With East Side Kids, Monogram has crowed in the most at-best-mediocre way possible that they were in the “ripping off the hard work of Warner Brothers and Universal” business. Made as a calling card, and surely not for entertainment, their movie (East Side Kids) started a franchise (East Side Kids). Now they just needed a troupe (“East Side Kids”). Thankfully (for Monogram, sure as hell not for me), this demonic temptation wooed some of the real actors (“Dead End Kids,” “Little Tough Guys”) Monogram yearned after. And with Monogram’s one-week movie turnaround (hence their crappiness), it was ever so easy for their underage thespians to now juggle two indistinguishable delinquency franchises at once.
Most importantly, now on board for the long East Side Kid haul is new “lead boy” Bobby Jordan (Billy Halop having altogether too much self-respect to put his soul at hazard)…(In fact, Halop’s generous Little Tough Guys salary put him at odds with his grotesque costars. Rather than succumb to Monogram’s siren spell, Halop fought in WWII, good lad, then quit the “1930s delinquent genre” entirely – aging and all. Sadly, a lack of success in other roles put Halop in a 1946 East Side Kids rip-off – ouch! – called Gas House Kids. And that ends entirely this blog’s concern with the Halop hagiography.)
Also joining Jordan were the highly-coveted brothers Gorcey, Leo and David. Leo takes on the “second boy” role normally held by Huntz Hall, Hall like Halop holding his head high against Monogram’s evil – until 1941. David has so far been an unnotable figure in the troupe’s franchises, but this begins his extraordinary prolificacy, seconds only to Hall over the four-franchise span.
Overall, the boy count has been upped from 6 to 8, spitting in the face of formula dictates – because Monogram’s Mono-greed far exceeds a devotion to even bad filmmaking. Some of the former lads from East Side Kids remain, in greatly reduced parts. Hence Donald Haines still essays the role of Peewee, Frankie Burke the role of Skinny. Eugene Francis’ broad wealthy caricature Algy Wilkes too remains, even promoted now to “East Side Kid” status…Oh, and Hal E. Chester, the lead of East Side Kids, is here too, but in the new role of Buster, seeing as Jordan stole his former character Danny Barton.
Indeed, there is consistency, and actual honest-to-goodness continuity, in this sequel (unheard of for 1940 Bs). Of course Monogram bungles it, randomly reassigning some characters but not others, adding new characters, there is no consistency here! (It comes of laziness.) An example of that, though Danny’s face is changed most awkwardly, his brother Knuckles (Dave O’Brien) remains the same, a recurring franchise character. It comes of laziness too, as dragging Knuckles along eliminates the need to write new back story for a new father figure in each episode.
Another notable addition to the troupe is Ernie “Sunshine Sammy” Morrison as the one and only black member of any of the four franchises. That’s all well and good, but it doesn’t excuse the ghastly Sambo-shufflin’ racial insult that is Morrison’s character Scruno. (Scruno?! The hell?!) A professional token, Morrison was the very first child cast for Our Gang (Little Rascals, you know), now rejoining some of his former cast mates. Scruno (I still detest that name) is an outlier among the “East Side Kids,” a calculated and inappropriate addition. He’s still less offensive than Stepin Fetchit or Mantan Moreland…
New cast roster out of the way, onwards to Boys of the City. That title is a misnomer, for within the first 10 minutes the boys are sent out of the city, off to the countryside. In-story, this is Knuckles’ attempt to “keep them off the streets” lest they commit a string of sudden, brazen felonies. In the filmmakers’ terms, it is an excuse to drop the melodramatic underpinnings of East Side Kids they were all clearly uncomfortable with. Instead here’s the chance to usher a preset roster of talent through all the token plotlines of the ‘40s. Today is a haunted house story.
The trip to the countryside is beset by sudden breakdowns every 100 yards or so – for two sets of cars. In the other car is Judge Parker (Forrest Taylor), a good 12 years before the like-named comic strip, on his way out to the old family mansion to avoid assassination by the mob. (It’s the old standard “they want him dead before he can testify in court” setup, which is thankfully treated as the plot mechanic it is.) On their way with J.P. to Briarfoot Manor (or maybe Briarhouse Manor, or Briarcliff Manor, as the script cannot quite settle), for whatever reason, are his simpering bodyguard Simp (Vince Barnett, of 1932’s Scarface), a useless major domo called Jiles, and Louise (Inna Gest), an attractive woman along for the ride solely because she is an attractive woman and what is a movie without an attractive woman?
