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This is an MGM B movie that has to rank near the bottom of Busby Berkeley's body of work. For starters, it's not a musical. There's no music in it at all. It's a strained comedy about an aspiring historical novelist turned pulp fiction writer who is taken advantage of by a couple of shady magazine publishers. It has a decent cast that tries hard. Very very hard. Oh boy do they try hard!
John Shelton is a weak leading man. Kind of a poor man's Dennis Morgan. Think about THAT for a second. Virginia Grey is beautiful but offers little else to the proceedings. Albert Dekker (forever Dr. Cyclops to me) does his best impersonation of a fast-talking character out of any number of WB films of the 1930's. Unfortunately, best or not, it's still an impersonation and doesn't feel like it fits Dekker at all. Charles Butterworth is his sidekick and he's equally ill-fitted for his part. Donald Meek has the best role in the film. Meek was always excellent so that should come as no surprise. Reginald Owen and Alma Kruger are good in thankless parts. This is a thoroughly forgettable comedy with a surprising ending. Too bad you have to sit through the rest of it to get there.
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