The French Key

Let's start by saying what this film is not: it's not film noir, and it's not a suspense movie. The emphasis here is on how Johnny Fletcher, well played by Albert Dekker, figures out the mystery. There's a lot of humor and clever lines. Frank Gruber, who wrote the script, was also the author of the original novel, published in 1940. It sold well and he went on to write a series of similar novels featuring Johnny Fletcher and Sam Cragg. Mike Mazurki is good here as Cragg, and gives a light-hearted performance in keeping with the spirit of the film. The other standout performance is by Evelyn Ankers. Her scenes with Dekker are the best part of the movie. Gruber also wrote scripts for a couple of the Basil Rathbone-Nigel Bruce Sherlock Holmes movies. He was a pro. This movie is worth watching.

This film had too many flaws to be a recommended mystery. First, the acting of the main character's sidekick was similar to that of Anthony Quinn, but without a brain. The main character himself was relatively unappealing to either men or women in the audience. He was not comedic enough to be funny, and not serious enough to be taken seriously. The writing was uneven, and at times, shabby. There is a good chance you will fall asleep during this misfire.

Mike Mazurki (Sam) recounts the story that starts off with a French key. The key had been put into the keyhole of his and room-mate Albert Dekker's (Johnny) room by the landlord and then deliberately broken off in the keyhole so that they could not return due to unpaid rent. They manage to get back into the room only to find a dead body and a gold coin. So begins the mystery.

The cast play the film as a comedy and there is the occasional humorous moment but there are also plenty of dumb, silly segments that try to pass as humour. Detective Joe DeRita (Fox) is a stereotypically stupid investigator who looks like the fat one out of Abbott and Costello. It's actually a pretty poor show when he ends up being the best thing about the film. The story is just not very interesting and Albert Dekker doesn't cut it in the leading role.

Johnny Fletcher and Sam Cragg have skipped on their board bill and try to sneak into their room to get their trunks, when they find a corpse on their bed clutching an old Spanish coin. Fletcher being a pseudo-detective learns the nature of the coin from a numismatist named Vedder, but learns that he is mixed up some way with the murder. Apparently the murdered man was mixed up with a gold smuggling outfit where the coins were actually stolen gold forged into the rare coins. However Fletcher has to find out the murderer and how & where the stolen gold is located. This is a very enjoyable B mystery aided especially but the witty dialogue by Frank Gruber, who also wrote the novel the story is based on. Its a shame however that Republic didn't decide to continue the series. Dekker and Mazurki are obviously enjoying themselves in the picture and Dekker does add a somewhat sophisticated touch to what could have been an ordinary urbane role. The movie does move nicely but the end Dekker's character does seem to change to a more hardboiled sleuth than the fly by the seat of his pants character he was. A good B-repertoire cast (Ankers, Foulger especially) make this an enjoyable hour plus. Rating, 8.

I thought a French key was some vaguely salacious shindig, but a Google search turned up an island off Guatemala with sloths and jaguars. In this movie, it an insert into a door that locks low-rent private detective Albert Dekker out of his cheap hotel room.

The story continues with a murder and an old $5 gold piece in mint condition. It's written by and based on Frank Gruber's Johnny Fletcher mysteries, and it's a pretty good mystery, with an interesting cast, including Mike Mazurki, Evelyn Ankers, Byron Foulger and Joe Derita. Produced by an independent and released by Republic, it's an engaging bit of nonsense, redeemed by its tight structure.

Gruber, who once codified the western into seven basic plots, wrote hundreds of stories before he began to get accepted by the pulps. By the time of his death in 1969 at age 65, he had sold more than 400.