For actress Louise Allbritton, it was hardly the film role of a lifetime. But she delivered her lines flawlessly. “What does San Diego think it is, Washington D.C.?” The script called for her character to arrive in wartime at a local hotel without a reservation. The exasperated clerk had to explain, “Lady, we pride ourselves in having more confusion per square inch in San Diego than Washington ever heard of.”
I have never quite understood what the clerk was trying to say. I suspect the writers thought it came early enough in the 1944 movie San Diego I Love You, that theater patrons would still be settling in with their jujubes and banana taffy.
Some years ago, I received a VHS copy of San Diego I Love You. It has since been on TCM, and as much as any of us might be proud of the title, there are only a few moments in the plot to back it up. Essentially, a high school teacher (played by Edward Everett Horton) invents a self-inflating life raft, and when he and his daughter head to San Diego to try to find investors, slapstick hilarity ensues. There are shots of the zoo, and sharp observers might pick out a local landmark or two. I do not think I am giving away too much in saying that, in the end, the leading lady gets everything she wants including the leading man.
The cast includes some remarkable names. Irene Ryan, later known for her portrayal of Granny in The Beverly Hillbillies, has a supporting role, as does Buster Keaton, who appears as a bus driver, navigating the roadways whilst Allbritten and co-star Jon Hall coo in the coach.
The movie itself was generally panned by critics at the time. Among the kinder reviews was one by James Agee, who wrote in The Nation: “I can’t exactly recommend it, but if you see it by accident, it will cause no particular pain.”
That seems about right. I have watched San Diego I Love You a few times over the years, and while it very effectively avoided Oscar consideration, it also was probably just the frothy tonic for folks who had a lot to worry about. It was not a box office blockbuster but seems to have drawn enough of an audience to make it worth the effort. It also deserves credit for an accurate depiction of what San Diego was like in the War Years, when on any given day as many as 40-thousand off duty sailors joined a booming population of defense workers.
Anyone expecting to get a hotel room without a reservation back then must indeed, have encountered a lot of square inches of confusion.
