You've never heard of any of the players in this movie except maybe Berton Churchill (the evil banker in Ford's "Stagecoach") and Billy Gilbert (the fat guy who brings the reprieve in Hawks' "His Girl Friday"). But it doesn't matter. The cast gets the job done, and it's a good job.
Richard Carle is the pompous F. Thorndyke Penfield who owns a laundry. His sassy blond daughter, Evalyn Knapp, intends to marry a canny chap who is flat broke and wants money to buy a subdivision or whatever you do with a subdivision. What is a subdivision anyway? Carle believes him to be a gold digger. He IS a gold digger. However, amor vincet omnia, and Knapp, who looks a bit like Celeste Holm, defies Dad, who cuts her off from all his money. There are a few nettlesome problems associated with having no income. She has to sell her diamond ring to bail the cad out of his hotel. She tries to sell her expensive new sports car but it is instead sold by fraud to the unwitting hero of the piece, Chick Chandler. Now, there's a name to conjure with. Chick Chandler -- just savor the syllables.
Chandler resembles Randolph Scott in his early films. He wears a constant grin and having won a thousand dollar bonus from his boss, namely F. Thorndyke Penfield, he quits the laundry delivery job and sets out to make money on his own, first buying a lot of spiffy new suits and then, again, unknowingly, buying Knapp's sports car from a stranger.
Much of the plot has to do with money and with double crossing others in order to screw them out of it, but this was 1936. (Kids, that's the time of what was called "The Great Depression.") Money was no less important then than it is now. One third of the nation was out of work in 1932. My mother had to quit school and trudge along the railroad tracks looking for pieces of coal for fuel at home. (Sob.) I admire the fast pace and the no-nonsense materialism of the characters. Billy Wilder might have directed it. When Knapp is trying to sell her sports car to "Honest Doc Adams", he heaps praise on the long, shiny convertible but tells her it's hard to sell because it's only a month old and has such low mileage. "Well, isn't that good?" No, he tells her, you don't get all the kinks worked out until you reach 10,000 miles, so he'll have to offer her less than the car is worth. That's just one instance of some clever writing, by Arthur Horman.
What follows is a general confusion of identities and motives on everybody's part, too complicated to get into. Not to worry, it ends in comedy and contentment.
Richard Carle is the pompous F. Thorndyke Penfield who owns a laundry. His sassy blond daughter, Evalyn Knapp, intends to marry a canny chap who is flat broke and wants money to buy a subdivision or whatever you do with a subdivision. What is a subdivision anyway? Carle believes him to be a gold digger. He IS a gold digger. However, amor vincet omnia, and Knapp, who looks a bit like Celeste Holm, defies Dad, who cuts her off from all his money. There are a few nettlesome problems associated with having no income. She has to sell her diamond ring to bail the cad out of his hotel. She tries to sell her expensive new sports car but it is instead sold by fraud to the unwitting hero of the piece, Chick Chandler. Now, there's a name to conjure with. Chick Chandler -- just savor the syllables.
Chandler resembles Randolph Scott in his early films. He wears a constant grin and having won a thousand dollar bonus from his boss, namely F. Thorndyke Penfield, he quits the laundry delivery job and sets out to make money on his own, first buying a lot of spiffy new suits and then, again, unknowingly, buying Knapp's sports car from a stranger.
Much of the plot has to do with money and with double crossing others in order to screw them out of it, but this was 1936. (Kids, that's the time of what was called "The Great Depression.") Money was no less important then than it is now. One third of the nation was out of work in 1932. My mother had to quit school and trudge along the railroad tracks looking for pieces of coal for fuel at home. (Sob.) I admire the fast pace and the no-nonsense materialism of the characters. Billy Wilder might have directed it. When Knapp is trying to sell her sports car to "Honest Doc Adams", he heaps praise on the long, shiny convertible but tells her it's hard to sell because it's only a month old and has such low mileage. "Well, isn't that good?" No, he tells her, you don't get all the kinks worked out until you reach 10,000 miles, so he'll have to offer her less than the car is worth. That's just one instance of some clever writing, by Arthur Horman.
What follows is a general confusion of identities and motives on everybody's part, too complicated to get into. Not to worry, it ends in comedy and contentment.