Despite this film having one of the more amazing groups of character actors for support, this is truly an awful film. It just goes to show you that no matter what talent you have assembled, it means nothing if the writing is bad--and boy, is it BAD! Even the combined supporting talents of Frank McHugh, Allen Jenkins, Akim Tamiroff, Franklin Pangborn, Edgar Kennedy, Sterling Holloway and others couldn't help Ginger Rogers elevate this mess to even mediocrity. The bottom line is the basic plot isn't at all believable and the dialog isn't any better. Normally when I watch older films, I am able to suspend disbelief and just enjoy, but this time it was a major chore not to just turn the movie off about midway through it! Ginger plays a radio star who is portrayed as so saccharine that it's impossible to believe that the public could stand her, though according to the film she's America's Sweetheart! Well, Ginger rebels against this as well, but her answer is to hang out in nightclubs and get drunk AND have sex (it's a "Pre-Code" film, so this sort of subject was NOT taboo in 1933). It's all very broadly acted and written and is supposed to be a sort of screwball comedy--the problem is that none of it is funny. What happens next and how everyone becomes happy in the end isn't really anything I want to discuss--I just want to never see this film again. It's a good thing Ms. Rogers had the Fred Astaire films to boost her career--if it was up to drivel like this, she never would have become famous!