[7]

This is the first of at least three film versions of Robert L. Sherwood's play about an American soldier who falls in love with a Londoner during a World War I air raid, unaware that she is a prostitute. Director James Whale (Frankenstein, The Invisible Man) delivers a solid melodrama with two great lead performers. I was particularly taken with Kent Douglass as Roy. At times, he seemed to display the kind of naturalistic acting style that wouldn't become popularized until Brando hit the scene decades later. I totally bought Roy's doe-eyed infatuation with Myra (Mae Clarke), hook, line and sinker. Clark is good with the tremendous amount of pathos the screenplay gives her to work with.

Whale brings his signature style to the piece — the camera moves a lot more than in other movies from the early 30s. The visual effects depicting the air raids and bombings are good for the time. And like other Whale films, we get a colorful array of supporting characters including the deaf military father, the batty landlord, and the wench from the bridge who cares more about her potatoes than she does the air raids. Bette Davis also appears as Roy’s sister.

My only gripe with the movie is the ending. I said this recently about Baby Face and San Francisco: why do the sluts have to die for their sins? I guess it was next to impossible to portray a woman as anything other than virginal back in the 30s, 40s and 50s, without having to kill her at the end. The moment was well executed, and the movie is otherwise so entertaining, I am willing to overlook the morally pretentious finale.