The Panther's Claw (1942)

This is a cute blend of comedy and mystery as others have said. It is at least as good as a modern TV sitcom. I thought Byron Foulger did a great job as the suspicious character who just might be a bad guy. He is so addled being questioned by the police and so scared of his wife and 5 daughters it makes for a sympathetic and charming hero. The plot slowly bumps along with plenty of red herrings thrown around and more humour stirred in with the stereotyped black elevator operator doing the step and fetch it style humour good for a little chuckle. If hubby who really does not like B and W movies stayed interested, then that is enough to recommend it.

Anthony Abbot's fictional detective, Police Commissioner Thatcher Colt, inspired only two little known Columbia features, 1932's "The Night Club Lady" and 1933's "The Circus Queen Murder," so after a decade's passing, Poverty Row's PRC took a crack at the character with "The Panther's Claw," intended to be only the first in a new series that came to naught. Replacing two-time Colt Adolphe Menjou with dependable Sidney Blackmer (an excellent choice), the often comic story is derived from Abbot's 1940 short story, "About the Perfect Crime of Mr. Digberry." In keeping Digberry (Byron Foulger) at the forefront, Blackmer's Colt is reduced in stature, conducting a too leisurely investigation as other annoying suspects get an abundance of screen time until he comes on strong at the end. Sadly missing from this PRC Colt are his faithful assistant Miss Kelly, delightfully portrayed by Ruthelma Stevens, and his unique lip reading abilities, which at least made him stand out from his inspiration, Van Dine's Philo Vance. Speaking of which, this would be the screen finale of Thatcher Colt, just as PRC also brought Philo Vance to his end, in a three picture series from 1947. Both characters suffered the same fate on television, as neither were ever revived for small screen incarnations. In hindsight, I believe that PRC was not only better than Monogram with mysteries (Charlie Chan), but also the horror genre, as their stories usually wasted no time getting underway; feel free to disagree.

The war years saw a lot of "pretty good" movies, relatively innocuous stories, usually good entertainment, the sort one would rat 4-7, with a few poorly directed slow moving ones a little less.And it's unfortunate that movie makers post 1965 sought to emulate the slow pace dull ones. It would take 30 years for film makers to learn their mistakes. Such was their incompetence. A man on the street could have done better than 98% of producers, directors, and writers from 1965-1995; it was truly the error of "rich kids and children with the silver spoon" at the reins.But these war years were full of fairly safe vehicles. Some were smartly done, like this murder mystery.We have a mystery here that begins with the comedy and affable personalities first, then goes into the plot, and that's what makes the atmosphere style murder mystery work.This is expertly done, and could be used for a film class to show how to make a film. It is "Entertainment".

A thoroughly disappointing noir is Producers Releasing Corp's The Panther's Claw (1942), the last of three movies featuring Thatcher Colt. The first two, both starring Adolphe Menjou as Colt, have been screened by TCM – and marvelous they are too. So I was really looking forward to the third, even though Sidney Blackmer is no Menjou. But it turns out that, although top-billed, Blackmer is not the star after all. It's Byron Foulger, of all people, who enjoys the lion's share of the action, as he plays the title character in Anthony Abbot's story, "The Perfect Crime of Mr Digberry", upon which the film is based. Now Mr Foulger is a neat-as-a-pin Milquetoast and I really enjoy him in small doses. As a lead, however, he tends to way out-stay his welcome. Unfortunately, aside from Blackmer, Rick Vallin (as his assistant), Herbert Rawlinson (as the D.A.) and Frank Darien (in a small role as a wig-maker), the support players are even less beguiling. Martin Mooney's talky, dialogue-bound screenplay doesn't help either, while P.R.C.'s notoriously sparse production values and Bill Beaudine's disinterested direction provide the last words in boredom.