She Wrote the Book

The initial premise of this film reminded me of "Nothing Sacred" (1937), with the innocent girl from the sticks, or in this case from a Midwestern college town, coming to Manhattan under false pretenses, where there's a cynical publicity machine waiting to exploit her.

I've always been fond of Joan Davis. Growing up, if I'd had to choose between "I Love Lucy" and "I Married Joan," I'd have picked the latter -- even though now, after seven decades, that show evokes mainly nostalgia.

So for me, the most interesting thing about this film is that Davis, known for being a physical clown, was more appealing, and actually quite attractive, when she was playing it relatively straight -- as she does here in the role of a prim, no-nonsense mathematics professor. And later, temporarily transformed by that creaky plot device, amnesia, into the author of a risqué bestseller, she's still in what was, for her, an unusual role. I suspect she enjoyed making this film because it gave her the chance to play someone who's adult and intelligent, and also someone sexy and glamorous. Presumably the final party scene was designed to give audiences the wilder Joan Davis they'd paid to see, allowing her to really let loose; but personally I was glad when it was over.

All this film's supporting players are perfect. I was surprised to see what low billing Gloria Stuart received, in a role that was small but key. And surprised, too, that the movie's romantic lead, Kirby Grant, went on to play TV's flying cowboy, Sky King.