Ginger Rogers got her Oscar not (heaven forfend!) for her dancing or her sense of mischief & fun, but for playing against type in this uplifting weepie in the Joan Crawford/M-G-M tradition of the single working gal who falls for the rich boss while Joe Regular pines for her at home. Pulling back on her naughty appeal & primping with a nobly trembling chin, Ginger’s hardly at her best, but her quiet grief when told of the death of her just born son (just legitimate, too) won her the big prize. (Actually, as the charming, if too obedient scion of society, Dennis Morgan gives the pic’s best perf.) If you need to see Rogers choose a spouse, try the following year’s spry & delicious TOM, DICK OR HARRY. There’s our Ginger.
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