Though mainly notable for being the first "100% Talkie", this one is still reasonably well-regarded; it is also a fine example of an early gangster film – incidentally, I have a handful of other such efforts unwatched from that first initial burst within this most invigorating of genres.
That said, the mobster of this one is more akin to the hissable villain from some old barnstormer, complete with pencil-thin moustache, rather than the larger-than-life types (fast-talking, no-nonsense, eventually hysterical) subsequently made their own – at the same studio, Warners, no less – by the likes of Robinson, Cagney and Bogart! Even so, the action here is extremely modest – being relegated to the silhouetted shooting of a cop during a bootlegging 'job' and the behind-the-curtain execution of the villain. The aftermath of the latter sequence, however, elevates the suspense quotient considerably as the killing occurs in a barber shop immediately prior to a police 'raid' so that the victim is put up in a chair by the owner (Eugene Palette), lathered and generally treated as any other customer, before he slips down to the floor!
The rest of the cast is made up of now-forgotten actors (apart from a young Tom Dugan – the Hitler impersonator from Lubitsch's TO BE OR NOT TO BE [1942] – as one of the hoodlum's stooges, here looking an awful lot like Lon Chaney!). Still, the performances (ditto the plot of small-town love rekindled in the big city, the fleecing/selling of naïve fellows by slick-looking-but-obviously-slimy-heels, and the jilted ageing mistress furnishing the villain's inevitable come-uppance) are all delightfully of their time, and the film itself very enjoyable if approached in the right frame-of-mind. Indeed, the only major let-downs here are the static camera-work and the wholly resistible (yet obligatory) musical numbers. By the way, the director had been one of the "Seven Little Foys", sons of popular vaudevillian Eddie Foy; he later changed gears to producing, with perhaps his most successful effort being the 3-D horror classic HOUSE OF WAX (1953).
That said, the mobster of this one is more akin to the hissable villain from some old barnstormer, complete with pencil-thin moustache, rather than the larger-than-life types (fast-talking, no-nonsense, eventually hysterical) subsequently made their own – at the same studio, Warners, no less – by the likes of Robinson, Cagney and Bogart! Even so, the action here is extremely modest – being relegated to the silhouetted shooting of a cop during a bootlegging 'job' and the behind-the-curtain execution of the villain. The aftermath of the latter sequence, however, elevates the suspense quotient considerably as the killing occurs in a barber shop immediately prior to a police 'raid' so that the victim is put up in a chair by the owner (Eugene Palette), lathered and generally treated as any other customer, before he slips down to the floor!
The rest of the cast is made up of now-forgotten actors (apart from a young Tom Dugan – the Hitler impersonator from Lubitsch's TO BE OR NOT TO BE [1942] – as one of the hoodlum's stooges, here looking an awful lot like Lon Chaney!). Still, the performances (ditto the plot of small-town love rekindled in the big city, the fleecing/selling of naïve fellows by slick-looking-but-obviously-slimy-heels, and the jilted ageing mistress furnishing the villain's inevitable come-uppance) are all delightfully of their time, and the film itself very enjoyable if approached in the right frame-of-mind. Indeed, the only major let-downs here are the static camera-work and the wholly resistible (yet obligatory) musical numbers. By the way, the director had been one of the "Seven Little Foys", sons of popular vaudevillian Eddie Foy; he later changed gears to producing, with perhaps his most successful effort being the 3-D horror classic HOUSE OF WAX (1953).