Grade: C
It's 1940 in San Francisco, and the titular fatal hour has already claimed its first body. Don't worry, Secret Asian Man is on the job!
("There's something Wong here . . . very Wong . . .")
Yes, here we have Frankenstein's monster starring as a Chinese detective, and not just in this one, but in four of the remaining five Mr. Wong films. (The sixth installment of the short-lived series starred -- amazingly, given the era -- an actual Chinese actor. Imagine!) To the movie's credit, though, there's a refreshing lack of racism (again, a nice surprise for that day and age). Karloff dons a western suit and spectacles, rather than a changshan and funny hat; speaks with no accent; and wears a Clark Gable mustache, rather than a full-on Fu Manchu (as he did when playing the actual Fu Manchu in 1932).
("What, did I say something Wong?")
What we lack in racism is more than made up for in female reporter spunkitude, as Bobbie Logan sticks her intrepid little nose wherever the shout-em-down, is-he-or-isn't-he-her-boyfriend head cop tells her she shouldn't. Nothing new here as far as the hot scoop trope is concerned, though because the film is one in a series we missed out on the usual offer of marriage that swoops in just before the ending title card (though Bobbie did manage to put in a good swoon, just to make up for it).
(Wong place, Wong time)
So far, nothing too memorable, right? Well, there's nothing really wong with this film -- excepting, of course, the strange effect it has on our desire to make increasingly hackneyed rhotacistic puns. The acting is fine, the plot is believable, and there are enough red herrings so that things aren't too predictable. It's short, too, which is always a plus. That's really about all, though -- nothing so bad or so good that it can be singled out for recommendation. It's fine as a break from marauding apes and freaky vampires, but given the option we wouldn't miss Wheel of Fortune for it.
("Yolanda? You must have the Wong numbah.")
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