Well, I had seen No More Ladies (1935), but like many a movie, had no memory of it. So I remedied that, which I mildly regret.
Joan Crawford gets married to Robert Montgomery. He's a Production-Code-compliant womanizer, and she soon comes to regret it, in part because she remains in love with him and because, as she explains to grandmother Edna May Oliver, being a wife means something to her.
It's one of those movies that, had it been made five years earlier, would have examined what being a wife means to a modern woman. This being 1935, however, these matters are all certainties, and Montgomery's philandering consists solely of drinking in a bar and talking. The audience must infer the rest.
That sort of inference is what screwball comedy hung its hat on, and this looks like MGM thought they were doing screwball, except the lines aren't terribly funny, nor the actors, with the exception of Arthur Treacher, as an English lord who begins as incomprehensible until he falls under the influence of American comic strips. Director Edward Griffith has a cast of expert farceurs, including Miss Oliver, Treacher, Charlies Ruggles, and Reginald Denny, all of whom perform their roles well. Have you ever watched Miss Oliver and noted how gracefully she moves? This is the movie for that.
In short, this is a well produced, well performed movie that is about nothing except what the briefest of descriptions might turn it. I anticipate I shall forget it again in short order.
Joan Crawford gets married to Robert Montgomery. He's a Production-Code-compliant womanizer, and she soon comes to regret it, in part because she remains in love with him and because, as she explains to grandmother Edna May Oliver, being a wife means something to her.
It's one of those movies that, had it been made five years earlier, would have examined what being a wife means to a modern woman. This being 1935, however, these matters are all certainties, and Montgomery's philandering consists solely of drinking in a bar and talking. The audience must infer the rest.
That sort of inference is what screwball comedy hung its hat on, and this looks like MGM thought they were doing screwball, except the lines aren't terribly funny, nor the actors, with the exception of Arthur Treacher, as an English lord who begins as incomprehensible until he falls under the influence of American comic strips. Director Edward Griffith has a cast of expert farceurs, including Miss Oliver, Treacher, Charlies Ruggles, and Reginald Denny, all of whom perform their roles well. Have you ever watched Miss Oliver and noted how gracefully she moves? This is the movie for that.
In short, this is a well produced, well performed movie that is about nothing except what the briefest of descriptions might turn it. I anticipate I shall forget it again in short order.