In the numerous breakdowns, it falls to the East Side Kids (and Knuckles) to usher everyone up to Briarstool. Around now, a series trademark standard malapropism (“Don’t jump to confusions”) is malapropped…by Leo Gorcey?! This was always Huntz Hall’s gimmick, e’er since They Made Me a Criminal, but with Hall hiding, new second banana Gorcey seizes the chance to cannibalize his compatriot’s shenanigan.
Reaching Briarshart, we learn the real reason black actor Morrison wasn’t cast in one of these films until a horror pastiche. Oh yeah, it’s the same fucking “black person is eternally frightened” gag from Blondie Has Servant Trouble, Charlie Chan in Egypt, Charlie Chan in the Secret Service, oh hell, every Monogram Charlie Chan, and almost certainly countless other era productions I’ve yet to see. Scruno sees some gravestones, sitting silently minding their own business, and is instantly scared: “Gh-gh-ghos’!” Really?! [Sigh.] “Missah, I’s a-scared o’ de ghos’.” Man, this is the sort of disgusting racism lampooned in Blazing Saddles – a movie I started quoting wildly at this point.
The East Side Kids’ jalopy has conked out (for the 6th time), so they must spend the night – in a haunted house! Then Louise, the only woman, sees the cemetery and opines a shriek: “Eek! A graveyard!” Seriously? DAMN IT! It’s just inanimate rocks PUT THERE BY HUMANS! There’s nothing so yelp-worthy about it! (Oh, and then Scruno sees a person inside Briarqueef, and hyperventilates in assumption it is another “ghos’.” Okay, can we drop this yet?)
Agnes the housekeeper answers, doing a perfect variation on Frau Blücher from Young Frankenstein. Actress Minerva Urecal is fantastic, a perfect slice of ham and cheese. In regards to the countless dead ancestors here, she mutters like a female Bela Lugosi: “There is never any warmth where the dead do not rest.” I like Agnes! In another Blücher-esque moment, she even leads the East Side Kids up a staircase with a candlestick, which is more exciting than it sounds. Scruno: “I sho’ does miss dat ol’ plantation.” Shut UP, Scruno!
The adults, the ones with an actual plot, debate the possibility of a murderer tracking J.P. here. As they discuss this, an unidentified gangster creeps along through a spooky window unseen. How do I know he’s a gangster? By his three-piece suit, and ever-present fedora. In the East Side Kids franchise, all human occupations are conveyed through broad visual shorthand.
Agnes serves the East Side Kids a magnificent feast, sneaking through the expected rotating secret passageways. Scruno is given a large edible mass I cannot identify in black and white. But he “helps” me out: “Boy, I dinnah likes tha’ woman, an’ I dinnah likes tha’ graveyard, but WHOOP I sho’ nuff does likes watermelon.” Then he buries his face in it!
I am seriously flabbergasted. Never thought I’d actually see that one! (I also think I’m obsessing a tad about Mel Brooks…)
The lads all smoke big cigars (in their fancy dining cars). Later on, they all feel ill (they inhaled – a no-no with cigars). They go off (to puke where Hays cannot see them), while the adults enter to discuss the potential for moider (that’s “murder,” made “authentic” in a ‘40s criminal milieu). And a romance heats up between Knuckles and Louise, which doesn’t matter ‘cause she won’t be back in the next one.
(One way Boys of the City is superior to the first – or “foist” – East Side Kids is that it has scenes of a generous length, allowed to transpire calmly and with purpose. That’s the benefit of haunted house stories, they seem to force discipline on otherwise horrible directors – in today’s case, Joseph H. Lewis, whose “H.” is a vain effort to appear professional.)
Along comes another scene I cannot help but comment on (this is less a recap than it is a catalogue of individual bizarre moments). Agnes strokes and caresses Louise’ arm for quite a long time, throwing in an unmistakable lesbian subtext when you’d think 1940 couldn’t sustain it, let alone in a family movie. “You have such nice, soft, white skin, pretty lady.” Agnes starts to exposit rapturously about the dead Lenora (Poe reference misremembered?). In a sad attempt at a “twist,” they don’t tell us what is obvious until the end – that Lenora was J.P.’s former wife. This is a wannabe scene from Rebecca, clear given Boys of the City’s release date relative to that 1940 Hitchcock film. Then Agnes leaves, and that sneaky gangster nabs Louise from behind a rotating bookcase passageway (!).
