The New Pictures, Sep. 20, 1943

(2 of 3)

Here the difference between East & West first becomes seriously apparent to Jean Arthur. Whitmanesque Mr. Wayne, who loves nothing half so much as his freedom and his horse, is of the delicate opinion that "women are like socks; ya gotta change 'em often." Miss Arthur, who has marriage in her eye, is sure that "any fella that can love a horse can love a girl." Charles Winninger, Wayne's elderly sidekick, tries to warn her that she is "barking up the wrong cowboy." It turns out that he is wrong.

The rather frank realism which goes on just behind the eyes and the lines of this eager young couple is abetted by some excellent rawboned Western street scenes and by some unusually vivid uses of sound (coyotes, snores, a neighing horse) and camera (scrambled focus for excitement and intoxication) to startle and amuse. John Wayne manages, more toughly if less charmingly than Gary Cooper in his early days, to create a sort of Rocky Mountain Jean Gabin. Jean Arthur, who has the brunt of the comedy to handle, is one of the most attractive handlers in the business, but undermines some of her funniest work by a growing tendency to put the horseplay before the part.

Mr. Lucky (RKO-Radio) is a gambler (Mr. Cary Grant) who dodges the draft and helps out with war relief in the shameless course of melting down an ice-cube heiress (Laraine Day) into giving him a gambling concession at a relief ball. Lucky's war-relief plan is simple: to cheat Manhattan's social heavy cream out of its white ties and rhinestones. But as time wears on, Gambler Grant, who is of Greek extraction, develops a tender conscience as a result of the courage of his compatriots and his love for eager Heiress Day. So he heroically double-crosses his pals, recovers from a consequent slug in the midriff and renders himself worthy of Cinemactress Day by joining the Merchant Marine.

As comedy, Mr. Lucky is the successful sum of timeless Hollywood formulas and two new ones. The old twists:

> A husky man inan apron (Mr. Grant) is always good for a laugh. When he is surrounded by knitting matrons who gravely inform him that purl is spelt pee-yew, the appeal is irresistible.

> Equally irresistible is the mugg in high society ("Bang-bang, fella," says Mr. Grant to the shocked butler who discovers his revolver) and the untamed male who submits to the implacable housekeeping of a respectable woman.

The new twists:

> A new brand of double talk (sample: "Lady from Bristol" for "pistol") which if it catches on, should make the high-school element more unintelligible than ever.

> The discovery that it is possible to say right out what nearly every man secretly feels about the discomforts of the draft—provided the sentiments are put in the mouths of obvious blackguards (Mr. Lucky and pals). Some of the comments on the draft in this picture are so frank that a loud giggle from cinemaudiences greets the appearance of a frowning Uncle Sam on a recruiting poster.