An epidemic of hold-overs seems to have struck the Boston theatres, with the result that cinemaddicts of the vicinity of Harvard Square must fall back on their old standby, the U. T. For the rest of the week there is a program being offered which, if not of the kind to rekindle with terrible intensity the fires of that beautiful loyalty, is nevertheless much better than average. It includes "That Certain Age," a picture far better, and "Straight, Place, and Show," one not nearly so bad, as many of the advance reports would indicate.
A glance at the billing shows the Ritz Brothers to be featured in the minor picture, but this should not prejudice any except the most violent anti-Ritzists against the program as a whole. Only a few very dull sequences have found their way into this latest, horsey attempt, and there are a few funny ones; but even if it were entirely dull, the feature would fully compensate. It was no accident that the title of Deanna Durbin's "That Certain Age" was taken from a song Ann Rutherford sang in "Love Finds Andy Hardy." This newest vehicle for Miss Durbin is much after the Hardy Family tradition; it has the delightful humor of teen age romance; it has the homely and appealing simplicity of a down-to-earth plot; and it has the skillful directing which makes for smooth, leisurely exposition. More important than all this, however, it has that great, single asset of any picture: Deanna Durbin's voice. Better than ever before, especially in the higher ranges, it renders both opera and "A Bicycle Built For Two" with equally charming, careless abandon. Melvyn Douglas, as the unwitting object of Deanna's "eternal" devotion, and Jackie Cooper, as the patient, long-suffering true love, are also good in their less important roles.