MGM were famed as the studio who knew how to handle stars more than any other - they're the ones who discovered Mario Lanza and Esther Williams, and could treat Spencer Tracy, Jean Harlow and William Powell properly. But they had deliberately set out to sabotage Shirley Temple's career they couldn't have done better with this film than if they'd tried.
It's a really awkward, uncomfortable movie with Shirley as a day dreaming fantasist teen. She's the daughter of a widowed man (Herbert Marshall), which is par for the course; she's got a crush on him and is kind of love with him, which is also usual, although with her being older its a bit uncomfortable; she squabbles with her housekeeper, which is less effective when dad's around and she's older, and sets off firecrackers. This prompts dad to send in a shrink, which to be honest doesn't make me like Dad (especially as he's so neglectful). The shrink is Laraine Day and Shirley gets a kind of crush on her and tries to match make.
I just found this yuck - unfunny dream sequences, a lead character who is clearly traumatised about (instead of the plucky thing of her 30s movies she's whiny, vague, and suffering severe emotional trauma which is not fun); songs are awkwardly put in; dad and her have a weird relationship as does dad and the shrink. There is some nice vaguely feminist stuff ("why can't a woman chase a man"), a very unconvincing happy ending. This movie just gave me the creeps.
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