A woman tormented by the hunting death of her husband forbids her son to have anything to do with horses. But when he falls for the daughter of his father's trainer, he defies his mother by entering the Maryland Hunt.
A wooly-headed governor lifts his sad-sack state school's football team into the front rank in order to boost his sagging senatorial campaign.
The movie bears more than a passing resemblance to 1936's Pigskin Parade, a much better movie. How you respond to this particular parody likely depends on Barrymore's wacko performance. I'm a minority, but I found his relentless eye-rolling spastic moves off-putting rather than funny. I thought great actors calibrated their performances. Here, his turn as the governor is anything but calibrated. It's like he doesn't want to steal every scene; instead, he wants to stomp on it. Too bad, because the antics detract from Joan Davis's genuinely humorous brand of comedy and Murphy's likable if sober-sided coach. In fact, I thought the highpoint of the cinematic stew-pot was Murphy's charming little soft-shoe shuffle near the beginning. Anyway, in my book, the film's for hardcore Barrymore fans only.
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