In this painfully drawn out bedroom farce, set in Paris, Frank Fay is miscast as the titular love object, a descendant of Don Juan, who is smitten with a young American in Paris (Laura LaPlante) but in order to win her must extricate himself from the tangled web of his long- term intrigues with a virtual harem of lovers (played by Joan Blondell, Margaret Livingston, a sadly underused Louise Brooks and others).
The set up is amusing and deftly staged by Michael Curtiz, but once the direction of the plot becomes clear it bogs down in long, boring and insultingly stupid gag sequences, one upon another, involving Fay's diagnosis with a potentially fatal illness; eventually the viewer can only long for this character's demise.
The fine lineup of female supporting players is wasted as are Charles Winninger as LaPlante's suspicious and protective father and Alan Mowbray as (what else?) the butler. Tyrrell Davis gets to wrap the whole thing up with a decadent chuckle, foreshadowing his even more unusual closing moment in "Our Betters" two years later.
Frank Fay's trademark casual banter works against him here because it only adds to the already sluggish pace.
The set up is amusing and deftly staged by Michael Curtiz, but once the direction of the plot becomes clear it bogs down in long, boring and insultingly stupid gag sequences, one upon another, involving Fay's diagnosis with a potentially fatal illness; eventually the viewer can only long for this character's demise.
The fine lineup of female supporting players is wasted as are Charles Winninger as LaPlante's suspicious and protective father and Alan Mowbray as (what else?) the butler. Tyrrell Davis gets to wrap the whole thing up with a decadent chuckle, foreshadowing his even more unusual closing moment in "Our Betters" two years later.
Frank Fay's trademark casual banter works against him here because it only adds to the already sluggish pace.