A Smith called Pete takes a look at what lifeguards do on their time off, as they paddle their surfboards away from the California coast and its penguins, to dive in a tank for abalone and other delicacies from underseas caves.
If that doesn't make much sense to you, well, it doesn't make much to me, either. It's more a statement of what the moviemakers thought their audiences thought in those innocent pre-war days, where moray eels, rocks, basking sharks, and octopuses were threatening enough to cause dramatic music to rise, and Smith to abandon his patented corny snark for a few moments. He doesn't even see fit to comment about the surfboarding dog.
Not one of the better Pete Smith Specialties is, I guess, what I'm saying.
If that doesn't make much sense to you, well, it doesn't make much to me, either. It's more a statement of what the moviemakers thought their audiences thought in those innocent pre-war days, where moray eels, rocks, basking sharks, and octopuses were threatening enough to cause dramatic music to rise, and Smith to abandon his patented corny snark for a few moments. He doesn't even see fit to comment about the surfboarding dog.
Not one of the better Pete Smith Specialties is, I guess, what I'm saying.