A potentially interesting piece of satire -- Jack Haley can predict precisely the consuming habits of the nation, so Adolphe Menjou in fast-talking mode and Jack Oakie use him as a guinea pig -- gets turned into a rather silly and pointless farce. I never did care for Mr. Haley and the Milquetoast persona he displayed in his starring roles. You may enjoy him, but I always want to smack him around.
The rest of it is surprisingly in the mode of the the bright, overlit Technicolor musicals that Fox turned out in the 1940s, except there's no Betty Grable, no Alice Faye, no John Payne and the cinematography is some handsome black and white work by Lucien Andriot. Tony Martin sings three or four forgettable songs. George Barbier is the father of the ingénue and Binnie Barnes essays a tough-talking Noo Yawk accent with varying success. Except for Menjou, you can skip this one.
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