Let's Do It Again (1953)

Good start, but then it gets ruined

Best movie ever!

This is a small, humorous movie in some ways, but it has a huge heart. What a nice experience.

The acting in this movie is really good.

Despite the good cast, this is not a good film. Ray Milland overacts and is unconvincing with his dubbed singing voice. He doesn't do comedy well, neither does he do Westerns well. His fake American accent is unbearable to listen to. Jane Wyman has no rhythm when she dances and looks like a flat pancake when she sings. There is a scene where she reveals her firm thighs which looks incongruous in her slight frame. Only Tom Helmore plays a believable role.The strong points in the film include the Technicolor, production and costume designs. It is beautiful to look at, but there is no story to maintain your attention. They are just pictures of people talking.

Based on the original, The Awful Truth, this update is so completely inferior, one has to wonder what the intent was behind remaking the comedy classic. It certainly couldn't have been to improve on it. How can you improve on perfection? And it certainly was not to present better music. Irene Dunne hit the high notes better than either Wyman or the person dubbing her voice. Plus, Wyman's just too squeaky clean looking to play the vamp. She cannot sell it! Milland is a good actor, but here cannot deliver the charm of Cary Grant.A disappointing waste of time. Do yourself a favor and get the original.

"Let's Do It Again" is a 1953 loose remake of "The Awful Truth," this time starring Jane Wyman, Ray Milland, Aldo Ray and Valerie Bettis. Milland plays Gary Stuart, a songwriter who occasionally takes off, saying he's going to Chicago or wherever, when all the while he's playing with nightclub bands in town. To make him jealous, knowing full well he's lying to her, his ex-performer wife Connie (Wyman) pretends she spent the night with a friend, Courtney Craig (Tom Helmore). Husband and wife have both carried their games too far and get a divorce, though they're still in love.The comments on this site are a bit surprising regarding Wyman. People seem to forget that before Johnny Belinda, Wyman was a stunning blonde who did plenty of comedy. I never understood the brown hair and the short do, but she played the role of Connie well and did her own singing. Despite comments to the contrary, I thought she looked quite beautiful. Her clothes were nothing short of sensational in this Technicolor production. Milland does a good job as Gary. Aldo Ray looks quite handsome and is okay as Connie's wealthy suitor. Valerie Bettis is on hand to do some sexy dancing. The music in this film is bad.It's no "Awful Truth," lacking in just about every department except maybe gowns. If you forget it's a remake of that classic, you should enjoy it for what it is - light fluff.

Jane Wyman's recent passing has elicited a great flurry of comments about her strong work ethic, her humble modesty and her strict no-gossip code, all admirable qualities. But her acting legacy leaves little evidence that she was a versatile performer capable of conquering a variety of thematic realms (and her finest performance, in "Johnny Belinda", which won her an Oscar, suffered at the hands of a second-rate script). In this musicalized version of Arthur Richman's play "The Awful Truth", filmed as a straight comedy in 1937, Wyman wears a succession of shoulder-exposing, low-cut cocktail dresses and fur-lined evening wear, yet her wardrobe doesn't match her personality; Wyman's short, old-lady bob and her harried little face never give the impression she's having a good time. She gives the proverbial Jane Wyman Performance, that of a prudish woman forced by circumstance into skirting grown-up female issues. It seems her little-girl tricks of making songwriter-hubby Ray Milland jealous have turned him away, so Wyman, unconvincingly portraying a musical starlet, attempts to woo Milland back with more little-girl tricks. News of the couple's pending divorce brings other men Wyman's way, but naturally she's too uptight to do anything more than a little fancy dancing with them (but then that's understandable, once you get a load of graceless, nervous Aldo Ray on the dance floor). The picture is nothing more than a fashion show set to the type of fake-nightclub music you'd never hope to hear again, and the creaky dialogue probably shamed Arthur Richman (Wyman to her maid: "Is the champagne ready?" The maid: "Ready, willing and able!"). Sure, it's undemanding fluff not meant to be taken seriously, but in the context of Wyman's B-minus career, it is Exhibit A. * from ****