Home

Michael Shayne: Private Detective

(1940)

This private eye gets blamed for a murder, so he has to find the real killer before they put him in the slammer. Old-time private eyes are usually badasses, but this one doesn't kill anybody, punch out anywhere near enough people, score with any bitches, or say enough cool shit, and he lets this hot chick and her Murder She Wrote aunt do half the work. Now that I think about it, pretty much all he does do is twirl this watch around and come up with these ridiculous, complicated schemes that make him look even more guilty than he did in the first place. He manages to solve the case in the end, but mainly because he's done so much confusing shit that it's just easier for the bad guys to confess than to try to figure out what the fuck's going on. That's a pretty weak way to handle your business if you ask me, but whatever works I guess.