Wouldn't a "living ghost" just be, you know, a regular person? Morons. Anyway, this is basically a murder mystery and it's pretty lame. A detective gets hired to track down some old coot, but before he can even start accusing people the coot turns up in the sitting room. (Not to be confused with the shitting room. I made that mistake once and trust me, it is embarrassing.) The old geezer's in some sort of trance (or possibly just baked out of his gourd), but it not like he's dead or anything so if it was my call I'd file this case under "solved" and grab the next bus back to the city. That retainer isn't gonna drink itself. This detective keeps hanging around though, and when another cat gets stabbed the game is afoot. Such as it is. I did like the main broad's self-loathing ("I wouldn't contaminate the human race with our children!") and they do manage to sneak in a couple of dick jokes ("Don't get all swelled up, Mr. Trayne..."; "My wooden leg needs lubricating.") and some godless evolution, but overall this flick is pretty boring. And who doesn't know which end of a knife is the "business end"? Duh. After the detective wraps it all up and explains to anybody who will listen how clever he is, this cop tells him "That's what I call being on the beam!" I'm not exactly sure what he means by that, but after sitting through this stupid flick I think I need to get on the Beam myself: