That old crowd pleaser, May Robson, repeats an often played part-the rich old crone who hates people, thrust into a situation where she has no other choice but to have to deal with them. Once again, she's cast as the richest woman in the world, so darkened by life that she covers her entire face in a black veil so she can pull the curtain down on the world around her. Having never married, but having loved the same man (now deceased) all her life, she is embittered by her own failings, disgusted by greedy relatives and hanger on employees (lawyers, financial wizards, a companion who hates walking Robson's beloved dog), she tosses hundreds of men out of work on a construction site just so her dog can have a park to run around in.
This also makes her the most hated woman in New York, even more so than Hetty Green, the "Witch of Wall Street" (a character that Robson played in a fictionalized version of, "You Can't Buy Everything"), and when out in her carriage, she is injured when tossed out after a car speeds into it. Fortunately for her, some kindly poor young boys (lead by the lame Bill Burrud) take her in, tend to her wounds, and offer her a place to hide in after she learns that her family wants to institutionalize her. But a kidnapping scheme lead by organized crime boss Henry Kolker threatens not only her but the surrogate family that she has suddenly found, leaving one of them (Frankie Darro) fighting for his life after he is shot in cold blood.
As fantastic as she is, May Robson tended to bark a good portion of her dialog throughout her career, but here it worked since she is more of a dog person than a people person. It is obvious that as soon as she wakes up to the compassion of the ultra sweet Burrud that she will come to love him, also offering romantic advice to Frankie Darro and his longtime girlfriend Charlotte Henry while barking how she hates sentiment. But while barking about that, she reflects on her own lost love whom she has carried in her heart for decades, and at that point, Robson has carried herself into your heart.
Once she is really kidnapped thanks to organized crime infiltration, the film switches to a more serious mood with Darro shot while trying to alert the police and his friends believing that he has died in the police effort to fool the gangsters. A dramatic conclusion has Robson stuck in a speeding car's trunk (being riddled with police bullets), and it becomes a nail biting situation. There's comic relief provided by Henry Armetta as the stereotypical loud but big hearted Italian immigrant and Herman Bing crucifying every English word he speaks with his ultra thick German accent. There's also the eternally ageless Billy Benedict as the third orphaned boy, given the gimmick of creating havoc by recklessly trying to explain the situation going on to authority figures and getting the gang into more trouble unintentionally.
While this is predictable and formulaic, it is also big hearted and touching and glossy, showing that sentiment can work when presented with an excellent cast and written in a way that grabs the audience's hearts from the start. It also deals with the issue of elder abuse, expresses a desire to erase a generation gap (Robson relates to the children more than the adults around her), and utilizes the popular gangster genre in exploring its theme. Robson is simply a delight, a forgotten reminder that during the golden age of Hollywood, the studios didn't just focus on the young and beautiful, but the old and decrepit, making this a sleeper of a comedy that deserves to be re-discovered even if to show the talents of one of Hollywood's most legendary character actresses who was once known as the world's grandma.
This also makes her the most hated woman in New York, even more so than Hetty Green, the "Witch of Wall Street" (a character that Robson played in a fictionalized version of, "You Can't Buy Everything"), and when out in her carriage, she is injured when tossed out after a car speeds into it. Fortunately for her, some kindly poor young boys (lead by the lame Bill Burrud) take her in, tend to her wounds, and offer her a place to hide in after she learns that her family wants to institutionalize her. But a kidnapping scheme lead by organized crime boss Henry Kolker threatens not only her but the surrogate family that she has suddenly found, leaving one of them (Frankie Darro) fighting for his life after he is shot in cold blood.
As fantastic as she is, May Robson tended to bark a good portion of her dialog throughout her career, but here it worked since she is more of a dog person than a people person. It is obvious that as soon as she wakes up to the compassion of the ultra sweet Burrud that she will come to love him, also offering romantic advice to Frankie Darro and his longtime girlfriend Charlotte Henry while barking how she hates sentiment. But while barking about that, she reflects on her own lost love whom she has carried in her heart for decades, and at that point, Robson has carried herself into your heart.
Once she is really kidnapped thanks to organized crime infiltration, the film switches to a more serious mood with Darro shot while trying to alert the police and his friends believing that he has died in the police effort to fool the gangsters. A dramatic conclusion has Robson stuck in a speeding car's trunk (being riddled with police bullets), and it becomes a nail biting situation. There's comic relief provided by Henry Armetta as the stereotypical loud but big hearted Italian immigrant and Herman Bing crucifying every English word he speaks with his ultra thick German accent. There's also the eternally ageless Billy Benedict as the third orphaned boy, given the gimmick of creating havoc by recklessly trying to explain the situation going on to authority figures and getting the gang into more trouble unintentionally.
While this is predictable and formulaic, it is also big hearted and touching and glossy, showing that sentiment can work when presented with an excellent cast and written in a way that grabs the audience's hearts from the start. It also deals with the issue of elder abuse, expresses a desire to erase a generation gap (Robson relates to the children more than the adults around her), and utilizes the popular gangster genre in exploring its theme. Robson is simply a delight, a forgotten reminder that during the golden age of Hollywood, the studios didn't just focus on the young and beautiful, but the old and decrepit, making this a sleeper of a comedy that deserves to be re-discovered even if to show the talents of one of Hollywood's most legendary character actresses who was once known as the world's grandma.
