Modern audiences may find By the Light of the Silvery Moon a little hard to sit through -- not because they do not have a taste for "wholesome" films, but because Moon's wholesomeness is no more genuine than the fake snow that blankets the final ice skating sequence. An ersatz down-home nostalgia permeates the entire movie, imagining an innocence that its creators don't believe in -- because it never really existed -- and, as a result, the film feels like it's trying to put something over on us. That said, it is certainly professionally produced, and those not bothered by its overly rosy glow will find it very engaging and will probably be willing to overlook the fact that there's no real drama or plot, thereby allowing them to delight in the yummy colors, charming sets, quaint costumes, and smooth-as-silk arrangements of the period songs (and some not-quite-so-period) that pop up every time the dialogue gets a bit tiring. David Butler has gathered a talented cast to help matters, although Doris Day is not at her peak here. She's a bit forced (even in her singing, where her trademark throb pushes forward a bit too often), and at times is unflatteringly lit and made up. Her co-star, Gordon MacRae, is winning and genuine and is in excellent voice. There's also solid support from Leon Ames, Rosemary de Camp, and Mary Wickes, whose glare herein is so sharp it should qualify as a lethal weapon. On the whole, Moon may be more aluminum than silver, but it has a shine nonetheless.