As expected, She Done Him Wrong boasts few positive attributes or elements worth getting excited about aside from Mae West's typically magnetic turn as the brash protagonist...

Mae West gives a compelling, albeit wholly unlikable performance as a heartless, wealth-focused man-eater. I've got to say it's one of the least sexy performances by a so-called sex symbol in recent cinematic memory.

Mae West stars as Lady Lou, a singer and very popular lady living above a saloon in the 1890s. She's quite the worldly lady when it comes to some things, but when it comes to others, she's a little bit too naive for her own good. She's got men throwing themselves at her at every turn, including one big timer who gives her box loads of diamonds and one small timer who's serving time and literally can't wait to have Lou in his arms again. She plays them all, telling them what they want to hear and reaping the benefits. But there's one man she can't seem to get a handle on, the local captain at the missionary (Cary Grant). He's more interested in saving Lou's soul than in having her body, much to her chagrin. When a shamed woman tries to commit suicide in the saloon, Lou takes her under her wing and sends her to the mission. It turns out the boss of the saloon didn't get the girl a job like he promised but instead ran her into some sort of "white slavery" ring (where else would he get all the money to pay for Lou's diamonds?). It's strange that most of the bad in men (in She Done Him Wrong) can all be traced back to the temptations of a single woman. Cary Grant's closing line to her is "You're a baad girl" to which she replies "You'll find out" (purportedly, Mae West gave Grant his big break, choosing him to star opposite her in this film- West obviously knew a thing about male actors). She Done Him Wrong is a very good film, well shot with a nostalgia for the gay 90s and Mae West just eats up the scenery. Sure, everyone knows her schtick: the cat-like drawl, practically moaning her double entendres and innuendos, the way she swings just about every part of her body when she walks, but does everyone catch just the subtlest raised eyebrow as she belts out "Frankie and Johnnie"? I don't even know if West noticed it herself. Her performance of that character might've been like second nature to her by that point (in this, her second film, Mae was already 39 years old and a veteran of the stage). Whether or not the cast rises to the challenge of performing with her is moot, this is Mae West's film and hers alone, and she's a magnificient talent.