Any film with the likes of Claude Rains and (Oscar nominated) Fay Bainter top-lined in it deserves to be better remembered than this interesting piece drawn from a noted author's (THE ROBE) short story in Cosmopolitan magazine. It's rather sad that it doesn't even merit *mention* in Leonard Maltin's otherwise valuable Movie and Video Guide before Maltin started pruning back his discussion of classic older films in 2000 to make way for newer films. Still, while viewers who make it through the first 15 minutes of this somewhat plodding piece when it shows up on Turner Classic movies occasionally may understand the lack of honor the film has retained, they should also note two of the great strengths of the old studio system.
This minor story (even for the late 1930's it was basically a 'chick flick': borderline weeper of a mother's sacrifice for her child) has the care of a first rate cast lavished on it and, more to the point here, every care the studio art (set and costume) department could take on a simple domestic drama which was not then a particular 'period' piece. The opening scenes are set less than 20 years before the film was made, but the studio art department lovingly recreates the home (especially the kitchen) that "modern technology" had so drastically transformed in those 20 years.
The attention to detail is only fitting in a story where the most interesting (if technically secondary) character (Raines) is a striving kitchen sink inventor (lacking anywhere else to experiment), but this very realistic glimpse of a way of life fast disappearing even as the film was being made offers serious pleasures even if the plot falls short.
All in all, wonderful cast makes this worth considering, wonderful set holds the attention of the history conscious even when the plot and dialogue can't. It isn't likely to show up on DVD anytime soon unless the studio should choose to do a (much desired) Claude Raines box while a significant part of the audience who remembers this great British/American actor is still around, but when offered on cable, WHITE BANNERS (the title drawn from the idea that the white flags of surrender can also be banners of pride when waved for the right reasons) may be worth setting the video recorder for to sample at least a bit of.
This minor story (even for the late 1930's it was basically a 'chick flick': borderline weeper of a mother's sacrifice for her child) has the care of a first rate cast lavished on it and, more to the point here, every care the studio art (set and costume) department could take on a simple domestic drama which was not then a particular 'period' piece. The opening scenes are set less than 20 years before the film was made, but the studio art department lovingly recreates the home (especially the kitchen) that "modern technology" had so drastically transformed in those 20 years.
The attention to detail is only fitting in a story where the most interesting (if technically secondary) character (Raines) is a striving kitchen sink inventor (lacking anywhere else to experiment), but this very realistic glimpse of a way of life fast disappearing even as the film was being made offers serious pleasures even if the plot falls short.
All in all, wonderful cast makes this worth considering, wonderful set holds the attention of the history conscious even when the plot and dialogue can't. It isn't likely to show up on DVD anytime soon unless the studio should choose to do a (much desired) Claude Raines box while a significant part of the audience who remembers this great British/American actor is still around, but when offered on cable, WHITE BANNERS (the title drawn from the idea that the white flags of surrender can also be banners of pride when waved for the right reasons) may be worth setting the video recorder for to sample at least a bit of.