The best part of this rather boring gabfest is getting to see ladies high-fashion outfits, circa 1930. Some of them are real doozies. Stanwyck gets more than her share of slinky finery as a rich guy's paramour. Actually, the movie's premise is a significant one—does marriage somehow kill love? Anne (Stanwyck) seems to think so and sometimes acts on the premise. The trouble is that the premise gets drowned out by all the talk from one scene to the next, without let-up. Then too, director Mayo adds nothing to what turns out to be a filmed stage play. To be charitable, his options may have been cramped by the newness of movie sound equipment.
Pre-Code liberties are evident in the first few scenes where Anne, in a clinging negligee, and Dick (Rennie) discuss whether to marry or to continue living in sin. After that, the screenplay settles into more conventional marital mix-ups. But at least Stanwyck shines, showing why she was slated for bigger and better things. In fact, she's almost girlish, a really long way from the femme fatale of Double Indemnity (1944). Too bad she doesn't have more scenes with that other Warner's personality girl, Joan Blondell (Duckie). Anyway, I found the movie considerably less than I expected.
