Playing a struggling single working gal in New York City, Betsy Drake is supposed to be charming as she constantly breaks pencils, gets her blouse-bib caught in a typewriter, and sends shelves crashing down out of sheer clumsiness. Not only is she a klutz, but she's stubborn and indignant about her own lack of skills. This is the type of inefficient heroine viewers might want to escape from. Drake will forever be remembered as one of the former Mrs. Cary Grants, and for good reason: she shows no charisma as a leading lady. The picture--a wafer-thin concoction which must have embarrassed Warner Bros.--is yet another Cinderella story, filled with deceptions and a mush-hearted benefactor (Edmund Gwenn, still working "34th Street"). The screenplay is so trite and simple-minded it borders on the offensive--but, it's such a silly piece of fluff you can't get angry at it. It's easily forgotten. *1/2 from ****
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