George Raft may have cut quite a swath through the women of Hollywood, but I'm afraid that, for me, his image will never recover the look of him in a girl's blouse. Yes, it's modeled on flamenco costumes, but with little ruffles covering him from neck to waist, George looks as if he has put his head through a little girl's petticoat.
The rest of Rumba is similarly anaphrodisiac. Carole Lombard, playing a bored socialite, looks half asleep, even in moments of fear and passion, and the dances, supposed to be Latin American sensual-sensational, are very mild stuff. In the final number, the chorus girls and boys seem to be getting it on far more than the two principals, who do a standard Astaire-Rogers dance, and needless to say it is mediocre.
The one, unexpected plus here is the Mexican actress Margo. Lovely, sensual, and sensitive, she is so much more womanly that Carole Lombard that only enforced patriotism would keep George fixated on the icy Carole.
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