Frank S. Nugent

The original beauty. Not as glittery as Garland-Mason but in some ways even more golden.

In a changing age it is completely heartening to discover that the Charles family-Nick, the amateur sleuth, Nora, his understanding but frequently underfoot wife, and Asta, the hydrant fancier—has weathered successfully the well-known vicissitudes of time.

Intermezzo is not exactly a dramatic thunderbolt, nothing the glamour-conscious will be inflamed about. But we found it a mature, an eloquent and sensitive film and we recommend it to you.

Marked Woman could easily have become a maudlin piece. It totters every now and then on the brink of bathos and of melodramatic hokum. But invariably it is snatched back by Lloyd Bacon's direction or by the honesty of its players.

A valiant comedy, it stands on a level with such blissfully remembered items as I Met Him in Paris and Nothing Sacred... for they are all of a piece -- witty, clever and hugely amazing shows.

The picture has the opulence, the lavishness, the expansiveness and the color of the old Follies; it has the general indifference to humor which was one of Ziegfeld's characteristics; and it has the reverential approach with which, we suspect, Mr. Ziegfeld might have handled his own life story.

A beautifully told story, with sincere and vigorous performances, and with a solid and richly atmospheric production to lend its interest and fascination.

The Road to Singapore is cobbled with good intentions, is blessed intermittently with smooth-running strips of amiable nonsense, but is altogether too uneven for regular use.

This third of the trademarked Thin Men takes its murders as jauntily as ever, confirms our impression that matrimony need not be too serious a business and provides as light an entertainment as any holiday-amusement seeker is likely to find.

Jamaica Inn will not be remembered as a Hitchcock picture, but as a Charles Laughton picture.

The Invisible Man Returns is a mite on the ghostly side, too, although neither so horrendous nor so humorous as the first one was.

If The Raven is the best that Universal can do with one of the greatest horror story writers of all time, then it had better toss away the other two books in its library and stick to the pulpies for plot material.

The uniformly competent performance of the cast make it a moderately entertaining, if rather somnolently paced, story-book film.