SimonJack This is a story, set in Paris, about a con artist falling in love, resolving to reform, and then despairing about his chances and moving on. William Powell plays the con artist, and his love interest is Carole Lombard who plays Mary Kendall, daughter of a wealthy business owner from the U.S. But, Powell isn't just any con artist. He's a master who runs a sophisticated yet simple scheme. Wynne Gibson plays an accomplice of Powell's Michael Trevor. As Irene Hoffa, she carries a torch for him. She's jealous and is torn by love-hate feelings for the guy. Some other supporting cast do their parts well. The story is just a version of many others one has read, heard or watched on film. Bad guy meets girl, falls in love and goes straight. I don't mean to make it sound like a trifle, but something isn't quite right about this film. It's supposed to be a romantic drama. There is no chemistry between the two leads. Powell shows no emotions at all. His character has no life. He just seems to mope from one scene to another – head down and eyes toward the floor. It seems like Powell hasn't yet shaken that acting method from the silent films he made. He is capable of much better as we see in his many later films. The script isn't very good and the direction is lacking. It's a fair film for folks who enjoy Powell and Lombard movies. But it's nowhere near the considerable repertoire of very good films made by either star. I rate it six stars mostly for the good look it provides of some of the top supporting cast actors from the first decade of the talkies.

calvinnme ... and yet I give it a mediocre rating, not a poor one. That's because who would expect an early 30's film starring William Powell, Carole Lombard, and Guy Kibbee with strong support by Wynne Gibson to be anything less than excellent? I know I wouldn't. The film is tortuously slow after starting out with a couple of promising scenes. The film opens with drunken American Harry Taylor (Guy Kibbee) accosting Michael Trevor (William Powell) on the streets of Paris thinking he was somebody else - he is. It turns out Trevor is an alias for an expatriate who was a stand-up journalist in America but had to take it on the lam after he got left holding the bag for something that is never clearly explained. At any rate, in the film Michael later explains that after he paid wrongfully for someone else's misdeed he decided he would start making others pay. Thus he starts a blackmailing racket in Paris without anybody truly knowing who he is but his two partners - Fred and Irene (Wynne Gibson). He has one rule though - he never victimizes women. He ends up blackmailing Harry Taylor for some fling with a blonde, but makes it look like he's doing him a favor by being a go-between for the unscrupulous scandal sheet operator that will print the news and Harry. This ends all of the clever scenes in the movie. Carole Lombard plays Harry's niece, Mary, who instantly falls for Michael, and the feeling is mutual. Michael wants to make a clean breast of his past to Mary, leave the crooked life behind him and marry the girl.The monkey wrench in the works? Wynne Gibson as Irene - she's Michael's ex and she's none too happy about it. She spends the rest of the movie being a shameless clinging back-stabbing harpy to the point where you want to chase her off with a mallet and let the two lovers have a happy ending.The acting and production values are the reason I give this one even five stars. William Powell's acting is the centerpiece of this film and he splendidly conveys - without that much dialogue - the persona of a man of the world with the weight of the world on his shoulders. However, the pace is awful, the conclusion will leave a bad taste in your mouth, and normally I would blame the director for such great performers putting my feet to sleep at times, but director Robert Wallace had and would direct some pretty good early talkies that didn't crawl along like this one at all, so I guess the cause of the mediocre result will always be a mystery.Recommended only to see Powell and Lombard together in the film that started their relationship and ultimately brought about their marriage.

