A WOMAN'S FACE

New Zealand Listener, Volume 5, Issue 120, 10 October 1941, Page 17

A WOMAN'S FACE

(M.G.M.)

OAN Crawford is apparently prepared to stick at nothing to prove herself a good dramatic actress, Now, in A Woman's Face, she is a

thief, a blackmailer, a would-be murderess, a woman hideously scarred, and with a mind as warped as her face is disfigured. I think she undoubtedly is what she sets out to prove herself to be, but I felt it a pity that she (or perhaps M-G-M) thought it necessary to go to such lengths to demonstrate it. The film is undoubtedly well played, but it does strain human nature, and human credulity as well, I have not read J/ Etait Une Fois, the French original of the production, but I would be willing to wager that it has been "adapted" for the screen with typical Hollywood generosity. For I cannot believe that anyone who comes so close to child-murder as the heroine should be permitted to live happily ever after, in the best box-office tradition, In this case it may add to the dramatic interest (though that is arguable), but it does leave a nasty taste in the mouth. M-G-M got a good cast together for this film. In fact, it is the brilliant acting of the tast that is responsible for putting over this highly improbable story. Collectively and individually, they are most impressive. Joan Crawford is really outstanding as the disfigured Anna, and I don’t think she has ever done better work than some of her scenes with Conrad Veidt, though she is less at her ease in the latter part of the picture. Veidt is magnificent-I don’t think that is overstating it. He’s like something out of A Century of Creepy Stories, or perhaps I should say, out of a Century of Good Creepy Stories. Without overdoing a gesture or underlining a word, he convinces you that here at least is one who has said "Evil, be thou my Good." As the facial surgeon who restores Miss Crawford’s features and ensures a happy ending to the film (and doubtless a happy continuation of Miss Crawford’s popularity with her more superficial admirers), Melvyn Douglas is the least convincing of the main characters, but the face-saving part may be to blame. Albert Basserman and Reginald Owen are at their best. I have only seen Basserman two or three times, but I hope to see more of him and in more important parts. In films where the action is laid in a foreign country (in this case Sweden), and where the cast is heavily disguised in foreign names, it is difficult to remember who is which among the minor characters. I should like to mention, for example, one woman who takes the part of the masseuse, and does a clever and merciless piece of acting with-it. I am not sure who she was, but you could always go along and see for yourself, It would not be time wasted.