It culminates in a high-speed chase in a motorized soapbox cart, but the whole film zooms along so speedily, it clocks in at just 70 minutes - seesawing merrily between chaos and common sense. When pro golfer Ray Milland, fresh off a European tour, brings home a French bride (Olympe Bradna), his plans to introduce her to his family are forestalled by their impending financial ruin; while they implore him to marry his rich ex-girlfriend, Bradna finds herself mistaken for the new maid. The bare bones of the plot (adapted from Jacques Deval's play 'Soubrette') sound tedious, but director Andrew L. Stone's execution is not. His anarchic spirit occasionally calls to mind Paramount Pre-Code classics like 'Million Dollar Legs' and 'Monkey Business'; good lines and clever bits fly by so fast that you're still catching them the second and third times through. The extensive location shooting means that every scene feels populated, whether Milland is in Central Park fending off his faux fiancée's advances, or at the Rainbow Room watching her down a platter of shot drinks in response to news of his marriage. No one is allowed to scheme or shame themselves without hordes of onlookers; the screen is filled with bit players whose faces and reactions register. The film is unusually explicit (Milland sleeps with his new bride in her quarters, in a single bed), and the lovers are uncommonly practical, coming clean about their secret marriage whenever they feel it would be absurd to continue the charade. But their candor only contributes to the confusion. Milland - in only his second top-billed role - earns his star status; his energy seems boundless, his commitment unquestioning. (He's a particular marvel making a lengthy exit from a restaurant with an unconscious lady slung over his shoulder.)
Review of Say It in French
