Divorce Sweets: A weird little mess of a comedy

Is this thing worth your time?

If you have a soft spot for old, clunky comedies where everyone talks way too fast, sure. Go for it. But if you hate movies that feel like they were stitched together with dental floss and hope, skip it. It’s definitely not for the high-brow crowd. This is for people who enjoy seeing Franklin Pangborn act like a total nervous wreck for twenty minutes straight. 🕵️‍♂️

Cinematic perspective: Exploring the visual vocabulary of Divorce Sweets (1933) through its definitive frames.

The whole premise of Divorce Sweets is just detectives being... well, bad at their jobs. Peek and Boo aren't exactly noir legends. They spend most of the runtime trying to frame a woman, and the mechanics of the "compromise" are so transparent it's almost impressive they keep straight faces. The pacing is a total disaster, too. It jumps from one room to another like the actors are trying to catch a bus.

Cinematic perspective: Exploring the visual vocabulary of Divorce Sweets (1933) through its definitive frames.

There’s this one bit where they’re trying to set up a scene to catch the wife, and the timing is just off. Like, by a solid three seconds. It’s painful, but honestly, that’s why I liked it. It’s so unpolished it feels real. You can practically see the director sweating behind the camera, hoping nobody trips over the furniture.

Cinematic perspective: Exploring the visual vocabulary of Divorce Sweets (1933) through its definitive frames.

Wait, let's talk about the vibe.

It’s not as sharp as Sauce and Senoritas, which at least had a bit of a rhythm to its chaos. Here, the humor feels forced, like the actors were told 'be funny' and just decided to wave their arms around until the scene ended. Pangborn is doing his usual fluttery thing, which is fine, but sometimes he just stares at the wall like he’s trying to remember if he left the oven on.

Cinematic perspective: Exploring the visual vocabulary of Divorce Sweets (1933) through its definitive frames.

I found myself zoning out during the dialogue—which is fine, because the plot is basically paper-thin anyway. It reminded me a bit of the frantic energy in Vamps and Scamps, though this one has less of that weird, moody atmosphere. It’s just bright, loud, and slightly desperate.

• The props look like they were pulled out of a bargain bin.
• The lead detective’s hat is definitely three sizes too big.
• There's a door in the hallway that doesn't seem to lead anywhere.
• Someone forgot to hide the boom mic shadow in the third act.

I can’t tell if the movie knows it’s a bit of a train wreck or if it’s genuinely trying to be a serious detective caper. That ambiguity is the only reason I stayed until the end. It’s not profound, it’s not smart, and it’s certainly not a classic. But it is oddly specific in its failures. And sometimes, that's enough to keep me watching. 🎞️