Loosely adapted from the famous Oscar Wilde short story, The Canterville Ghost is an enjoyable diversion. Updating the story to a World War II setting and complicating the original, rather simple story gives the piece a distinctly different feel, one that is decidedly "un-Wildean," but it works well as an example of Hollywood comedy in the mid-'40s. Edwin Blum's screenplay is serviceable; it does its job well, but is not especially memorable. Likewise, Jules Dassin's direction is fine, though nothing to write home about. Where Canterville shines is in its performances, especially that of Charles Laughton. Looking quite a bit like Bert Lahr, Laughton could probably have played the part in his sleep, but the looseness he brings to the role allows him to strike all the right notes, and there's a lovely playfulness to his every moment onscreen. Margaret O'Brien's English accent is very much a sometime thing, but she's otherwise very effective, if a bit forced in places. And Robert Young is charming throughout; indeed, Young's performance may be perhaps a bit TOO charming, for it's hard to believe that this man suddenly becomes a coward merely because he discovers that all of his ancestors were. Still, most will be willing to overlook this flaw and enjoy this lovely little romp of a film.