Potential viewers be warned, the current IMDb viewer rating for "Tomorrow at Seven" is an anomaly of low voter turnout. It has an interesting premise, a killer leaves an Ace of Spades calling card at the scene of his crimes, while alerting the victim in advance. The execution falls flat however, and to say that the movie has it's share of plot holes would be to imply that there actually is a plot.

Chester Morris portrays mystery writer Neil Broderick, weaving elements of actual murders by the Ace of Spades killer into his latest novel. Broderick intends to interview a wealthy businessman for his book, but first he has to get past the man's eccentric secretary - "If you line his relatives up, you'd have enough nuts to hold a Ford together". That line unceremoniously endears him to the "nut's" daughter Martha (Vivienne Osborne), who offers to make the introductions.

Broderick meets Thornton Drake (Henry Stephenson) just as the latter is about to complete a jigsaw puzzle delivered by a courier that morning. The only remaining pieces, as we learn in the following scene, form the bold, black shape of the Ace of Spades containing the words "At Seven Tomorrow Night". Now what person putting together a puzzle doesn't use the pieces with contrasting colors FIRST! 

Initially I was intrigued by the appearance of Frank McHugh and Allen Jenkins in their roles as a pair of police detectives summoned to the Drake residence. Generally, their characters are colorful enough to offer genuine comic relief, but here they're just plain annoying. McHugh's Clancy in particular winds up shouting objections to inane comments made by his partner Dugan, and both usually head in the opposite direction when real trouble might turn up.

Now here's a question - in light of the identity of the Ace killer, why would he have invited a novelist and a pair of cops that he just met, on a flight to his Louisiana plantation? Especially when at seven o'clock, all parties would be a captive audience aboard the plane when the first murder is committed. It's not Drake however who's dead, but his secretary Austin Winters (Grant Mitchell). The early suspicion falls on pilot Henderson (Cornelius Keefe) following a lights out scene, but Henderson still hasn't reported the murder to his supervisor until well after he arrives at Drake's plantation with everyone else. Can you imagine anyone trying to get away with that today, unless your name was Ted Kennedy?

With the cause of death yet to be determined, the local coroner is called in, but the first one that shows up (a Broderick accomplice) is a phony. Yet, when the real coroner shows up, he simply disappears immediately after! In a second dark out scene, a letter from the murder victim Austin Winters is about to be read. It winds up missing when the lights return, and because it may point to the murderer, it becomes a clue that must be retrieved. So where was the letter? Winters' daughter Martha grabbed it and placed in on the mantle of the living room! How much thought was put into this?

Obviously, the entire affair is so inane that Morris' character solves the case rather easily. Even though the film comes in at just about an hour, it becomes almost a chore to watch with all the nonsense going on. There's really only one humorous moment worth repeating; while aboard the plane, the detectives have this exchange: Dugan - "Hey Clancy, how often do these things fall?" Clancy - "Once!" 

Except for McHugh and Jenkins, I can't say I've seen any of the other players in films of the era, though I'm a fan of most "B" grade mystery movies from the '30's through the '50's. Fortunately, the pair fares much better backing up Humphrey Bogart in a goofy 1938 gem - "Swing Your Lady", where the laughs are intentional. The best I can offer about "Tomorrow at Seven" is a quote from Martha Winters about midway though this turkey - "This is just a silly waste of time".

Sentiment: negative