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After all the negative things I have heard said about this film, I was expecting something very...I don't know...boring, silly, empty. But I must say I was more than pleasantly surprised with it and I did enjoy it. I watched it because I just discovered Fredric March, and have watched over 30 of his films now. I must say that this film in no way provided him to display his marvelous acting skill, but still it was nice to see him do this bit of light comedy. I think the story is nice when you want to watch something that is not heavy, but lighthearted and fun with the usual 1930's "happily ever after" ending. It is something my children would enjoy.

Don't have much else to say, except if you like Fredric as much as I do, you will like this film. Too bad he only gave one kiss in this one!!

I think I liked this movie despite the rather formulaic and ridiculous plot because both Viginia Bruce and Frederic March did such a wonderful job with this romantic comedy from Hal Roach Productions.

Virginia is the grand-daughter of a very wealthy but extremely overprotective man. He won't let her go anywhere without him and sees danger around every corner. As a result, she is smothered and bored--aching to live a real life. She escapes and establishes a new identity as a regular working girl. However, reporter Frederic March finds out about the ruse and wants to exploit the woman for a buck. However, once they meet, sparks begin to fly and he is torn between riches and his new love.

You know about where the movie will end--after all, it's a formulaic romantic comedy from an era when the movies never dared stray from the expected course. However, how delicately and believably the stars follow this formula is what makes this film so worth watching. A cute and satisfying little film.

By the way, at the very end there is a cute little cameo by the silent screen star Harry Langdon as the preacher. While his best years in movies were long behind him, he did continue to do small roles in a variety of films over the years.

Broadly played and directed semi-screwball outing has charming Fredric March cast as a newspaper reporter assigned to locate a wealthy, beautiful young heiress, who has ditched her fancy surroundings for a regular life in New York City. Grounded, natural Virgina Bruce was a good choice for the rich kid, who ends up working in the department store her family owns, and Patsy Kelly is wonderfully brash as the salesgirl who unknowingly takes her in. The supporting characters are made up of wacky, genial crazies, and the actors have been encouraged to play them to the hilt, resulting in some overcooked comedy which may strike one as either funny or far too silly. There are some classic bits: the ice-skating sequence where March and Bruce end up in a game of Musical Chairs, an unbilled Marjorie Main as a plain-spoken customer in the store, and Kelly's solution to the power going out just before a fancy dinner in her apartment. The script, by Jack Jevne and Eddie Moran (from a story by Ed Sullivan!), was criticized at the time for being too close to "It Happened One Night", but it's actually far less ambitious. The plot set-up is one-half merry mix-up and the other half romantic nuttiness, and many of the lines have a punch-drunk giddiness which is very sweet. **1/2 from ****

Hounded by the press, an heiress escapes from her stifling, pampered life and takes a job in her own department store.

Produced near the tail-end of the era of screwball comedies, THERE GOES MY HEART is certainly more enjoyable in its parts than in its whole. The film's plot is very silly and much too derivative of IT HAPPENED ONE NIGHT (1934). Situations seem a bit forced and the comedy does not always flow very easily.

This unease attaches itself to the lead players. Distinguished actor Fredric March, playing a strong-willed reporter, seems rather unsteady with all the fatuous behavior about him. But at least he gets to indulge in a bit of energetic acting. Unlucky Virginia Bruce, while lovely, gets to be little more than a mannequin, her comic lines few and far between.

The film's real joviality comes from its supporting actors. Loudmouthed Patsy Kelly is wonderful as the noisy shop clerk who becomes Miss Bruce's pal--watching Patsy trying to recover her missing food in a cafeteria, or attempting to sell a vibrating belt exerciser, are comic highlights. Elderly Claude Gillingwater plays Miss Bruce's grumpy millionaire grandfather. Blustery Eugene Pallette is perfect as March's apoplectic editor.

Smaller roles are also well-cast: British Alan Mowbray as Patsy's chiropractic beau; preppy Arthur Lake as March's faithful photographer; chittering Etienne Girardot as Gillingwater's diminutive factotum; and J. Farrell MacDonald as a highly suspicious cop. Robert Armstrong--his glory days as Carl Denham, Kong's captor, half a decade behind him--is completely wasted in his tiny turn as a private detective.

Movie mavens will have no difficulty in spotting two wonderful performers making unbilled appearances: no-nonsense Marjorie Main shows up as a Butterfield's customer intent on buying a ‘fireless cooker' from Miss Bruce; and in the film's final moments look for silent screen clown Harry Langdon in a delightful cameo as a most helpful parson.

HEART is an attempt at a screwball comedy that fails for a couple of reasons: a plot that gets too entangled, to the point of incredulity, and a lead actress who may look a little like Carol Lombard, but clearly isn't. Virginia Bruce is the female in question as a runaway heiress who ends up working incognito in her grandfather's department store, clearly meant to resemble Macy's. The thin-faced Bruce is a bit too wistful for the role, unfortunately. The role really could have used Lombard -- or Thelma Todd or Irene Dunne or Katherine Hepburn or Claudette Colbert, or even one of the Bennett sisters. Frederic March is, as always, note-perfect as a cynical reporter on Bruce's trail who -- what else? -- ends up falling for her. There is a stunt-filled ice skating sequence that takes up a bit too much time, compounded by a very rushed ending that leaves major plot strings untied. The wonderful Eugene Palette is on hand as March's blustery editor, and wisecracking Patsy Kelly is in fine form as a downtrodden store clerk who takes Bruce in. This may be no BRINGING UP BABY or NOTHING SACRED or IT HAPPENED ONE NIGHT, but it is fun to watch March, Kelly and Palette in action. And it is also viewable in its historic context, surrounded as it was by several masterpieces of the genre.