It took three screenwriters to adapt this frantic farce from Byron Ongley's and Winchell Smith's play, which originally derived from a novel by George Barr McCutcheon...so many talents, and yet no one was able to eliminate the general air of queasiness inherent to this material (the central idea being that money is nothing but a nuisance). Dennis O'Keefe shows no charisma playing an American soldier returning home from duty, about to marry his longtime sweetheart only to be notified he's been left seven millions dollars by his deceased uncle. Before he can have it, however, he has to spend one million dollars in two months' time while keeping the reasons why a secret from his friends and fiancée. Why must he go through the hell of trying to rid himself of one million bucks? To curb his appetite for spending, of course! Throwing money around thoughtlessly makes O'Keefe look like an irresponsible jerk to his loved ones--and to the audience as well. What kind of 'hero' can ordinary Brewster possibly be when money is nothing but an albatross around his neck? He invests in a losing racehorse and a flop musical, both of which turn around and become great assets to him (much to Brewster's dismay). He complains about having the Midas touch, but if this were really the case, he wouldn't need the seven million dollars. And why should we think he even deserves it? These questions go unanswered because the writers weren't aiming for the sociological quotient--they're just after innocuous laughs--and so we get scenes such as O'Keefe's concerned buddies actually paying the guy back for services already rendered. The film relentlessly follows a foolish conceit while ignoring the obvious, that people with money shouldn't throw stones. *1/2 from ****
Review of Brewster's Millions
