Wartime fluff:


Meet our gal, a hatcheck girl at the Stork Club who's biding her time until she sings. And brother, can she sing! She just can't move most of her body or face:





Then the stroke kicks in:



It's the style of the times, of course, but even so it must have been a bit unnerving looming down from the big screen. The plot's the usual Hollywood fantasy - she saves a rich old man from drowning, but he doesn't tell her he's rich. He secretly sets her up in a nice apartment and pays her bills, but asks nothing. Now she's living high, and attends private fashion shows in chic stores:



I love the Forties. I don't care if anything actually looked like this; it's what they wanted it to look like, or thought it should. And why shouldn't it?



For some reason her boyfriend - a soldier who also happens to be a hat-check girl at the Stork Club - no, sorry, a soldier who also happens to be a band-leader (at the Stork Cliub) finds the arrangement a little suspicious. Hey, you're not holdin' this guy's hands, are you? Or words to that effect. So he buys her clothes.

You can tell the war was won and demobilization was on the horizon. Again, check out the sets.



But it all ends well, of course, and between musical numbers, Betty Hutton models a hairstyle later adapted by the Navy, for landing small planes at sea: