The New York Times described it as "the most brilliant picture yet this year", praising Sturges's mix of escapist fun with underlying significance, and ranked it as one of the ten best films of 1941.

But The Hollywood Reporter said that it lacked the "down to earth quality and sincerity which made [Sturges's] other three pictures of 1941 – The Great McGinty, The Lady Eve, and Christmas in July – "a joy to behold".

[3] In 1990, Sullivan's Travels was selected for preservation in the United States National Film Registry by the Library of Congress as being "culturally, historically, or aesthetically significant."

Dissatisfied with making such films as Ants in Your Plants of 1939, he tells his studio boss, Mr. LeBrand, that he wants his next project to be a serious exploration of the plight of the downtrodden based on the novel O Brother, Where Art Thou?

He wants to "know trouble" firsthand, and plans to travel as a tramp so he can make a film that truly depicts the sorrows of humanity.

After riding in a cattle car, eating in soup kitchens and sleeping in homeless shelters with the girl (where someone steals his shoes), Sullivan finally decides he has had enough.

The girl wants to stay with him, but Sullivan reveals to her that he is married, lovelessly, to someone else, having been advised to do so solely to reduce his taxes.

Worse, the plan backfired, with Sullivan's joint returns higher than when he was single and his wife having an affair with his business manager.

At a train yard, a man knocks Sullivan unconscious, steals his money and shoes, and dumps him in a departing boxcar.

When the mangled body is found, the ID cards sewn into the stolen shoes identify the deceased as Sullivan.

In his dazed state, Sullivan hits the man with a rock, earning himself a six-year sentence of hard labor in a work camp.

In the camp, he attends a showing of Walt Disney's 1934 Playful Pluto cartoon, a rare treat for the prisoners, and is surprised to find himself laughing along with the rest of them.

Unable to convince anybody either that he is Sullivan or communicate with the outside world, he comes up with a solution: after learning of his unsolved "killing" on the front page of an old newspaper, he confesses to being the murderer.

Sullivan confesses he has changed his mind; he now wants to continue making comedies, having seen firsthand the joy they bring to the downtrodden.

The film's primary theme is best summed up in the last line of dialogue as spoken by Sullivan: "There's a lot to be said for making people laugh.

The Secretary of the NAACP, Walter White, wrote to Sturges: I want to congratulate and thank you for the church sequence in Sullivan's Travels.

I was in Hollywood recently and am to return there soon for conferences with production heads, writers, directors, and actors and actresses in an effort to induce broader and more decent picturization of the Negro instead of limiting him to menial or comic roles.

"[4] Paramount contracted with the Schlesinger Corp., who made the Warner Bros. Looney Tunes and Merrie Melodies cartoons, to make an animated main title sequence, but this was not used in the film, if it was ever actually produced.

They felt that the word "bum" would be rejected by British censors, and warned that there should be no "suggestion of sexual intimacy" between Sullivan and The Girl in the scenes in which they are sleeping together at the mission.

[4] Sullivan's Travels was not immediately successful at the box office as were earlier Sturges films such as The Great McGinty and The Lady Eve, and received mixed critical reception.

[11] In 2020, Diabolique Magazine described Lake's character as "captivating, magical, and extremely sexy, whether sitting on McCrea's lap in a bathrobe and combing his hair or walking along the road in a hobo overcoat ... She wasn't great with all her dialogue but Sturges made her spit it out at rapid-fire pace and protected her limitations.

[13] In 1990, Sullivan's Travels was selected for preservation in the United States National Film Registry by the Library of Congress as being "culturally, historically, or aesthetically significant.