If all the jokes about the OPA were to be compiled and indexed, say by the Office of Facts and Figures, the resultant volume would no doubt outclass the Joe Miller anthology in size, if not in quality. In such a project the researchers could save a lot of effort by consulting Metro's latest Wallace Beery comedy, "Rationing." It should not be too surprising that the Globe's week-end arrival is no side-splitter, for, after all, there have been all too few really humorous sayings among the countless quips inspired by price ceilings, points, tokens, etc.
As a small-town butcher and general-store keeper Mr. Beery gets properly confused and exasperated when his icebox is empty and the rationing board, apparently unaware of the paper shortage, swamps him with application blanks and report forms. Of course, his lot is doubly troublesome, for Marjorie Main is the ration administrator, and she also has a personal 1-A priority on the hapless Mr. Beery as a matrimonial prospect. As long as the writers stick to retelling old OPA jokes, things are not too bad, for Mr. Beery can bring into play all of his elephantine grousings in a way that almost makes one forgive, if not forget, the staleness of the script.
But somebody had to spoil the fun by dragging in the black market and then having the garrulous Mr. B. smash it single-handedly in one of the most fantastic slugfests that have been put on the screen since 'way back when William Farnum and Milton Sills had it out in "The Spoilers." This one-man blitzkrieg should, however, endear Mr. Beery anew to the small-fry. As you probably have gathered by now, "Rationing" is Mr. Beery's picture—nobody else could get away with the things he is called upon to do and still hold an audience. Marjorie Main gives a good performance as usual, while young love is conventionally represented by Dorothy Morris and Tommy Batten.
As a small-town butcher and general-store keeper Mr. Beery gets properly confused and exasperated when his icebox is empty and the rationing board, apparently unaware of the paper shortage, swamps him with application blanks and report forms. Of course, his lot is doubly troublesome, for Marjorie Main is the ration administrator, and she also has a personal 1-A priority on the hapless Mr. Beery as a matrimonial prospect. As long as the writers stick to retelling old OPA jokes, things are not too bad, for Mr. Beery can bring into play all of his elephantine grousings in a way that almost makes one forgive, if not forget, the staleness of the script.
But somebody had to spoil the fun by dragging in the black market and then having the garrulous Mr. B. smash it single-handedly in one of the most fantastic slugfests that have been put on the screen since 'way back when William Farnum and Milton Sills had it out in "The Spoilers." This one-man blitzkrieg should, however, endear Mr. Beery anew to the small-fry. As you probably have gathered by now, "Rationing" is Mr. Beery's picture—nobody else could get away with the things he is called upon to do and still hold an audience. Marjorie Main gives a good performance as usual, while young love is conventionally represented by Dorothy Morris and Tommy Batten.