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All the actors are pretty much supporting characters, while the real star of the show is hilariously terrible parenting advice. Explaining to his wife why he vetoed her ass and let their sass-mouth daughter out to go flooze it up, he states that his motto is to never suspect that kids will ever do anything wrong, because "When you suspect your children of wrong, you'll wish it on them." He then claims that mothers are solely responsible when daughters go bad, while fathers are solely responsible for the sins of their sons. Obviously.

So you'd assume that Hard-Smoochin' Daddy is supposed to be the villain here ("Behold the dangers of infamously permissive 1930s parents!"), but wait! This baffling, slapdash production has more tricks up it sleeve. After a pastor shows up to lament the teens he sees prancing around "half-naked" in the streets ("These modern young rowdies are headed for perdition!"), the focus then shifts to a totally different young woman and her tale of woe. Her father turns out to be the overbearing preacher, so it seems like we're being told now that holy helicopter parenting is to blame when she succumbs to that devil hooch, her virtue goes kerblooey, and she winds up in an unhappy marriage.

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After lolling around in her drunkitude for awhile, she runs home, and everything seems to sort itself out after Dad apologizes for being such a hardass. He then delivers a sermon admitting his mistakes by blathering weird nonsense like "You can't put old wine into new jugs" and "No boy and girl in their folly can break through the power of marriage!" And the final scene brings things full circle, as the girl from the beginning calls her creepy dad to tell the family she's getting married herself. Everyone seems as pleased as punch.

So what the hell was even the lesson here? Let's put it this way: Large chunks of the movie were cobbled together during the hasty editing process with footage from an entirely different film. This "Girls tempted by vice" genre was so hot back then that they were just throwing shit together, like those weird YouTube nursery rhyme videos. Who cares about message? This business is all about volume, sonny!