This is an MGM chick flick, 1934- style. Constance Bennett, a first class actress, is Iris, a penniless heiress (I'm still trying to get my brain around how she and her drunken brother can live so well despite their circumstances... they have servants who work whilst politely grumbling over not being paid) who loves the Napier, (Herbert Marshall) son of a prominent English family with interests in India. His father (Henry Stephenson) bans their marriage and each goes off in different directions while carrying awfully large torches for each other. My problems with the production: 1) Marshall is ill-fitted as the somewhat spineless son--- he's 44 here (!) 2) Stephenson is a real one-dimensional turd until the big revelation. 3) The ending (I won't give it away, but it doesn't really fit with Iris' temperament). Connie Bennett ranks (along with Kay Francis and Bebe Daniels) as one of the most underrated actresses around and is always fascinating to watch... even in pedestrian soap like this.
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