During the Great Depression, a wealthy banker throws away his wife's expensive fur coat; it lands on the head of a stenographer, leading to everyone assuming she is his mistress and has access to his millions.
A newspaper man, his ignored fiancée, and his former employee a down on his luck reporter hatch an elaborate scheme to turn a false news story into the truth, to stop a high-society woman from suing for libel.
Relations between Dr. 'Brad' Bradford and ex-wife Paula are surprisingly romantic. They divorced because Brad hated being dragged into murder mysteries, to which mystery writer Paula is addicted. But through horse trainer Mike North, Brad is embroiled in the case of a jockey who died of "heart failure" during a race. As they pursue clues, Paula pursues Brad for remarriage, and assorted hoods pursue the Bradfords. Written by
Rod Crawford <email@example.com>
"Lux Radio Theater" broadcast a 60 minute radio adaptation of the movie on June 19, 1939 with William Powell reprising his film role. See more »
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[Cabbie is told to pull over]
Hey, what's the idea? You can't hire a hack to go half a block!
Dr. Lawrence Bradford:
My man, you are mistaken. I've done it.
[He gives the cabbie a large bill]
Dr. Lawrence Bradford:
Forget the change.
[the cabbie is evidently satisfied and drives off]
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Mystery/Comedy has too many all too familiar ingredients that never quite jell...
Whatever gold is spun from this little mystery/comedy comes from the crackling performances of WILLIAM POWELL and JEAN ARTHUR (prettily photographed through gauze for her movie star close-ups). They do what they can to bolster a weak script that moves in lumbering fashion toward a climax that has all the suspects gathered together to await the revelation of the killer by debonair Powell. But by this time, none of the suspects have established any kind of identity, so the viewer can only yawn when the culprit is revealed to be one of the least visible supporting actors.
As a mystery, it fails to have any real suspense nor does it have a satisfying enough conclusion. The method of killing is so far out that it has to be the most unlikely explanation a scriptwriter ever dreamed up. As a comedy, it falls somewhere between THE THIN MAN stuff and any other screwball comedy of the thirties that featured Powell and Arthur in tailor-made roles.
However, fans of the couple will surely find their light touch with this sort of material refreshing, if not original. But somehow, it never quite jells in its attempt to be an amusing mystery caper. Nor is it original enough to dim the memory of the better scripted Powell/Loy outings.
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