MY LOVE CAME BACK

New Zealand Listener, Volume 4, Issue 99, 16 May 1941, Page 16

MY LOVE CAME BACK

(Warner Bros.)

E thing that never fails to impress me is the way any absurdly trivial misunderstanding which would be cleared up in a moment in real life can be

made the basis of a full-length movie plot. The heroine sees the hero talking to his great-aunt, mistakes her for that fast blonde bit of goods next door, and goes into a huff which lasts the rest of the picture. Or the heroine trips over a pencil, throws herself into the boss’s arms to prevent herself falling, and at that moment in walks the hero, who won’t listen to reason but walks straight out again and stays out imagining the worst until the final scene. Don’t mistake me. Such economy of plot material is a matter for wonder rather than for rancour. At least it is in the case of My Love Came Back, which depends for what story it possesses on a situation as banal and trivial as either of those I’ve outlined above. In spite of this it manages to be bright and amusing entertainment. Perhaps I was in a mood to enjoy myself, it being my wife’s birthday and she being with me: on the other hand, it was the wettest night for weeks, and there was a draught down the back of my neck. So, on the whole I think some credit is due to the cast and director of My Love Came Back for having succeeded in making such merry ado about nothing. The one novel idea in the show-and even that’s been used several times before-is the theme of classics versus swing, as exemplified by an orchestra from a highbrow musical college which peps up the old masters and is hailed as one of the new art forms of the twentieth century. A promising pupil at this college is Olivia de Havilland, a young lady of sophisticated mien but such sweet innocence of character that when an amorous old man (Charles Winninger) starts presenting her with scholarships and taking her to classical concerts she goes on thinking he’s only interested in her musical career. Nobody else does, least of all Mr. Winninger’s handsome young business ‘colleague (Jeffrey Lynn), who has the job of putting through the cheques for Miss de Havilland’s "education." This is Misunderstanding No. 1, and it is reasonable enough compared with that which arises after the first has been cleared up and Mr. Lynn has discovered to his great joy that Miss de Havilland is really as innocent as she

professes and therefore a fit object for his affections. However, Misunderstanding No. 2 is presumably necessary to keep the story going for the required length and to enable it to be called My Love Came Back.

Lo say that its not the story you tell but how you tell it that counts, is to be guilty of almost as much banality as the author of this picture, but there seems to be no other way to explain its quite fair standard of entertainment. Olivia de Havilland, of course, is always a delectable person to gaze upon, nor is she lacking in intelligence as an actress, and Charles Winninger’s brand of fussy absent-mindedness is usually good for a few laughs. There are several other bright people in the picture. I’m even getting used to Jeffrey Lynn by now, and he’s well enough cast in a role which requires nothing much more than that he should be handsome. Indeed the only person with any major ground for complaint is Beethoven, whose Violin Concerto is murdered in the final scene. to make a swingband’s holiday.