This is another good comedy by Johnny Arthur that demonstrates why he never became a bigger star, even though he continued to work and work well far into the sound era. The modern film-goer, if he recognizes him, will probably know him from playing Darla's prissy-voiced father in Our Gang shorts from the mid-thirties.
In this one he plays another unlikeable rich man who, unlike, say Keaton's rich men, never learn better. He won't give his servants any time off unless they are ill, he sneaks out of his house rather than be stuck there when quarantine is imposed and he feels free to kick his valet. All this means, of course, that the audience takes great pleasure in his comeuppance when the house a friend lends to him turns out to have been occupied by fake spiritualists. The movie is well directed by Charles Lamont, but who would want to look for more movies about this star? Still, it is a good comedy on its own and worth your time, both as a comedy and an object lesson in how not to build a career.
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