Kissing Time Review: A Dusty, Half-Baked Rebel Romance

Should you watch Kissing Time tonight? Honestly, only if you have a deep tolerance for dusty, black-and-white studio backlots trying to pass as "exotic" locations. 🌴

Romance junkies who don't mind a lot of creaky dialogue will have a decent time. But if you want actual tension or, you know, a plot that makes sense, go watch Tarzan the Tiger instead.

The setup is incredibly simple. An American girl rolls into a tiny Latin American town and immediately falls head over heels for a local rebel leader played by Georges Metaxa.

The "rebellion" feels like it consists of about four guys hiding behind a very clean cardboard rock. I kept staring at the background extras instead of the main actors.

There is one guy in a giant hat who just stands there holding a donkey for like ten minutes. Seriously, the donkey looks more awake than half the cast.

Jane Froman is here, and she can sing, sure. But her acting has this stiff, deer-in-the-headlights quality that makes you wonder if someone was holding the script right off-camera.

Their is this one scene where she tries to look "conflicted" about her feelings. She basically just blinks a lot and clutches her necklace like she’s trying to remember if she left the stove on back in Ohio.

And the romance? Oh boy.

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

They fall in "love" after sharing approximately two sentences about the weather. It’s the kind of movie where a guy can just look at a woman, say some cheesy line about her eyes, and boom—they are ready to die for each other.

Gerald Oliver Smith shows up doing his usual posh British shtick, which makes absolutely zero sense in this setting. Why is he even there? Nobody knows.

He just sort of wanders into shots, says something slightly snobbish, and wanders out. It reminds me of those weird character dynamics in Betty to the Rescue where people just exist in scenes for no clear reason.

The writing by Cyrus Wood and A. Dorian Otvos is... well, it’s definitely words on paper. Some of the jokes land with a thud so loud you can almost hear the studio crew yawning.

But there is a weird charm to how bad it is. It’s so short and harmless that you can't really get mad at it.

Plus, the music isn't half bad if you like that warbling, early-sound-era style. Just don't expect anything like a masterpiece.

It’s a relic, plain and simple.

A few things I wrote down while watching:

• The rebel lieutenant’s mustache deserves its own billing. It’s glorious.
• Why does everyone in this town speak with a different accent? It's a linguistic free-for-all.
• That one guitar solo that clearly wasn't being played by the guy holding the guitar. His fingers didn't even move! 🎸
• The romantic climax is so abrupt it feels like they ran out of film.

If you're in the mood for something incredibly light and slightly silly, give it a spin. Otherwise, let this one sleep in the vaults.