
All the ingredients are there: snappy dialogue, a roguish Fred pursuing an aloof Ginger (who thinks he's someone else), the marvelous supporting cast: the rattled Edward Everett Horton, the permanently flustered Eric Blore, the outrageous "Italian" Eric Rhodes ("I am no man. I am Bedini!"), the deprecating humor of Helen Broderick --combine all that with words and music by Irving Berlin and the amazing sets by Van Nest Polglase---and you have a real gem of a film. . . when the only special effect was talent.
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