A classic example of less being more -- especially when the "less" consists mostly of Bud Abbott and Lou Costello in their prime -- Erle C. Kenton's 77-minute Who Done It? was a better night's entertainment than many a more expensive and longer-running feature from Universal. For starters, it had a perfect script, one that -- in much the same manner as the comic duo's subsequent Abbott & Costello Meet Frankenstein -- managed to embrace many of the best elements of the genre (and sub-genre) that it was parodying. In this case, those genres were movie murder mysteries and radio who-done-its -- the script by Stanley Roberts and Edmund Joseph puts together a perfect array of potential suspects and red herrings, played by such familiar character actors as Jerome Cowan, Ludwig Stossell, and Don Porter, while co-writer John Grant works the Abbott and Costello gag material for all it is worth and more, and director Kenton keeps the forward momentum running full blast, mostly letting up to give the two comics as much screen time as they and their gags needs -- he only slips up a little bit in slowing down when it's time for Louise Albritton and Patric Knowles to justify their paychecks as the requisite romantic couple; and he makes up for this with some great bits with Mary Wickes; and William Bendix turns in an amazingly funny performance as the comic foil to Lou Costello's antics. Amid such comedic joys, it's almost a shame to have seriously note Who Done It? simply as a delightful cultural artifact, as a reminder to twenty-first century audiences of precisely how immensely important radio was as a medium in the early 1940s -- movies are never even mentioned anywhere in Who Done It?, but the whole world does seem to revolve around radio for all of its characters (even those not in the business, including the two police detectives), which it did in those years; and men like Thomas Gomez's Colonel J. R. Andrews were considered among the most important in media and business in those years, on a level that no television executive of the next generation (apart from Paley and Sarnoff, who started in radio -- and for whom television was merely an extension of their established success -- and, especially in the case of Sarnoff, were the models of Andrews' character) could ever approach.