Never a good idea when making a movie to kill off your best character twenty some odd minutes in. Referring, of course, to the unhappy, aging, neurotic, dipso model played to self destructive, sardonic perfection by Ann Dvorak. When she throws herself out of a top story apartment window a lot of the quality and all the energy of this film goes with her. Did you notice, for example, how Isobel Lennart's dialogue, so sharp and insightful when Dvorak is around, turns mushy and labored? And how George Cukor's directorial pacing seems to be off a tic or two once Ray Milland (rhymes with bland) and his dull love interest character enters the picture? Gone is the breezy tone of the first fifteen minutes when Lana Turner's character gets a crash course from Tom Ewell in Modeling 101 and the tension inherent in the nightclub scene with sleazy Barry Sullivan, Dvorak, Turner and nice but not too nice Louis Calhern.
Bottom line: It's not the worst Cukor film ever made (that dubious distinction goes to "Chapman Report") but we're a long way from "Adam's Rib" or even "The Actress", for that matter. Give it a C.
PS...Milland as a copper baron from Montana is about as convincing as John Wayne playing a librarian.
Bottom line: It's not the worst Cukor film ever made (that dubious distinction goes to "Chapman Report") but we're a long way from "Adam's Rib" or even "The Actress", for that matter. Give it a C.
PS...Milland as a copper baron from Montana is about as convincing as John Wayne playing a librarian.