'Let 'em Have It (1935),' a taut 1930s gangster flick, has since fallen out of all popular recognition, but remains worthwhile viewing – if you can find it – thanks to the capable direction of Sam Wood, an undervalued workman who gave us two Marx Brothers comedies ('A Night at the Opera (1935)' and 'A Day at the Races (1937)') and the wonderful, unforgettable 'Goodbye, Mr Chips (1939).' This particular gangster thriller plays like a good version of Mann's 'Public Enemies (2009)': a group of young men (Richard Arlen, Gordon Jones, Harvey Stephens), having been recruited into the Department of Justice, must bring down murderous bank-robber Joe Keefer (Bruce Cabot), who is crossing the country looting and murdering at will.
The elegant presence of Virginia Bruce promises some romance for the ladies, but 'Let 'em Have It' is at its best when revelling in the intricate details of forensic procedure, whether it be matching the ballistic markings of a firearm, or reconstructing the profile of an assailant from teeth-marks left in an apple. The heroes occasionally seem like over-excited boy-scouts, especially Eric Linden as Buddy, but Richard Arlen has a quiet, brooding presence that offsets the occasional moments that resemble a thinly-veiled advertisement for Edgar J. Hoover's newly-named F.B.I. As Keefer, Bruce Cabot is also excellent, gradually spinning an innocuous small-time criminal into a murderous outlaw worthy of Dillinger or Baby Face Nelson. There's one scene that precludes the plastic surgery in Delmer Daves' noir 'Dark Passage (1947),' and a bandage unveiling that cannot be missed.
The elegant presence of Virginia Bruce promises some romance for the ladies, but 'Let 'em Have It' is at its best when revelling in the intricate details of forensic procedure, whether it be matching the ballistic markings of a firearm, or reconstructing the profile of an assailant from teeth-marks left in an apple. The heroes occasionally seem like over-excited boy-scouts, especially Eric Linden as Buddy, but Richard Arlen has a quiet, brooding presence that offsets the occasional moments that resemble a thinly-veiled advertisement for Edgar J. Hoover's newly-named F.B.I. As Keefer, Bruce Cabot is also excellent, gradually spinning an innocuous small-time criminal into a murderous outlaw worthy of Dillinger or Baby Face Nelson. There's one scene that precludes the plastic surgery in Delmer Daves' noir 'Dark Passage (1947),' and a bandage unveiling that cannot be missed.