Silly concoction is a minor work for all involved. Ingrid, in her last foreign film before her Rossolini fueled exile from Hollywood ended with her triumphant return in Anastastia, is charming and her dresses are incredibly beautiful. But the settings have a sense of falseness to them, even wealthy people's homes look like someone lives there, these are obvious sets. Even the outdoor scenes have a claustrophobic feeling of being stage-bound. Renoir doesn't seem comfortable with the material or perhaps he didn't believe in it, either way it's missing a light touch that would have turned the film into a charming soufflé instead of the flat farce that it is. Mildly amusing but almost completely forgettable.