Constance Bennett, as Carla, the alluring Russian spy, strives vainly to convince us that "Marx brothers hocus-pocus" was a thing of the past, specifically of the World War era. We can believe many things, but we cannot swallow this story. Carla passionately loves Rudi, who is in the intelligence department of Austria, and she pursues ugly pseudo-Gypsies so that she may give them important messages to take back to dear old Russia. She writes cryptic notes with invisible ink; she is always just about to cross the border; she sees the dirty fingernails of a Russian soldier with black circles on them and immediately recognizes the significance of the circles. Circles, circles, K 14, the sordidness of the filthy madness. Spies are doing their best, and what do they get? Carla got nothing; this was Rudi's fault. When one of Carla's accomplices shoots Rudi so that they may escape, Rudi's face brightens.--We know that they use blanks in Hollywood. But why not pretend?--"Blessings on you, Carla," says Rudi as the bullet pierces his arm, or chest... "Sooch a lock of patriotism, not to shoot the spy." The director paled. "Don't be crazy, Professor. They shot Mata Hari, and Marlene Dietrich in her spy picture. And did the public eat it, did the public eat it? No. The public wants realism."

"The Kennel Murder Case" is a less pretentious film than "After Tonight," and it is a movie that will amuse you if you have liked the earlier Philo Vance mysteries. William Powell as the master of modern sleuths unwinds the complex mystery quite ingeniously.