After decades of benign neglect & condescension, Clifford Odets' rep is very much on the rise these days. So it’s nice to see that this slightly gentled version of his supposedly shopworn meller (‘Will the kid put down the fiddle and make with the gloves?’) plays better than it has in a very long time. The dated elements have acquired period charm, even the forced lines of purple prose and the over-scaled theatrical perfs now make you smile rather than cringe, while the basic dramatic structure is all but indestructible. The last act, in particular, has acquired unexpected emotional resonance. Barbara Stanwyck is electrifying with the debuting William Holden who is so young and handsome you worry more about him hurting his face than his hands. (A decade would pass before the shine started to crack and he became a full-fledged star.) As the desperate manager, Adolphe Menjou revels in a part that calls for more than his typical one-note professionalism. But then director Rouben Mamoulian gets tasty perfs from everyone on screen, including some black actors in non-stereotypical roles unusual for the period. Note how Mamoulian crosscuts between different races in the excellent climactic fight sequence, daring to show a basic equivalence between black & white fans.
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