"The Ex-Mrs. Bradford" is a high-spirited mystery writer played by Jean Arthur. Doctor Bradford (William Powell) divorced her because her antics kept getting them in trouble.
Now, after traveling the world, she's back, wacky as ever, trying to blackmail the doctor into marrying her again by holding unpaid alimony over his head, though her mystery novels earn more money than his surgical skills.
The good-natured banter between them continues as they become embroiled in the mystery of how jockeys can be murdered during a race without obvious marks on them.
The doctor tries keeping his whimsical ex- in the back seat for their mutual safety but the deeper they delve into the bewildering case the more danger they run, and the more bodies mount around them.
William Powell is his usual suave, disarmingly amusing self--sort of a proto-Cary Grant with a mustache. Jean Arthur is his unpredictable ex-wife. Eric Blore is the butler, just as funny but more capable than his (similar) role in Astaire-Rogers flicks. And James Gleason is--well, typically James Gleason as the friendly but honest Inspector.
It has the scent of a promising new series, made only a couple of years after "The Thin Man." But Arthur was always a more interesting actress than Loy fom "The Thin Man." Her being a professional writer in the bucks also makes her character more interesting (and potentially more insightful) than Loy's socialite. And they drink less. Of course, there's no Asta; but Blore's butler can fill that slot.
Perhaps a lack of a series is due to studio politics. Or Hollywood hack writers weren't a match for two such intelligent characters playing off each other as well as chasing crooks. But I find the dynamics between Powell's character and Arthur's far more interesting than those of "The Thin Man."
A few quibbles. I'd like to have seen more made of Mrs. Bradford's books. No copies seem to be extant. And while she's suitably pixilated to be in the arts (yet also sensible enough to be a Jean Arthur character) and a bit too much of a live-wire for a staid doctor to wear every day, too little is made of the lateral thinking she must use to produce her best-selling mysteries. And surely her fame should eclipse his so a headline about his being hurt should read, "Famous Mystery Writer's Husband" &c.
I can't give this movie the highest number of stars because of inaccuracies in the final diagnosis. Further installments in a series would no doubt have notched it up; but, alas . . .
As it is, we are left with a thoroughly fun and puzzling one-off mystery with three delightful stars (Powell, Arthur and Blore). Anyone who enjoys a screwball mystery would be well-advised not to miss this one! I just turned 60 and I've wondered this movie's been all my life.
Now, after traveling the world, she's back, wacky as ever, trying to blackmail the doctor into marrying her again by holding unpaid alimony over his head, though her mystery novels earn more money than his surgical skills.
The good-natured banter between them continues as they become embroiled in the mystery of how jockeys can be murdered during a race without obvious marks on them.
The doctor tries keeping his whimsical ex- in the back seat for their mutual safety but the deeper they delve into the bewildering case the more danger they run, and the more bodies mount around them.
William Powell is his usual suave, disarmingly amusing self--sort of a proto-Cary Grant with a mustache. Jean Arthur is his unpredictable ex-wife. Eric Blore is the butler, just as funny but more capable than his (similar) role in Astaire-Rogers flicks. And James Gleason is--well, typically James Gleason as the friendly but honest Inspector.
It has the scent of a promising new series, made only a couple of years after "The Thin Man." But Arthur was always a more interesting actress than Loy fom "The Thin Man." Her being a professional writer in the bucks also makes her character more interesting (and potentially more insightful) than Loy's socialite. And they drink less. Of course, there's no Asta; but Blore's butler can fill that slot.
Perhaps a lack of a series is due to studio politics. Or Hollywood hack writers weren't a match for two such intelligent characters playing off each other as well as chasing crooks. But I find the dynamics between Powell's character and Arthur's far more interesting than those of "The Thin Man."
A few quibbles. I'd like to have seen more made of Mrs. Bradford's books. No copies seem to be extant. And while she's suitably pixilated to be in the arts (yet also sensible enough to be a Jean Arthur character) and a bit too much of a live-wire for a staid doctor to wear every day, too little is made of the lateral thinking she must use to produce her best-selling mysteries. And surely her fame should eclipse his so a headline about his being hurt should read, "Famous Mystery Writer's Husband" &c.
I can't give this movie the highest number of stars because of inaccuracies in the final diagnosis. Further installments in a series would no doubt have notched it up; but, alas . . .
As it is, we are left with a thoroughly fun and puzzling one-off mystery with three delightful stars (Powell, Arthur and Blore). Anyone who enjoys a screwball mystery would be well-advised not to miss this one! I just turned 60 and I've wondered this movie's been all my life.