At times, I Was A Male War Bride feels like it’s going to transcend its idiotic title and become a romantic charmer. Poor Cary Grant is saddled with a loutish character in a transparent effort to establish the type of conflict that works effortlessly in movies like It Happened One Night but seems painfully labored here: he doesn’t win our sympathy when he has to endure the protracted humiliation laid out for him. The look of discomfort on his face throughout the movie seems like it’s coming from Cary Grant and not the character he’s playing. The revelation of this movie is Ann Sheridan. She calmly takes Grant’s abuse and gives back better than she gets. She alone makes this movie worth watching. The directors of the day should have searched the earth for scripts worthy of her talent.