It's not great by any means, but it's a pretty good movie that didn't leave me filled with regret for investing time in it.

While it doesn't offer any answers, it both thrills and makes you think.

The tone of this movie is interesting -- the stakes are both dramatic and high, but it's balanced with a lot of fun, tongue and cheek dialogue.

It is neither dumb nor smart enough to be fun, and spends way too much time with its boring human characters.

NOTES: Dedicated to Virginia Military Institute, "The West Point of the South", the stage play by two former cadets opened on Broadway at the Biltmore on 16 December 1936, running a most successful 575 performances. It starred Eddie Albert, Jose Ferrer and Frank Albertson. The producer-director was George Abbott. Although it failed to achieve the topmost ranks at the domestic box-office, the movie was certainly as popular, inspiring both a sequel Brother Rat and a Baby and a re-make About Face.COMMENT: Well, here we are in back in the barracks at yet another Military Academy. This one is called the West Point of the South and there are the usual scriptural tributes to the Dedication and Courage of its graduates.The undergrads lead much the same sort of life as in countless other Hollywood films and the way the film starts off we seem to be in for a very boring session indeed. However, the film suddenly starts to improve, doubtless due to the fact that the screenwriters give up trying to open out the original text and let the stage play speak for itself. We actually begin to take a shine to the film's three main characters - Reagan, Morris and Albert - something we didn't think could happen from the film's first 15 minutes. Admittedly, we don't get nearly so interested in the three girls. Priscilla Lane tries too hard to win our interest, Jane Bryan is a dull mouse and Jane Wyman is as unattractive as the script forces her to appear. She doesn't get any better later on either. But the supporting characters are great, especially William Tracy's delightfully enacted Bottom and the delicious interpretation of his room-hopping, impoverished companion, and also the taken-in Officer of the Day, plus Henry O'Neil with his delightful retort, "Highly unorthodox," which gives the film its amusing conclusion. Keighley's direction is skillful, except in his attempts to integrate studio material with location-shot footage. Not a single one of the players went on location, so long shots are clumsily cut into the studio footage, or even worse, glaringly obvious process screens are used.

Military schools are not exactly known for madcap antics. Here there's a great deal of fun and delight in breaking the many rules in whirlwind fashion. I suspect those shenanigans came across much funnier in 1938 than they do now. The comedy antics revolve around Wayne Morris's cadet Randolph. The trouble is that Morris and/or director Keighley seem to think that there's something automatically funny about being loud and obnoxious, such that one particularly lengthy scene is almost exhausting in pretended hilarity. William Tracy's sadsack new cadet is funnier, but then Tracy is a comedian by nature.Unfortunately, this is not a movie that takes advantage of Ronald Reagan's natural charm and easy smile. His cadet Crawford is something of a sober-sides and is clearly a secondary role to Morris. Actually, it's Jane Wyman who I think comes across best. Her Claire Adams may be a plain-jane bookworm, but when she takes off her glasses the screen really does light up— no wonder Reagan married her. On the other hand, Eddie Albert is really good at looking confused or perplexed. The trouble is that his dour cadet appears to be in a more serious movie than the one here. I expect one reason the film has lost impact is a shift in public mores over a 70-year period. I doubt that audiences find the various boy-girl situations as scandalously funny now as they did then. Anyway, regardless of comedic skills, the real-life Wayne Morris was a distinguished military man and authentic war hero, making his role here rather ironical. Too bad that today he's almost totally forgotten.

These Warner Brothers players are always fun to watch. Anyone who hasn't seen this sort-of-classic movie really should watch it.In Ronald Reagan's first autobiography -- "Where's the Rest of Me?" -- he tells the story of a staff meeting or perhaps dinner gathering during World War II.Lt. Reagan says to the commander, We've got something in common, sir: You attended Virginia Military Institute and I was in a movie about the school.The commander, possibly a colonel, maybe a general, replied to the effect, That was one of the silliest damn things I ever saw.It was. Pretty darn silly.But fun in spots, and, as Reagan said, Eddie Albert was "discovered" and became a major star, although that doesn't explain "Green Acres."All in all, with this collection of major stars -- although with some, stardom came later -- any movie fan, and especially any film historian, really ought to see this. At least once.

EDDIE ALBERT plays a hapless Virginia Military Institute cadet who gets into all kinds of scrapes because of his brash friend, WAYNE MORRIS, an actor Warner Bros. was grooming for stardom. Albert is so professional that he's a pleasure to watch as he goes from one zany situation after another accompanied by Morris and Reagan.Way down in the cast credits are JANE WYMAN and RONALD REAGAN, still up-and-coming future stars developing a light touch for comedy. PRISCILLA LANE and JANE BRYAN play the other two gals who get entangled in all the farcical situations involving the cadets.It's typical broad comedy material from a successful stage play with Albert repeating his Broadway stage role and showing what a fine comedian he could be, his genial personality supplying most of the laughs. WAYNE MORRIS is a bit strident as the top-billed lead, but PRISCILLA LANE does a nice job as his wholesome girl friend.It's strictly fluff, '30s style, and passes the time without being anything you're likely to remember too fondly unless you love this type of screwball comedy directed by William Keighley.