I hope writer Jack Boyle got some of the money that was made off his man "Boston Blackie"... there were TONS of films made with that character. Chester Morris was probably the best known. In this chapter, Blackie is the chaperone for some work release prisoners, and one escapes to dig up some stolen dough. Things go haywire, as they always do, and the caper is on! Blackie has to track down the guy who knows the truth, but the police are after HIM, so he has to stay one step ahead. The usual antics, and boy, the cops were silly back then. The story kind of goes all over the place, but its okay. And it's only a 65 minute shortie. Currently showing on Turner Classics. My favorite line in here is when the desk clerk sees the guy with the beard, and says "Hey, you with the chin drapes!" Most of it is pretty average, and for the last five minutes, the fistfight takes place in the dark... rather pointless. meh. Directed by William Castle, known for low budget yet fairly successful films.

It's more of the same here for Boston Blackie in the sixth of the series. Chances have it that the film itself is more mediocre than before, although there are some very amusing moments. Boston Blackie finds himself in trouble once again, wanted by the ever persistent (and still dumber than a box of unpublished scripts) and the even more idiotic Walter Reade, all because he aided old pal Erik Wolfe in covering up manslaughter. Joining other macho dudes who dressed in drag, Chester Morris disguises himself as a scrub maid, along with George E. Stone, getting Maude Eburne drunk in the film's best scene. But it's mostly bland, a repeat of what was already done (and better), with Lloyd Corrigan back once again along with other previous seen actors in different parts. Jeanne Bates, a brief Columbia contract actress, gets little to do as Rolfe's wife, kidnapped by the villains and the key to what really happened. At least, however, it's not a dreadful film, although I found myself starting to feel a bit of de ja vu. Six down, eight to go, and hoping for improvement.

"Your logic is simply hypnotic" says a "dumb copper" to Boston Blackie in The Chance of a Lifetime. I can't help but feel the logic of William Castle's directing follows in turn. Castle certainly developed his stylistic system and method of directing across his career, but this early entry characterizes his lack more than anything else (a lack he wold make up for in time). Diegetic space is constructed through shot scale cut-ins for an otherwise static camera. Later, Castle would develop his system with more mobile framing and angular contrapuntal direction (Ohmart in the Emergo scene in Haunted Hill is captured in a multiple of angular shots). In The Chance, the camera is positioned with frontality as the dominant. When groups of characters are framed, they huddle symmetrically staged in front of the camera lens creating balanced tableaux. The staging and blocking does not have the oblique quality prominent in later Castle films. The story itself involves Blackie's proposed plan to the state's Governor to parole ex-cons in order to aid in munitions manufacturing for the war. Recidivism and risk assessment are the name of the game as Blackie gets tangled up in the loose ends of an old crime of one of the paroled cons. There is good suspense and characterization but at times the acting is stilted while the dialogue is a little on-the-nose. As is characteristic of Castle "B" status films, plot contrivances abound. An earlier reviewer seemed to express that the contrivances are an asset or perhaps aid, while I cannot agree. The "cigarette gag" and "secret panel" gag have the lameness that makes narrative progress move forward with an awkward gait. The buffoonery of the police was an issue with the critics upon release as far as it concerns the status quo. For me, the portrayal of the police as stooges gets tired and leads to the story dragging somewhat (others may disagree). The ending involves confessions under extreme duress and although neat, are also an element of convenience at service for the production and not the audience. The flaws in directing would be repeated several times by Castle as he worked slowly to develop a more sound stylistic system.

I have seen just about all of the Chester Morris "Boston Blackie" films and have to say that this one is about the worst due to very, very bad writing. While the usual "dumb cop" schtick has worn too thin (Faraday and his assistant are sub-moronic clichés as police--too dumb to be anything other than tiresome), my main complaint is the dumb plot itself--it's just so ridiculous and hard to believe that the film soon lost me.Blackie has a plan and he asks the warden at a prison to parole ten men to him (himself, an ex-con) so the guys can work in a defense plant owned by his friend. This is unlikely, but since it was a WWII-era film, I could ignore this. But, when a man has committed a robbery and has only served a short amount of time and EVERYONE tells Blackie this man is too great a risk, Blackie STILL pushes for the man's release. Okay...not exactly believable,...but I guess I can go with this. However, when later this same prisoner's two old accomplices confront him and demand they split the stolen money, there is a struggle and one of the men is killed. So what does Blackie do when he discovers this? Tell the warden or call the police? No. Instead, he insanely convinces the police that HE (Blackie) killed the man and stole the loot!! This just made no sense at all, as it practically puts Blackie into the electric chair AND ruins the chances of his pet project to succeed. What were the writers thinking? About the only good part of the film involved Blackie and Runt dressing as cleaning women (something they did in another film--repetition is an ever-present problem for Blackie films as plot elements are recycled again and again). Unlike Sherlock Holmes, the Falcon or even Charlie Chan, the excessively repetitive nature of the Blackie series make seeing all the films rather unnecessary. I say see a few and then quit, otherwise it's all "like a case of déjà vu all over again" (Yogi Berra).By the way, if you look closely, you'll see Sid Melton is one of the parolees. Sid was "Alf Monroe" from the TV series GREEN ACRES.