Michael Shayne, Private Detective (1940) is our latest TV viewing. This is the first installment of a series of seven films starring Lloyd Nolan in the eponymous role. Shayne’s a bit down on his luck, as even the boys working for the repo man have little respect for his promises of solvency, but he doesn’t let that get in the way of his deductive reasoning, whether it’s to foil the police inspector’s suspicions about his latest activities, or to investigate the gunshot death of the man who he’s drugged and wiped ketchup all over.
But his powers of reasoning do not overcome the tide of random, willful activities of those all around him, whether it’s the young femmé gambler (quite the addict, she is) he’s been hired to oversee, or the delightful Aunt Olivia, an addict herself – to murder mystery stories. Good plots often feature clever plans gone awry, and Shayne, as clever as he may be, cannot depend on his plans to always work out – but a quick tongue can sometimes turn the lock on the latest problem.
And, more interesting, and unlike Bogart’s Sam Spade, Nolan’s Shayne did inspire me to wonder about the character of the private detective. Does it require a formal education? Or is this something a clever man, short in the credentials department but overly gifted in the gall section, turns to as he realizes that the habits of EveryMan are not for him?
Like many movies from this period, it’s a pleasant way to spend a couple of hours, especially if you like frisky old ladies trying to teach a lesson to the younger crowd.
