Charlie Chan made his film debut in a (now-lost) Pathe serial, HOUSE WITHOUT A KEY, in 1926. Fox soon acquired the property, and in 1931 starred Warner Oland as the Hawaiian-based Chinese sleuth. Eight years and 16 films later, Oland died and was replaced by Sidney Toler, who carried on for another 11 films until Fox dropped the series in 1942. Toler took his ol bad self and the series over to Monogram in 1944, and starred in 11 more Chans before he died in 1947. Roland Winters assumed the role for the last half dozen films, and the series ended in 1949 after 18 years and 44 films.
The first six Monogram releases have just been dropped on the market in a DVD set called THE CHARLIE CHAN CHANTHOLOGY, and are also available separately.
The Chan films have lately come under scrutiny for their racism; obviously, they are a product of their times, and I dont find them particularly offensive, but then, Ive seen a lot worse in old movies. And Im not Chinese, either. On the other hand, they dont seem to come under scrutiny for what really ails them: most of them are as dull as the finish on a 49 John Deere tractor. Once a fixture on the Late, Late Show, the Chan films are guaranteed to infect even the most rampant insomniacs with narcolepsy.
CHARLIE CHAN IN THE SECRET SERVICE (1944, directed by Phil Rosen of RETURN OF THE APE MAN fame, if you can call it fame), the first of the Monogram Chans, has exactly one good moment, and its the opening scene of the picture: a supply ship is blown out of the water. Its obviously a cheap Monogram model in a tub of water, though, but before our minds can finish registering the dismay of Uh-oh, typical Monogram cheesy special effects, the camera pulls back and we see that its REALLY a cheap model in a tub of water, part of a scientists experiment. Before our minds can finish registering, Hey, that was funny, maybe this movies gonna be pretty good, though, the film proper begins, and it doesnt take long for THAT hope to be dashed.
The scientist has soon dropped dead, and it looks like natural causes, except that his plans for a new torpedo have vanished. The house is sealed off, the suspects are quarantined, and honorable Chan, Charlie, is brought in to shuffle around aimlessly for an hour until the film ends. Incidentally, the problem with these Chan films can be seen early in the picture: once Charlie is given his assignment and says goodbye to his son and daughter, any other director wouldve faded to Charlies arrival at the house. Well, no, not when weve got 65 minutes to fill, buster. Instead, we see Mr. Chan leave his office, go to the elevator, walk across the lobby, shuffle down the stairs, cross the sidewalk, say something to the cab driver, open the cab door, enter the cab, shut the cab door, drive away in the cab, arrive at the house, get out of the cab, nod to the gatekeeper, walk up the driveway, and arrive at the house, all to swelling dramatic music. The transition takes no less than one minute and 34 seconds (I timed it; believe you me, youll be doing a lot of clock-watching during this picture).
Noting the thinness of the plot and the need for additional padding, the screenwriter gave us not one, not two, but three comedy relief characters. Marianne Quon, who is adorable but makes her only appearance in the series, is Charlies daughter Iris, while Benson Fong is son Tommy (taking over the role of pesky would-be-helpful doofus son from Victor Sen Yung). Most notable of all is Mantan Moreland, debuting in the series as chauffer Birmingham Brown. Moreland would be around for several more installments, but alas, he cannot save the film. Neither can Charlie Chans famous pithy comments; he needed a better writer than he got here. About the best he can muster is, Detective without curiosity like glass eye at keyhole: no good. Mainly, he talks in telegram speak: Must call cab. Go hotel. I think he got the same elocution lessons as Johnny Weissmuller.
In case youre wondering how I managed to stay awake through the entire 3 and ½ hour running time of the film *checking the box* sorry, 65 minutes, Ill tell you: I got up this morning, took in a little exercise, made a strong pot of Earl Grey tea (extra caffeine), and sat in the most uncomfortable chair in the house. Even at that, I had problems. For the next film, I may need to stitch my eyelashes to my forehead.
The first six Monogram releases have just been dropped on the market in a DVD set called THE CHARLIE CHAN CHANTHOLOGY, and are also available separately.
The Chan films have lately come under scrutiny for their racism; obviously, they are a product of their times, and I dont find them particularly offensive, but then, Ive seen a lot worse in old movies. And Im not Chinese, either. On the other hand, they dont seem to come under scrutiny for what really ails them: most of them are as dull as the finish on a 49 John Deere tractor. Once a fixture on the Late, Late Show, the Chan films are guaranteed to infect even the most rampant insomniacs with narcolepsy.
CHARLIE CHAN IN THE SECRET SERVICE (1944, directed by Phil Rosen of RETURN OF THE APE MAN fame, if you can call it fame), the first of the Monogram Chans, has exactly one good moment, and its the opening scene of the picture: a supply ship is blown out of the water. Its obviously a cheap Monogram model in a tub of water, though, but before our minds can finish registering the dismay of Uh-oh, typical Monogram cheesy special effects, the camera pulls back and we see that its REALLY a cheap model in a tub of water, part of a scientists experiment. Before our minds can finish registering, Hey, that was funny, maybe this movies gonna be pretty good, though, the film proper begins, and it doesnt take long for THAT hope to be dashed.
The scientist has soon dropped dead, and it looks like natural causes, except that his plans for a new torpedo have vanished. The house is sealed off, the suspects are quarantined, and honorable Chan, Charlie, is brought in to shuffle around aimlessly for an hour until the film ends. Incidentally, the problem with these Chan films can be seen early in the picture: once Charlie is given his assignment and says goodbye to his son and daughter, any other director wouldve faded to Charlies arrival at the house. Well, no, not when weve got 65 minutes to fill, buster. Instead, we see Mr. Chan leave his office, go to the elevator, walk across the lobby, shuffle down the stairs, cross the sidewalk, say something to the cab driver, open the cab door, enter the cab, shut the cab door, drive away in the cab, arrive at the house, get out of the cab, nod to the gatekeeper, walk up the driveway, and arrive at the house, all to swelling dramatic music. The transition takes no less than one minute and 34 seconds (I timed it; believe you me, youll be doing a lot of clock-watching during this picture).
Noting the thinness of the plot and the need for additional padding, the screenwriter gave us not one, not two, but three comedy relief characters. Marianne Quon, who is adorable but makes her only appearance in the series, is Charlies daughter Iris, while Benson Fong is son Tommy (taking over the role of pesky would-be-helpful doofus son from Victor Sen Yung). Most notable of all is Mantan Moreland, debuting in the series as chauffer Birmingham Brown. Moreland would be around for several more installments, but alas, he cannot save the film. Neither can Charlie Chans famous pithy comments; he needed a better writer than he got here. About the best he can muster is, Detective without curiosity like glass eye at keyhole: no good. Mainly, he talks in telegram speak: Must call cab. Go hotel. I think he got the same elocution lessons as Johnny Weissmuller.
In case youre wondering how I managed to stay awake through the entire 3 and ½ hour running time of the film *checking the box* sorry, 65 minutes, Ill tell you: I got up this morning, took in a little exercise, made a strong pot of Earl Grey tea (extra caffeine), and sat in the most uncomfortable chair in the house. Even at that, I had problems. For the next film, I may need to stitch my eyelashes to my forehead.
