This time Mr Moto (Peter Lorre) of the oily tongue and suave detection traps a gang of international murderers under circumstances that even baffles a beleaguered Scotland Yard. He’s a one-man Hawkshaw who performs miracles, these not excluding the way he escapes from traps laid for him, from flocks of hoodlums, from gunfire, and from wet feet, or a head cold. Nothing can touch him, that also going for romance.
The story is hackneyed and the dialog isn’t brilliant but the vital element in pictures of this kind, action, is in evidence in abundance.
Norman Foster, who directed, also collaborated on the original story and adaptation with Philip MacDonald. Neither the story nor the direction arouse any discussion concerning genius though getting high enough of a rating not to flunk.
Lorre is standard by now [in the fifth of the series] as the detective character but he’s too much this side of requirements to engage in the fisticuffs handed him in this one. As a Eurasian girl, Karen Sorrell is an interesting screen type but held down on dialog. Henry Wilcoxon rather colorlessly does a steel mogul from Czechoslovakia, while Mary Maguire plays the secretary who’s in love with him.