Nowadays movies portray business-persons as greedy, twisted, conspiratorial individuals. In the thirties, however, they generally were seen as at least useful, if not heroic. And perhaps I'm anachronistic, but that's still the way I think things really are.
In this quasi-feminist film, the wonderful Joan Blondell seizes upon an inventor's idea for liquor flavored toothpaste. (Indeed, if you Google that term you'll find such a product actually exists today.) When her knuckle-headed father won't sell it through his company, however, she finds a way around him, and cuts a pseudonymous deal with his more foresighted rival.
Then great fun results as she, the opposition's chief salesperson, and William Gargan, her father's chief salesman, try to constantly double-cross each other on-the-job, while falling for each other off-the-job.
The picture's pace is swift, the dialog snappy, and the plot has no holes. I highly recommend it, and have only three caveats:
1. The script overlooks what I believe would have been "cocktail" toothpaste's greatest selling point—that of deniability. Neither your boss nor your spouse could ever prove you were drinking 'cause you could always claim they just smelled the toothpaste.
2. While Gargan does a fine job with his role, his part itself has Jimmy Cagney written all over it. Had Cagney been Joan's opposition, "Traveling Saleslady" probably would have been considered a classic.
3. Finally, I say quasi-feminist film because; at very end Joan, who clearly is the smartest person, and the best business mind in the picture reconciles with Gargan by telling him she wants to go to Niagra Falls and cook for him thereafter. What really should have happened, however, is this: she should have said "I want to go to Niagara Falls with you (a smiling reaction by Gargan) before taking over as your boss (a stunned Gargan promptly collapses to the floor in a faint)."
In this quasi-feminist film, the wonderful Joan Blondell seizes upon an inventor's idea for liquor flavored toothpaste. (Indeed, if you Google that term you'll find such a product actually exists today.) When her knuckle-headed father won't sell it through his company, however, she finds a way around him, and cuts a pseudonymous deal with his more foresighted rival.
Then great fun results as she, the opposition's chief salesperson, and William Gargan, her father's chief salesman, try to constantly double-cross each other on-the-job, while falling for each other off-the-job.
The picture's pace is swift, the dialog snappy, and the plot has no holes. I highly recommend it, and have only three caveats:
1. The script overlooks what I believe would have been "cocktail" toothpaste's greatest selling point—that of deniability. Neither your boss nor your spouse could ever prove you were drinking 'cause you could always claim they just smelled the toothpaste.
2. While Gargan does a fine job with his role, his part itself has Jimmy Cagney written all over it. Had Cagney been Joan's opposition, "Traveling Saleslady" probably would have been considered a classic.
3. Finally, I say quasi-feminist film because; at very end Joan, who clearly is the smartest person, and the best business mind in the picture reconciles with Gargan by telling him she wants to go to Niagra Falls and cook for him thereafter. What really should have happened, however, is this: she should have said "I want to go to Niagara Falls with you (a smiling reaction by Gargan) before taking over as your boss (a stunned Gargan promptly collapses to the floor in a faint)."