This film is not an especially good Max Linder film. Much of it is because of the story. The plot is way overly complicated and the idea is just too contrived. I think keeping the story simpler would have worked better.
Max has just gotten married when he receives word that he's to inherit a fortune--provided he's NOT married. His wife hates the idea, but Max wants a divorce. He reasons that once he's gotten the money, they can remarry and live happily ever after--but she isn't quite convinced. Now you'd think they'd just get their new marriage annulled or they'd just file for a divorce but instead they plan on having Max caught in the act of committing adultery by a detective so they can divorce. But, when Max and a girlfriend are trying to get intimate, a psychiatrist and his group of ridiculously insane patients get mixed up in the situation with silly results.
The film suffers due to dopey writing. Not only does the main plot make little sense, but throwing in the psychiatrist only made things worse. His patients, even by 1917 standards, were ridiculously over the top (with one thinking he's an automobile, another thinking he's a ballerina and another running about with a butterfly net). The result is a very, very contrived film that lacks the simplicity and charm of a typical Linder film.
Max has just gotten married when he receives word that he's to inherit a fortune--provided he's NOT married. His wife hates the idea, but Max wants a divorce. He reasons that once he's gotten the money, they can remarry and live happily ever after--but she isn't quite convinced. Now you'd think they'd just get their new marriage annulled or they'd just file for a divorce but instead they plan on having Max caught in the act of committing adultery by a detective so they can divorce. But, when Max and a girlfriend are trying to get intimate, a psychiatrist and his group of ridiculously insane patients get mixed up in the situation with silly results.
The film suffers due to dopey writing. Not only does the main plot make little sense, but throwing in the psychiatrist only made things worse. His patients, even by 1917 standards, were ridiculously over the top (with one thinking he's an automobile, another thinking he's a ballerina and another running about with a butterfly net). The result is a very, very contrived film that lacks the simplicity and charm of a typical Linder film.
