple, The Three Mesquiteers, Mister Wong and Mister Moto -- but they kept people working during some hard times.
And, as far as I can remember, this is the only Charlie Chan movie I've ever seen that was actually shot on location. We see the Royal Hawaiian Hotel, Diamond Head, the Punchbowl, all tourist spots. And especially impressive are the first opening scenes of a movie being shot on Waikiki Beach, right about the spot from which I once stole a towel belonging to the Moana. There's something about that old black and white film stock. The white sand practically glows in the sunlight. The breeze blows, the curtain of the dressing-room tent billows, and the sea scintillates with diamonds.
It's also kind of neat to see both Dracula (Bela Lugosi) and his hapless victim Renfield (Dwight Frye) in subordinate roles. There is also an extraordinarily young Robert Young as a gay vacationer in love with one of the female suspects. As Charlie, Warner Oland is jowly and shabby but quick on his mental feet. He practically toe dances across everybody else, including his superiors in the Honolulu Police Department.
The plot? Oh, that. A beautiful young actress is murdered. There are at least half a dozen suspects who seem to be hiding something. No old houses or trap doors or mechanical tricks though. They weren't really needed. When one of those raggedy but devoted artists is shot in the back, it's done in the great outdoors, among the coconut palms. Did I say that good use was made of locations? I think I did. Scenes that could readily have been done back at the Fox Studio -- a contretemps on the lanai, a brief exchange over lunch al fresco -- are photographed in the actual settings instead of a sound stage.
The dialog is what we've come to expect from Charlie Chan. "Harder to keep murder secret than to bounce egg on sidewalk." "Use lie detector? I already have one -- called wife." And "If it walk like duck and talk like duck, then need few more minutes in microwave." (Well, not that one.) It's 1931, folks. The movie looks a little contrived in many ways, but consider its era. And its place in history. These mostly inexpensive little features were cash cows for the studios of the time. Most of these series are almost forgotten now -- Deanna Durbin, Shirley Temple, The Three Mesquiteers, Mister Wong and Mister Moto -- but they kept people working during some hard times.