Typically lackluster affair from director Robert Z Leonard (pretty sure, if personalized license plates had been available in 1936, that "ho-hum" woulda graced the back of Pops' Hudson). As long as scenarist Charles Brackett does a decent job of channelling P. G. Wodehouse then this thing is intermittently amusing and very intermittently charming, especially Robert Montgomery who shows that, as fine a dramatic actor as he was, he was no slouch at light comedy. But as soon as visual laughs are called for, be it Montgomery riding a Shakespearian nag or suffering the indignity of a broken down auto, then one quickly bumps into Leonard's limitations as a screwball meister. And boy does Frank Morgan's bumbling roue schtick get old! Solid C.
Review of Piccadilly Jim
