Weak musical suffering from the near-fatal perkiness of Day and Triola and the terminal cuddliness of Sakall. De Wolfe is good, and Nelson is okay when he dances, but the memorable thing about this movie is the doomed Gladys George in the small role of--what else?--a boozy actress on the skids. No one else played these roles with such self-awareness and intelligence and without even a hint of self-pity. She would be dead in three years of a busted liver, but a little of her magic is here.