Midway through this picture, there's a scene where the two leads (James Dunn and Florence Rice) find themselves momentarily alone in their room. It's their honeymoon, and they've had nary a second to themselves the whole movie, until now. But—before they even have a chance to breathe, people start pouring into their room, one at a time and in groups, until virtually all of the characters in the movie are right there in the same bedroom. –It ought to be funny, in a kind of Marx-Brothers-state-room sort of way
.but somehow, it's just kind of flat. This whole picture is that way: full of scenes and gags that seems like they ought to be funny, but just aren't.
The plot: Dunn and Rice inherit a house and decide to move right in, sight unseen. They bring along Sam McDaniel, who is apparently Dunn's valet and chauffeur. Mysterious doings are soon afoot; it seems the house was somehow connected with a recently executed convict and there may be some money around the place.
Various characters turn up at the house to investigate, make trouble, or just hang around —a retired hangman, a police chief who writes detective thrillers, a dumb blonde and a sinister brunette, a couple of gangsters
.the usual assortment.
McDaniel, as chauffeur Harmony Jones, is the stereotypical frightened servant but somehow comes across as less dopey than any of the other characters; his wisecracks are occasionally clever. (He also advises Dunn on how to deal with married life: "Now take my wife, for instance. This morning I bawled her out for being so extravagant." What happened? Pause. "I'm giving up cigars.")
Dunn and Rice as the newlyweds bicker and flirt and do their best to generate some energy but are largely defeated by dialog and plot that are woefully short on surprises.
Certainly not the madcap laugh riot that it apparently aims to be, this picture is nevertheless mildly amusing and generally harmless enough. Call it a B picture that never rises above its budget.
