If it wasn't for the professional ease DEBBIE REYNOLDS displays in almost any role she plays, BUNDLE OF JOY would rank among the most forgettable romantic comedies of all time.
And this is true, even though she's surrounded by pros like TOMMY NOONAN (as an ambitious but overly flirtatious floor-walker) and ADOLPHE MENJOU (as a man who wishes he was the grandpa of the cute baby boy). And in the middle of this mess, is a weak performance by EDDIE FISHER, clearly in need of comic timing and finesse, especially since the lines he's given to speak are slightly short of ridiculous. His department store musical number at the film's start is an embarrassment to watch, clumsily staged and performed.
Director Norman Taurog is to blame for not being able to put any life into this retread of a GINGER ROGERS/David NIVEN/CHARLES COBURN film called BACHELOR MOTHER. The story is not the only handicap. The songs are third rate, even though Fisher and Reynolds deliver them in an appropriate style. Only one of them is a remotely catchy tune called "How I Love My Pretty Baby".
Obviously this is the kind of story of mistaken identifies that someone like Norman Krasna could write in his sleep (too bad he wasn't summoned to help with the script), but it's played in such uninspired fashion by Fisher and most of the cast (including the usually reliable Adolphe Menjou, Melville Cooper and Bill Goodwin), that it falls flat in injecting any real wit or humor into the contrived situations.
Summing up: Debbie deserved better than this. Both she and Fisher appear to be completely clueless as to what a dud this really is.
And this is true, even though she's surrounded by pros like TOMMY NOONAN (as an ambitious but overly flirtatious floor-walker) and ADOLPHE MENJOU (as a man who wishes he was the grandpa of the cute baby boy). And in the middle of this mess, is a weak performance by EDDIE FISHER, clearly in need of comic timing and finesse, especially since the lines he's given to speak are slightly short of ridiculous. His department store musical number at the film's start is an embarrassment to watch, clumsily staged and performed.
Director Norman Taurog is to blame for not being able to put any life into this retread of a GINGER ROGERS/David NIVEN/CHARLES COBURN film called BACHELOR MOTHER. The story is not the only handicap. The songs are third rate, even though Fisher and Reynolds deliver them in an appropriate style. Only one of them is a remotely catchy tune called "How I Love My Pretty Baby".
Obviously this is the kind of story of mistaken identifies that someone like Norman Krasna could write in his sleep (too bad he wasn't summoned to help with the script), but it's played in such uninspired fashion by Fisher and most of the cast (including the usually reliable Adolphe Menjou, Melville Cooper and Bill Goodwin), that it falls flat in injecting any real wit or humor into the contrived situations.
Summing up: Debbie deserved better than this. Both she and Fisher appear to be completely clueless as to what a dud this really is.