Any film that succeeds in distracting me without putting me to sleep has to be a good thing at the moment, and the above confection is a good thing in spades! This pre-code bit of fluff directed by William Dieterle is absolutely typical of its period with no more noble purpose than to entertain.
Debonair William Powell plays a lovable rogue, living by his wits, without too much concern over the morality of his life. He and sidekick Frank McHugh are "borrowing" Parisian designs before they reach their high-class salons, photographing them, and knocking out cheap copies. When the scam is uncovered, Powell does an underhand deal with three separate fashion firms to be their spy in Paris and to send them all the latest designs. Little do they know that the drawings they are receiving are the brainchild of unemployed designer, Bette Davis, nearly unrecognizable with her platinum blonde hair and heavy make-up, but still a powerful comic presence. Things get even more complicated when Powell sees Verree Teasdale (from New Jersey) who is passing herself off as a Russian princess and who is engaged to French fashion maven Reginald Owen in full camp mode.
Add to the mix heavy-drinking businessman Hugh Herbert who has a warehouse of ostrich feathers to unload. Cue Powell's blackmailing Teasdale into fronting his fashion show, which is preceded by a fabulous Busby Berkely musical number filled with semi-nude showgirls becoming human harps and lashings of the said feathers. The fashions themselves from designer Orry-Kelly are pretty fabulous as well. And for an added bonus, the movie buff can spot uncredited appearances from Arthur Treacher, Jane Darwell, and Hobart Cavanagh. All in all I could do with watching more movies like this one.
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