Train de luxe

Why this loud talky mess gets top ratings from professionals stumps me (TMC, Maltin, et al.). The only thing I can figure is they're overly impressed by pedigree—namely Hawks, Lombard, Barrymore, and the writing team of Hecht and MacArthur. But once you get past the legendary reputations, the results are more annoying than impressive. It seems someone confused frenetic with amusing, while the arm waving babble is simply non-stop. It's like everyone will laugh if you just say it loud enough with enough spastic energy.

Barrymore, in particular acts like he's heck-bent on climbing the walls. But the lines aren't funny, and neither are the situations—reputations or no. Maybe the screenplay is aimed at show-biz types who will catch on to esoteric inside jokes. Some such is the only explanation I can think of. Hawks, fortunately, appears to have learned his lesson. His Binging Up Baby (1938) amounts to a masterpiece of madcap. It's everything this indulgent mess isn't, but should be. There appears to be a moral to this movie, but whatever it is, it's not a good one.