The story of "The White Raven," by Charles A. Logue, is one which presents unusually tense dramatic situations in a theme of wide human appeal. George D. Baker in screening it for the Rolfe Photoplays, Inc., has succeeded in keeping near the edge of things, as it were. The play as presented has a fine moral balance. The character of the feminine lead played by Ethel Barrymore, in pleasing contrast to the big majority of screen plays, presents a quality of almost masculine strength, a determination to follow the paths of virtue born of knowledge rather than ignorance, and a sense of honor and womanly tenderness, all of which has a general appeal and influence for good. The picture is staged in a pleasingly daring manner that is strongly realistic and savors of good red blood. Nor are we much less interested in the masculine lead played by William B. Davidson. It may be true that the role he plays has been created for the express purpose of accentuating the character of Nan Baldwin, and that his origin or attachments have not been made public property in the play. Nevertheless the character of "the stranger" who threw the card which gave him the right by her own word to possess the woman, and the woman the right to his money bags for the furtherance of her career as a singer, is one which we admire and like, in spite of any protest which reason may advance. The story, briefly outlined, has its real beginning in an incident in the life of Nan Baldwin's father, who, ruined in business by his partner (played by Walter Hitchcock) and afterward refused aid by him, goes with his young daughter to the Alaskan gold fields. Her father dying prematurely, Nan is left to earn her living in a dance hall and fired with ambition to be a great singer, and with hatred toward her father's partner, she offers herself to the winner at a card game for the money won. The innate virtue of the woman and the respect of that virtue by the man allows her to go forth unharmed, money in hand, but with the shadow hanging over her that in the hour of her triumph she will receive the two deuces with which the game was won accompanied by a demand that she return to "the stranger" in accordance to the promise which she is forced to make on regaining her freedom. In later years "the stranger" again wanders into the story, this time as an attractive society man, without any of the hallmarks of his former appearance; the result being that she falls in love with him while accomplishing the ruin of her father's former partner. In her refusal of his offer of marriage, which happens in conjunction with the arrival on the scene of the two deuces, and her return to Alaska, a pleasing climax is brought about when in the carrying out of what she believes to be her duty she comes face to face with her lover in that far-off Alaskan cabin. – The Moving Picture World, February 10, 1917