This weirdly inept attempt at screwball comedy is undone by the casting of its three leads. Edmond O'Brien -- best remembered today as the desperate poisoning victim in the 1950 cult classic "D.O.A." and the alcoholic senator in "Seven Days In May" (1964) -- and Ruth Warrick -- known primarily for playing Charles Foster Kane's first wife in "Citizen Kane" and a long run on a TV soap opera -- were never known as adept farceurs. And moppet actress Joan Carroll has the kind of physical and verbal precocity that makes the audience wonder if perhaps she might not be a midget (OK, "little person," if we have not yet appropriately repudiated the silliness of political correctness). And she's a little person with a distracting tendency to let her mouth hang open in closeup reaction shots, at that.
The script -- rewritten (over Frank Ryan) by Bert Granet, suggesting that a certain paucity of talent may have been what redirected him to demi-success as a TV producer in the '50s and '60s -- is littered with what are presumably meant to be running gags, but bespeak a lack of understanding that to merit that classification, the shtik must be funny, not merely repetitive. These "runners" include the bizarre notion of a train's sound mimicking the name of a famous baseball player of the period, Heinie Manusch, and every passenger on the train getting the name stuck in their head, treating us to tedious extended sequences of extras chanting the name over and over again in syncopation with the chugging of the locomotive. There is also Carroll's character, Bridget, who repeatedly demands, for no apparent reason, "What's wrong with the name Bridget?"
This farrago of badly-executed ideas is ultimately ill-served by the direction of B movie hack Richard Wallace, whose coverage is so inadequate that the cutter is repeatedly forced to go from masters to two-shots in which actors' positions and expressions change radically, making startling jump cuts out of what should be seamless transitions. Wallace even manages to undermine the usually-redoubtable Eve Arden, evidently sabotaging her trademark talent for wringing laughs from the lamest one-liners by underplaying. It almost looks like Wallace coaxed her to overact. It's painful to watch...not unlike the film as a whole.
