Jock Mahoney embraces the tough ladykiller detective role with a deadpan smirk, and not much in the way of complexity. Which fits a movie that despite some good plot points, devolves into an excuse for Jock to kiss the titular three blondes. At first I thought he was repeating a mistake that had been made before (I'm being intentionally vague here to avoid spoilers) but as it turned out such considerations were beyond the ambitions of Three Blondes in His Life. Don't expect Philip Marlowe and you might find it a passable flick. Where it really excels is as source material for a paper on attitudes towards women at mid-century.
Available at Internet Archive.
Available at Internet Archive.