A lowly hatcheck girl at the Stork Club saves a wealthy old guy from drowning. Grateful, he sets up big expense accounts for her, anonymously. As a result, she can only guess at her benefactor, which she and her jealous boyfriend usually get really wrong. And if that's not enough, she and her boyfriend are trying to make it in musical show business.
It's like the production is trying to crowd in too much plot and the parts fail to blend into a satisfying whole. That leaves us with a few stellar parts (the amusing expense accounts stampede) amid too much meandering talk and plot shenanigans. Hutton generally lights up the screen, especially with her scintillating "Doctor, Lawyer " But her numbers are few and far between. Meanwhile, Fitzgerald was a star and so gets a lot of screen time as the sly old Croesus, who follows Judy (Hutton) around giving advice. Unfortunately, for we curious provincials, there's not enough of the Stork Club or its sophisticates despite the title. There is, however, an edifying look at styles and hip lingo, circa 1945. Then too, I'm guessing that the notoriously sassy Iris Adrian had to tone down her usual act so as not to interfere with Hutton.
Add too much dawdling direction from Hal Walker, an underused Robert Benchley (Curtis), plus an oddly wooden Don DeFore (Danny) conducting his band with all the verve of a sleepwalker, and the overall result is a disappointing 100-minutes. For sure, it's not the best showcase for fans of that human dynamo, Betty Hutton.
It's like the production is trying to crowd in too much plot and the parts fail to blend into a satisfying whole. That leaves us with a few stellar parts (the amusing expense accounts stampede) amid too much meandering talk and plot shenanigans. Hutton generally lights up the screen, especially with her scintillating "Doctor, Lawyer " But her numbers are few and far between. Meanwhile, Fitzgerald was a star and so gets a lot of screen time as the sly old Croesus, who follows Judy (Hutton) around giving advice. Unfortunately, for we curious provincials, there's not enough of the Stork Club or its sophisticates despite the title. There is, however, an edifying look at styles and hip lingo, circa 1945. Then too, I'm guessing that the notoriously sassy Iris Adrian had to tone down her usual act so as not to interfere with Hutton.
Add too much dawdling direction from Hal Walker, an underused Robert Benchley (Curtis), plus an oddly wooden Don DeFore (Danny) conducting his band with all the verve of a sleepwalker, and the overall result is a disappointing 100-minutes. For sure, it's not the best showcase for fans of that human dynamo, Betty Hutton.