This is another one of those hills which do little more than fill up an empty evening, and it had better be awfully empty before you decide to plunk down your dough.

"Heaven Can Wait" begins promisingly with a weirdly effective modernistic setting of the lower world, with a really handsome devil of a devil. But then, just as the billboards warned, Don Ameche enters, cleverly disguised as an old man, but we knew him anyhow. From there on, the picture is one long series of flashbacks of our fallen hero's naughty, naughty affairs with Women.

Gene Tierney is wonderful. She doesn't sing, she doesn't dance, she doesn't even act--she merely parades around displaying her God-given equipment. She does get old eventually, in keeping with the so-called plot, but, by a stroke of Holly woodian genius, her senility is strictly limited to the area above the neck.

The second half of the bill is a little gem involving an American flier (male), a Russian officer (female), love (obviously), assorted spies, Gestapo agents, and platitudes, all seasoned with a dash of international good-will. It was hard to get down and harder to keep down.