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Some films really are so bad they should be burned to protect their maker's reputation - and audiences. High on any such list comes this awful Abel Gance version of the much filmed infidelity melo.
Galland (Fejos' Fantomas), in his round mirror head piece, is the leading children's surgeon but, unbeknown to him, his blonde wife, weepy specialist Noro, is involved with his playwright brother.
Drear plot complications get rid of the brother and leave Line open to blackmail by Antonin Artaud no less. Will Dr. Galland take out his grievance on their child? Already committed to another operation, he declares "I treat my patients in order." It looks like the few exteriors will be a drive to the cemetery.
Noro does her best among all the stilted writing and performance. The rest are dreadful.
Ugly images. The awkward track is busy with noises off. Unattractive people. Clumsy staging. The decorated lamp between the leads in their big scene gets more attention than they do.
The film offers an awful notion of good taste and prosperity. Think of it as being a French early sound DALLAS, only much less amusing.
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