Listen, Zipper-puss! Some day they’re just gonna find your hair ribbon and an axe someplace. Nothing else! The Mystery of Morgan’s Creek! Trudy Kockenlocker (Betty Hutton) is a small-town girl with a soft spot for soldiers. She wakes up one morning after a wild farewell party for a group of them departing for service to find that while drunk the night before, she married a soldier whose name she can’t remember, except that “it had a z in it. Like Ratzkywatzky … or was it Zitzkywitzky?” She thinks they both used fake names and she doesn’t know how to get in touch with him or even what he looks like. The matter is complicated when she learns that she became pregnant that night as well. Hapless Norval Jones (Eddie Bracken), a local who’s been classified 4-F [unfit for active military service] who has been in love with Trudy for years, steps in to help out, but her over-protective policeman father (William Demarest) gets involved and complicates matters. Before long, Norval is arrested on 19 different charges, and then he finds himself on the run as an escaped prisoner. All seems lost until Trudy gives birth to sextuplets. At that point Governor McGinty (Brian Donlevy) and The Boss (Akim Tamiroff) step in: cue the happy ending! … The responsibility for recording a marriage has always been up to woman. If it wasn’t for her, marriage would have disappeared long since. No man is going to jeopardize his present or poison his future with a lot of little brats hollering around the house unless he’s forced to. It’s up to the woman to knock him down, hogtie him, and drag him in front of two witnesses immediately if not sooner. Anytime after that is too late. Reuniting most of the cast of Preston Sturges’ 1940 outing The Great McGinty (Diana Lynn, William Demarest, Porter Hall, Brian Donlevy and Akim Tamiroff) in the same roles, this was shot in 1942 but not released by Paramount for another two years: sensitivities were high when the US joined in the war effort and the War Dept didn’t want people to think badly of departing soldiers; plus the studio was trying to keep the auteur’s output on a leash because he shot so many films. And then there were the censorship problems which left Sturges with just ten pages of script going into production because of fears that Trudy’s situation might be likened to the Virgin Birth of religious lore. Sturges defended the text because he said it was intended to “show what happens to young girls who disregard their parents’ advice and who confuse patriotism with promiscuity.” It’s a breathtaking farce, played with astonishing energy and commanded by Sturges like a steam train driving through contemporary mores and family values. This is one of the reasons I was disappointed not to see inside his writing room at Paramount on the studio tour! Wildly funny, brilliant and daring, it’s a bona fide classic.