Having enjoyed Jean Arthur in "The Devil and Miss Jones", my interest was peaked, so I tried sitting through this second-string screwball outing about an investigation into the death of a jockey--but I didn't make it to the end. Arthur, photographed in a gauzy, movie-magazine fashion, either wants alimony from ex-husband William Powell or another shot at marriage, but I never felt for her because the character is just a string of wisecracks (she's the type of heroine prone to comical curiousness, but once inside a morgue--like all women in these '30's comedies--she faints). William Powell reportedly had a high time working with Miss Arthur, but you'd never know it from the end result; they look awkward standing next to each other, hesitant over their banter. The actor playing Powell's valet is excruciating, and the pauses for viewer laughs are pregnant with unease.