Alison Kirbe of London, receives a telegram from Texas, that she has inherited a livestock ranch. It is plastered throughout the London newspapers that Alison has become a rich heiress, and... See full summary »
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Alison Kirbe of London, receives a telegram from Texas, that she has inherited a livestock ranch. It is plastered throughout the London newspapers that Alison has become a rich heiress, and is sailing to the United Slates alone to claim her inheritance. Or so she thinks. Three men, Terence Keath, Jeremy Tayler, and Jeremy's lawyer, Matthew Kinston take an interest in Alison, after reading about her in the papers. They all board the ship hoping to become involved with her, but, all for different reasons. Terence, is a gambler and wants to marry a rich women to pay his debts. Jeremy, a multi-millionaire wants a wife, and Matthew wants to protect Jeremy's fortune, for he belives Alison is actually running a scam. All aboard! Written by
Kelly
After their evening of gambling, Matthew goes to Allison's hotel room and she invites him for coffee. Just as he accepts and begins to sit down, the far shot shows her putting her empty coffee cup at his place. The next shot, which is a close shot from her right, shows her again putting the cup in front of him. See more »
What superb direction -- and please, hard as it is, believe this is the same Norman Taurog that basted more Elvis Presley turkeys than any other director. Here, Taurog is the star, slowed down only by an uneven cast and a script that creaked in a couple of places as it flexed its plot. Deborah Kerr is supreme, though, as the sentimental English poppy who is tricked up and down until she buckles on her sound, common sense English ingenuity and carries the day. And she had some carrying to do: co-star Mark Stevens is pure avoirdupois with no sense of the camera. Nice jackets, though. Peter Lawford is perfect as the rich guy with a sense of fun, flaunting his sleek biceps and slim waist in a swimming pool scene he steals with aplomb. The script is a beaut, too, but the way Taurog fills each scene with exposition and shtick is a joy to behold. The lighting is highly skilled 40s workmanship. And check the roulette scene for b/w colour play. But the scene that is all Seven Wonders of Hollywood script- writing rolled into one is the showdown in gangster Quinn's office. Unbeatable for its half a dozen plot twists inside three minutes. Believe me.
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What superb direction -- and please, hard as it is, believe this is the same Norman Taurog that basted more Elvis Presley turkeys than any other director. Here, Taurog is the star, slowed down only by an uneven cast and a script that creaked in a couple of places as it flexed its plot. Deborah Kerr is supreme, though, as the sentimental English poppy who is tricked up and down until she buckles on her sound, common sense English ingenuity and carries the day. And she had some carrying to do: co-star Mark Stevens is pure avoirdupois with no sense of the camera. Nice jackets, though. Peter Lawford is perfect as the rich guy with a sense of fun, flaunting his sleek biceps and slim waist in a swimming pool scene he steals with aplomb. The script is a beaut, too, but the way Taurog fills each scene with exposition and shtick is a joy to behold. The lighting is highly skilled 40s workmanship. And check the roulette scene for b/w colour play. But the scene that is all Seven Wonders of Hollywood script- writing rolled into one is the showdown in gangster Quinn's office. Unbeatable for its half a dozen plot twists inside three minutes. Believe me.