THE BRASS MONKEY is a bizarre cross-genre mix of thriller and variety show, of real-life and make-believe. In fact it's one of the oddest films I've seen of the 1940s, as it comes across as an attempt to tack a half-hearted murder mystery/thriller style plot onto some very dated 'talent show' stagings which certainly haven't stood the test of time.The film features real-life Canadian radio star Carroll Levis, who visits England and becomes embroiled in the hunt for a stolen brass ornament that's being pursued by a wealthy collector (THE BRIDE OF FRANKENSTEIN's Ernest Thesiger). A shady Herbert Lom hangs around and looks, well, shady, while the lovely and tragic Carole Landis (who would take her own life shortly after this film was made) brings plenty of glamour to her central part.There are a couple of murders to enliven things and some plodding police procedural stuff to drag them down again. The last third of the film is given over to a variety show where real-life entertainers play themselves; a pianist called Hutch, a comedienne by the name of Avril Angers, and finally Terry-Thomas himself, constantly mugging. There's a surprising plot twist at the end, but I have to admit this dated talent show stuff left me cold and reminded me of the glut of reality TV plaguing our screens in the modern age. Thus THE BRASS MONKEY is a film I can hardly say I enjoyed, although fans of any of the main participants (are there still any?) will no doubt want to see it.

Minor mystery notable mostly as the final film of Carole Landis before her suicide. The mystery is average but what makes this stand out is that approximately the final third of the picture shoves the main plot aside to present a variety show since the main male lead Carroll Levis, a well known radio personality of the time, could not act and to spare him and the audience they had him emcee this concoction containing some good musical performances and some weak comedy bits. Avril Angers, a noted comedienne, is saddled with a character that is supposed to be charmingly daffy but comes across as idiotic. As for Carole Landis the Ping Girl performs her part professionally although its obvious that the quality of her films was declining if this cheapie was the best that was being offered. If you aren't familiar with her she looks well, slim and well put together but once you realize that she was only 29 years old when this was made her appearance becomes shocking. She is dangerously thin and looks at least five to ten years older at times, plagued by the aftereffects of malaria and other diseases she had incurred while entertaining the troops during WWII plus a very messy private life the strain was obviously beginning to take its toll.

The two previous excellent reviews present a fair, balanced, and accurate view of this movie. It is of interest now primarily as a period piece---actually an English period piece: believe me when I tell you that in 1948 there wasn't one American in 500,000 who had ever heard of Carroll Levis, "England's favorite Canadian." There is, however, a second and far more important reason for this movie's value. It captures the luminous Carole Landis at the height of her beauty (and very shortly before her tragic suicide at 29). If ever there was a movie actress who was not only breathtakingly beautiful and amazingly talented, but also underused, unappreciated, and relegated (for the most part, as here) to roles far beneath her, it was Carole Landis. She lost what could have been her best Hollywood years by her unselfish, indefatigable, tireless entertainment of American troops throughout the world in World War II, surpassing even Bob Hope and Martha Raye in miles traveled and military outposts visited. As above noted, she was in a class by herself for beauty, absolutely nonpareil in face and figure---Betty Grable and Alice Faye were just pretty made-up dolls in comparison. What a shame that, in the end, she ended up in fare such as this.

"The Brass Monkey" is a low-budget comedy-thriller-cum-variety show of little artistic merit but maybe some slight curiosity value. It is most likely to appeal to viewers with a nostalgic interest in 1940s popular culture. It does have a story, concerning the efforts of Mr Ryder-Harris, a British convert to Buddhism, to recover three very precious and sacred brass figurines of the wise monkeys - hear no evil, see no evil, speak no evil - originally made for a Japanese temple. With the involvement of a crooked art dealer and his underworld associates, the quest for the stolen third monkey turns nasty and a couple of people are shot dead. But viewers will probably care no more about the details of all this than the writers and performers appear to have done. It is not a compelling tale. Made in England by an American director, "The Brass Monkey" is an uneasy transatlantic mish-mash in respect of both style and casting. The plot-line and production values resemble those of American murder-mystery potboilers of the time, such as the Charlie Chan and Falcon series. The leading lady, Carole Landis, performs in full Hollywood glamour mode in modest British settings (Southampton and London) with a supporting cast of British character actors and light comedians. The central figure of the film, however - I hesitate to call him 'the star' - is Carroll Levis, playing himself. This prompts the question: who was Carroll Levis? To anyone watching the film, it is unnecessary to point out that he certainly wasn't an actor. Levis presented a popular radio variety show and was - we are told - "Britain's favourite Canadian". Ah, such fleeting fame! He may be envisaged as a precursor of Hughie Green, compère of "Opportunity Knocks", the old British television talent contest. At his side is Avril Angers, trying hard to get laughs in the guise of a silly secretary. Her patter is a weak imitation of American 'wise-cracking'.The last third of the film is largely turned over to a succession of variety acts performed on the Carroll Levis radio show. Terry Thomas makes-up as an elderly man to sing "Somebody blew my bluebird egg" in a Swiss-German accent. Avril Angers delivers an energetic comic number about the housing shortage. Mr Fred Cross from London gives a rendition on the musical saw of "Believe me if all those endearing young charms". Winnie from Halifax plays "The Flight of the Bumble Bee" on her piano accordion. Meanwhile, the police inspector swiftly winds up the unengaging mystery. Occasional bursts of portentous music add unintended humour to this awkward confection of light entertainment.