This will undoubtedly be a complicated film for modern audiences to enjoy for the view it seems to take regarding domestic abuse: sometimes a woman is so frustrating that she deserves a hit. While I do think that there is a way to express this view in both a humorous manner and in a way that doesn’t condone the activity (see: Noel Coward’s Private Lives, which paints the characters as mutually destructive), Smarty suffers from not being funny enough to pull it off. It’s no Noel Coward! But the biggest problem is that the film tries too hard to paint Joan Blondell as the obnoxious, antagonistic anti-heroine, all the while keeping her true romantic sensibilities relatable and root-wrothy.  This is impossible, for not only is the script inferior, but Blondell is too likable — and her persona is WAY too self-aware — to be believable as the shrew that this film needs her to be. And it’s not that the actress doesn’t commit to the part, because she does so with apparent glee, but that Blondell is simply wrong for the role. She’s too smart, too tough, and too fun.

The rest of the cast is talented, but William’s character, despite the slap, is portrayed as a goody-goody, but without the necessary nuance that would actually make him MORE likable (because he would appear more realistic). Meanwhile, Horton’s perfectly in type and although he’s an obstacle for our good-guy William, we don’t really consider him the villain. Frank McHugh and Claire Dodd, both of whom we’ve seen in MANY films in this Blondell series, make appearances, but neither one gets to do as much worthy stuff as they have in the past. No, this is Blondell’s show, and for once, she disappoints — and it’s not because of anything she does or doesn’t do — it’s (again) that she’s wrong for the role and way too good for the script, which gives no motivation for her character’s action. Thus, I can’t recommend this film to anyone who doesn’t want to watch a misbegotten motion picture; if you like films that don’t work, then Smarty‘s for you.