The illustrious Ben Hecht was the initial screenwriter here with a work intended for Cary Grant and Kate Hepburn, but Cary dropped out and so the producers got Mr. Bob Hope instead (yeah I know, what's the connection?). And Hope (as he always did) brought his own writers to, er, "massage the script". Kate wrote in her memoirs that "... so I became his stooge." There was denunciations all round afterwards, after it was panned and bombed, and in the end Hope himself saw to it that this film was not shown in the United States for nearly 20 years. Kate's Russian accent is as bad as could be imagined but at least you can see the old girl working to lift the thing by sheer willpower if need be. Not all of Hope's humor flies either, for all the massaging. This is not quality product. But then it's not all bad either.