The rest of Boys of the City plays out with a “Scooby”-esque investigation, done by the East Side Kids. Thinking Briarmurka a “moigue full of noises,” all head downstairs just as organ music is hoid. Let us hear again from Scruno: “It’s dem ghos’ses agin!” No one it at the organ, but then Agnes arrives to explain it was Lenora’s organ, and “she play it every night.” Hell, I play with my organ every n- Hey, how ‘bout them Knicks? But, wait, I’m interrupting Agnes’ ranting: “She cannot rest until she gets revenge – on him…Leave this house tonight. MWAH HAH HAH HAH!” That is a direct quote!
Directionless investigations soon take on a genuine purpose as J.P.’s dead, deceased corpse is found murdered to death in the upstairs parlor. Adults lobby accusations as this piece transforms into a mystery in the final 20 minutes. The East Side Kids tie up the various adults, the only real suspects, and split up for a joint creeping session.
Our attention remains with Danny and Muggs (Jordan and Gorcey the Greater), and it’s just as well they don’t do an extended scary sequence with Scruno. Muggs is familiar with secret passageways in haunted houses, in perhaps the most meta moment in all of 1940 cinema. He even directly references The Thin Man! Playing with one’s organ opens a spinning door, and so Danny and Muggs move along into the dark, dark passageway beyond. It’s a little too dark, seemingly due to overreliance on a night filter. And that gangster guy follows along behind the boys in a way that is technically referred to as “lurking.” (See Ed Wood.)
The lurking scene lurks on for a bit too long, which is how a lesser director manages suspense. Ignoring the lack of stuff to comment upon, it concludes with the boys discovering the gangster, and besting him in a battle of fisticuffsmanship.
The gangster is tied up, our killer caught, except…He offers up an epilogue explanation. The gangster is actually Jim Harrison, D.A. (Alden “Stephen” Chase), who was here in an effort to stop J.P.’s real killer. (He failed, because J.P. is dead.) Accusations again are lobbied. Obvious suspect Agnes escapes suspicion as another corpse is found, someone she swears she never would have moidered – the cook. (This cadaver’s discovery affords a moment of racist terror, which demands visual representation.)
But it turns out J.P.’s killer was his so-called bodyguard, Simp, who is actually a triggerman for the gangsters (the real gangsters, not moonlighting D.A.s). All is over now, but for a concluding joke, to let us go out on a laugh. It’s a shame they had to go with a joke specifically about Scuno’s skin color, as the other East Side Kids try to eat his hands, mistaking them for chocolate cake. I cannot make up stuff like that!
Okay, ignoring the anti-black stuff (a necessary strategy for enjoying so very much from this era), Boys of the City is a lot more enjoyable than East Side Kids. It isn’t a quarter as gritty, which some may see as a problem. In fact, it barely resembles anything from Dead End Kids or Little Tough Guys, themselves realistic, gritty examinations of hoodlumism. But that’s for the better, if the competence level of East Side Kids (the movie) is what we can expect of Monogram’s aping efforts. Rather, a cheap little genre pastiche like Boys of the City is much more in this franchise’s grasp, and something I support. Besides, it allows the troupe to really earn their keep, as Boys of the City is only distinguished from the hundreds of other ‘40s ghost movies by the “East Side Kids’” rapport. So bring on a succession of other genres!
Related posts:
• No. 1 East Side Kids (1940)
• No. 3 That Gang of Mine (1940)
• No. 4 Pride of the Bowery (1940)
• No. 5 Flying Wild (1941)
• No. 6 Bowery Blitzkrieg (1941)
• No. 7 Spooks Run Wild (1941)
• No. 8 Mr. Wise Guy (1942)
• No. 9 Let's Get Tough! (1942)
• No. 10 Smart Alecks (1942)
• No. 11 'Neath Brooklyn Bridge (1942)
• No. 12 Kid Dynamite (1942)
• No. 13 Clancy Street Boys (1943)
• No. 14 Ghosts on the Loose (1943)
• No. 16 Million Dollar Kid (1944)
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