The perils of parenthood are explored in this rather dull Harold Lloyd vehicle. If you've watched more than a couple of Lloyd's films from this era then you won't need me to tell you who is playing the part of his wife. The film opens with them wheeling a pram down a typical suburban neighbourhood, only this pram doesn't contain a baby, as the horrified expression on the face of a passing priest makes all too clear, but a bottle of illicit booze.
Before long a plot twist sees the formerly carefree couple temporarily burdened with a couple of tots, one who cries incessantly, the other a destructive little boy who likes nothing more than sawing through the legs of furniture or nailing Harold's slippers to the floor. Given the rich vein of material available in such a scenario, it's surprising just how routine the whole thing is. Like most popular comedians of the era, Lloyd's contract called for him to complete a given number of films within a specified period of time, and it's likely that this was one of the films that was made purely to ensure that quota was filled rather than because of any burning desire on the part of Lloyd to get it made.
Before long a plot twist sees the formerly carefree couple temporarily burdened with a couple of tots, one who cries incessantly, the other a destructive little boy who likes nothing more than sawing through the legs of furniture or nailing Harold's slippers to the floor. Given the rich vein of material available in such a scenario, it's surprising just how routine the whole thing is. Like most popular comedians of the era, Lloyd's contract called for him to complete a given number of films within a specified period of time, and it's likely that this was one of the films that was made purely to ensure that quota was filled rather than because of any burning desire on the part of Lloyd to get it made.