William Powell stars in this 1933 detective drama. Only running a little over an hour, the film deals w/a disgraced & down & luck liaison officer now forced to work as a private eye from a firm that's not operating from a moral high ground which comes into focus when Powell gets a case to trail a socialite, played by Margaret Lindsay, who's been on a roll winning money at a casino & set her up for a fall at the behest of the casino owner who doesn't want to pay her but when Powell's partner concocts a double cross (the owner gets Lindsay to meet him for the pay out & when he reneges, she pulls out a pistol so when he lunges at her she fires, escaping the scene w/o the cash not knowing her gun was tinkered with so basically she fired blanks) but when the casino guy turns up dead, Powell must prove Lindsay's innocence & catch the real killer. This plot point happens w/20 minutes to go leaving the opening 40 minutes feeling like so much filler that Powell's charm rides like a surfer but as it is, it's not enough.
Review of Private Detective 62
