One of you was cheating at pinochle, but I’m not sure who!
If you’re going to watch Up In The Air (1940), you’d best be prepared for a little racism, as Mantan Moreland plays his usual role as the terrified menial help, and it doesn’t help that there’s a blackface scene – although it doesn’t end well for the guy doing the deed.
But other than that, Up In The Air is a pleasant little murder mystery. When the lights go out during rehearsal at the radio station, star singer Rita, who proved to be a real bitch in her few minutes in the story[1], is shot dead. Who did it? The mysterious stranger who was quietly enjoying the show? One of the musicians? Hyper-kinetic page Frankie, eager to move up in the world?
The police eventually release everyone for want of evidence, and Frankie and his helper, Jeff, who together have been working on a comedy act, take it upon themselves to further the investigation. The mysterious stranger is the next to take it in the neck, just as the investigators discover he’s from Cheyenne and has a connection with a ‘Gladys Wharton,’ but who’s she? The dead singer? Her up and coming replacement, too-innocent Anne? Some floozy back in Cheyenne?
Things move along perhaps just a little too quickly, and the characterization was a little too scant so that when the murderer is finally fingered, I couldn’t remember who it was, so this is definitely a mediocre presentation.
But my Arts Editor said, considering the poor audio, the replacement singer Anne had a more than passable alto voice.
1 Although, to be honest, her employers were no gems themselves. The word defenestration actually crossed my mind during the one scene with her and the radio management.
