Cary Grant, never handsomer or more suave; Ingrid Bergman, wearing a series of knockout gowns and demonstrating a hitherto unexposed knack for comedy; polished Stanley Donen direction; what's not to like? Well, there's the flat Norman Krasna screenplay, which he adapted from a so-so stage farce of his, which starred Charles Boyer and Mary Martin. The premise, with Grant pretending to be married so Bergman doesn't get too serious with him, is, first, trite, and, second, implausible. Mostly the two just swan about and convey how besotted they are with one another, and there's essentially no conflict at all. The '50s morality now looks pretty quaint, and the no-name supporting cast stumbles through without much panache. Nice to look at, certainly, and nice moments, particularly one of Grant letting loose on the dance floor. But it's really much ado about not much.