The Scoundrel (1935)

The Scoundrel is an old movie, so I suppose it deserves a little mercy, but I'm not feeling very forgiving of this Ben Hecht–Charled MacArthur film. The thing is, The Scoundrel just doesn't work. Noel Coward, who should be perfectly right for this part, doesn't make the role zip the way it ought to. The script clearly sparkles, but Coward's delivery is all misery all the time. One can't understand why anyone would ever be charmed by him, and the whole point is that this scoundrel is supposed to be charming!

And then there is the premise, which is promising but turns out to be moralistic and strange. A scoundrel, cad, what have you, is a jerk to a woman who loves him, is almost killed, but is saved by a god and required to return to earth to find someone who will shed tears for him? 

 So it's Der Fliegende Holländer set in 1930s New York, but The Scoundrel takes a moral tone that can't help but ring hollow. Furthermore, the whole thing would have been more enjoyable if the scoundrel's actual bad behavior contained any fun. Unfortunately even the scoundrel's scandals are joyless in this movie.