Another in the long line of extremely pleasurable comedies starring Jean Arthur--no one can make fluttery bewilderment more enchanting, and there's plenty to be bewildered about in this heavenly screwball farce. Arthur is poor, honest, hardworking Mary Smith, whose life is changed when a sable coat thrown out of a window lands on her head. She tries to return it, but the man who threw it, rich banker J.P. Ball (Edward Arnold), in a fit of pique at his wife's extravagance, insists she keep it, and even buys her a matching hat in a nearby store. The store's employees, assuming she's a fancy kept woman (the idea!) spread the word around town, and soon everyone in sight wants to be her best pal, not least of all Arnold's son (Ray Milland), who is trying to make his way in the world without his father's backing. Although scenes such as Arthur's dismissal from her job (for "ethical violations") have become dated (without losing their humor), the portrait of an entire city eagerly sucking up to a (supposed) rich man's consort in hopes something will rub off on them couldn't be more timely. The movie has some of the best choreographed pratfalls in the genre, not least of all in the celebrated Automat sequence, when the windows accidentally open and everyone scrambles for the free food. (It's slapstick Marxism). And Arthur's pleased yet skeptical reaction to the enormous hotel suite she's offered (it looks like it belongs in the Emerald City of Oz) is just right; she looks at the lily-shaped tub, which is crowned by a statue of a shrugging goddess, and comments, "Look at her standing there with her arms sticking out; I guess she doesn't know either.") The only wrong note (for me), is the performance of Luis Alberini as the hotel owner; his brand of dialect humor gets tiresome--I'd just as soon it was left in the thirties for good.
