This is a dreadful movie, wavering between comedy and piety, with a wan attempt at romance thrown in.
William Powell was a dashing figure but he needed, and usually had, something. He needed a charming, beautiful costar. Think Myrna. Even the usually sublime Irene Dunne in the icky "Life With Father."
Here he has a young Esther Williams. She is appealing and she clearly is doing her best. But -- how cane one avoid this? She is a fish out of water.
The movie's brushes with the saint in the title are, in my opinion, as someone who is very devout, inappropriate and smarmy as used here.
William Powell was a dashing figure but he needed, and usually had, something. He needed a charming, beautiful costar. Think Myrna. Even the usually sublime Irene Dunne in the icky "Life With Father."
Here he has a young Esther Williams. She is appealing and she clearly is doing her best. But -- how cane one avoid this? She is a fish out of water.
The movie's brushes with the saint in the title are, in my opinion, as someone who is very devout, inappropriate and smarmy as used here.