There may be a laugh or two buried somewhere in this leaden comedy, but the 70-minutes are now of interest mainly to fans of noir icon Gloria Grahame. Looks like someone tried to adapt sophisticated European comedy to the popular American screen, and it might have worked with a different male lead. Unfortunately, Dutch-born Phillip Dorn makes a very good Nazi but a very poor Cary Grant. His efforts at mugging or delivering romantic dialogue are almost painful to sit through, and bring down the whole effort. Nor does it help that director (Whorf) is a first- timer with no apparent feel for the challenging material. Youngsters Thompson and Grahame do provide lively relief, but are facing what is ultimately a brick wall. And poor Mary Astor, she deserves so much better, but is now apparently on the MGM downgrade. In fact, it's hard to believe this is an MGM production, with its two or three cheap-jack sets that more resemble Monogram than the so-called Tiffany of studios. My guess is that the production was slapped together to meet eager wartime demand for escapist entertainment. This one may fall flat, but at least there's Grahame's special brand of pouty-lipped vamping.
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