The writer and director of this film tried to rekindle the atmosphere of San Francisco with Spencer Tracy and Clark Gable. That film was a rouser. This one is a dud. There are more holes in this script than a golf course in Florida. The indian character, Charlie, is one-dimensional, Morgan is annoyingly suffering from megalomania, Talman is suffering from self-delusion about the love of the female lead, who loves neither of the two men; she just loves being in the movie, and there are several pots left boiling on the stove. For example, a mean gang at the start of film is never heard from again, we don't know how Talman met his romantic interest, we don't know why people did not do proper research before spending a few million dollars on a get richer quicker scheme, when they were already wealthy and comfortable, and we don't know how an Italian restaurant came to be in the middle of the desert (although it would make a fortune as one of the few places to get a decent meal). Watch at your own peril.