Joan Blondell is a rather hard actress to decipher. I find her amusing and infuriating in equal measures, and here she continues to display all the traits that make her a complete pain to watch. She definitely didn't have the beauty of Jean Harlow, or the wit of Carole Lombard, and it seems strange that she was so popular. But that is a personal opinion. Dick Powell was also rather popular during the early 30s, and I honestly can't see the appeal. His talent was being flashy and brusque which fit rather well in the Busby Berkley-esque style of this film, that and the quite frankly garish musical numbers, which include Blondell screeching along to 'Then Girl at the Ironing Board', and Powell imploring Ruby Keeler to 'Try to see it My Way.' This is no 'Fred and Ginger' production, neither in style, nor in actor nor in song. Apart from the odd scene, overall this doesn't feature highly on my list of likeable films.
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