I would sorely miss not having this Technicolor record of what the old Goldwyn studios and the Santa Monica beach looked like in their heyday. Plus a wonderful cultural record of Jepson's singing (if only Goldwyn had gotten Pinza doing a scene from "Don Giovanni" as well), Zorina's dancing, Balanchine's choreography, and two of Gershwin's finest songs (despite some viewer's comment that "Love Walked In" is insipid, it has always been my personal favorite).
Add to this wonderful sets and costumes, masterfully photographed by Toland (in one of his few efforts in color), and you have a movie that while being a failure as a work of art, is immensely worth seeing as a record of the times.
That said, I wish Kenny Baker had been as good a singer and as personable on screen as Dick Powell, that the dippy story had been jettisoned in favor of a better one (how could Ben Hecht have been a party to this?), and, despite the fact that they were cultural icons (of a sort), that the Ritz Brothers screen time had been in another movie. (Yes, I know there are those who think they're the best thing in the movie, but some people like Martin and Lewis, too).