oldblackandwhite Man Of The World is an 80-year old curio found in an economically priced Universal album with five other Carol Lombard pictures likewise valued primarily as antiques. The gorgeous Miss Lombard bore not a little resemblance to Greta Garbo in the looks department, though even more beautiful. Unfortunately there was little resemblance in the acting department. She was best at comedy, but Man Of The World is a melodrama. Never mind, William Powell was on hand to take care of that department with solid support from the delightfully eccentric Guy Kibbee and perennial strumpet Wynne Gibson.This picture is very much the creaking early talkie. You know it is from the moment you start the DVD by the 1.20:1 screen aspect ratio. The sound strip on the edge of the film cut the 35 mm film frame's original 1.33:1 (same as an old standard TV screen) down to a claustrophobic, square-looking screen. By 1933 all the studios would adopt the "Accademy Standard" 1.37:1 screen by the simple expedient of a camera aperture mask. Early street scenes in Man Of The World are obviously stock footage from silent movies. But there was little other stock footage available then! When the movies started talking, there were three kinds of actors available -- those who had acted only in silents, stage actors, and actors who had experience in both media. But they and their directors soon learned that the talking picture was a whole new game. The melodramatic gestures needed to convey emotion in silent movies looked ridiculous with actual spoken dialog. Yet the stage style of acting would seem wooden in talking pictures. With microphones actors did not need to shout to be heard, and the motion picture camera could record subtle facial expressions and body movements which would have been lost on the third row of a live theater audience. Both Powell and Lombard had stage as well as silent movie experience, though much more of the latter in her case. Powell, who would eventually develop a talking picture style of top caliber, was still working on it in Man Of The World. He seems a little stiff at times, and so does Wynne Gibson, but both are nevertheless very effective. Contrary to what some other reviewers have felt, I found Gibson's performance and asset, even though there were times when she was projecting to the back row seats. Carole Lombard's sound acting style with her sexy voice and fluid movement seems more natural, but then her part in the picture is not a particularly demanding one. Guy Kibbee, surprisingly, is the player who had the most secure handle on the new sound movie style. Perhaps it was his early experience as an entertainer in the intimate confines of a Mississippi riverboat.The oft-used plot has slick con man Powell trying to work a blackmail scheme on naive American lass Lombard and her rich but dimwitted uncle Kibbee. With jealous ex-moll and confederate Gibson egging on the reluctant Powell. Predictably Powell falls in love with the sweet and beautiful Carole. However, all is very well done, things do not necessarily go according to formula, and the ending is something of a surprise.Though I was about to give up on the Carole Lombard movies after watching two from the set, The Princess Comes Through, and We're Not Dressing (see my review), I was pleasantly surprised by Man Of The World. But then it was really a William Powell movie. Carole didn't have to do much except look good, and she did that very well indeed.Man Of The World is rough around the edges but rewarding if you stick with it. At an hour and fourteen minutes, a good filler movie.--------- Post Script (Jan 2014): Since writing this creaky old review, viewings of several other Carol Lombard Lombard pictures, including Love Before Breakfast (1936) (see my review) and the wonderful Twentieth Century (1934) have considerably raised my regard for the beautiful lady's acting ability.

boblipton Paramount had a specialty of sex comedies set in Paris, France from the mid-twenties until the Production Code closed them down in 1935. At that point, the Screwball Comedy arose.As long as they were doing comedies in Paris, they did a couple of straight programmers set there too. In this one, William Powell plays an American in Paris who, while trying to write, makes a living by an interesting blackmail scam -- I've never heard of it before. This movie, with a script by Herman J. Mankiewicz and a good cast has a chance of being very good. But except for William Powell, as always, charming, and Guy Kibbee's emphatic muddleheadedness, director Richard Wallace seems to be unable to raise a decent performance. Carole Lombard keeps threatening to disappear into the background, Lawrence Grey seems impossibly callow, and Wynne Gibson seems to be reading her speeches phonetically off a blackboard.One wants to like this movie and there are a few moments when it appears on the brink of turning into something very interesting, like the scene over onion soup at 1 AM, but then it turns into another pointless costume change.William Powell's career was stuck at this point: he was trying to make the change from screen villain to leading man, but couldn't quite get the right vehicles. He would leave Paramount for Warner's until he struck gold at Metro in 1934. But he always remained a character actor, capable of small or broad performances that would delight the audiences. It's a pity he's not strong enough to carry this movie by himself.