In a metamorphosis from printed page to stage to screen even somebody as lively as father is bound to lose a little briskness, but this celluloid version lacks something besides originality. "Life" can be quite gay when Clarence Day is encountered in the book, where the innuendoes and phraseology of his clever creators supplant visual aids, or in the play, where the three dimensionality of the stage draws an audience into his library. But, on the screen, it takes a few reels to get used to father, and even then you may be left wondering whether the movie is just an avaricious son cashing in on his ancestors' fame.

William Powell, off his Ry-Krisp ands criminal diet for the occasion, does quite well as the gentleman whose ideas of life are set in cement, and he is an excellent straight-man to his prodigal wife. Some of the best scenes between these two, especially those concerned with financial discussions, smack of the show which made father famous. But, since satire is not a strong point of the story, practically all enjoyment must be derived from pure humor--the humor of witty remarks and comic situations. The few celebrated bon mots which the head of the Day family utters are good in any company, but the comedy of situations, often centered about the children, is somewhat harmed by spotty acting which tempers the juvenile parts to mediocrity. Even much-raved-about Elizabeth Taylor seems to be trying too hard.

One of the best laugh-provokers of the story was respectable Mr. Day's use of ungentlemanly language on occasion, but Dame Boston, of course, shuddered down to the soles of her high-button shoes and proceeded to make the show presentable enough for her charges. This literary vacuum cleaning nullities the famous closing line in which father informs the local policeman that, "I am going to be baptized,"--a rather flatly received statement without the ensuing "Damn it."