Once Upon a Time (1944) - film review

Broadway producer Jerry Flynn looks as if he is about to lose his theatre when his latest three shows turn out to be massive flops.  Then, one evening, Fate appears to offer him salvation, in the form of a dancing caterpillar named Curly.  The owner of the aforementioned insect is Pinky Thompson, a young boy who has trained Curly to dance to the tune of Yes Sir, that’s my baby.  Realising that the caterpillar could make him rich, Jerry tries to work out a way of separating Curly from his attentive owner...

One of the daftest films ever to be made in Hollywood, Once Upon a Time barely passes muster as entertainment for adults and it’s not clear (from the pompous moralising) whether children were its intended audience either.   Even allowing for the extreme silliness of its premise (and you have to admit that the idea of a dancing caterpillar does stretch credibility somewhat), the film would still be hard to stomach on account of its absurd characterisation and many excruciating excursions into Schmaltzville.  Admittedly the amiable presence of Cary Grant gives the film some charm, although even his wide-eyed acting gets a little tedious after a while.  Mildly entertaining but not great.

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