Laurence Olivier, young and slender and dashing, plays an utter jerk in this pre-Code romance, and plays the jerk all too well. A struggling writer, we'd call him manic-depressive today, and his mood swings.doom his marriage to.svelte Ann Harding, stuck playing another of the doting-wife parts she loathed. They divorce after another of many screaming matches, and she marries nice Irving Pichel, who's rich, worshipful of her, and more tolerant of his wife's many encounters with her now-successful ex-husband than he ought to be. This is the sort of movie where a) the characters keep meeting and re-meeting under the unlikeliest of circumstances, b) they age some 10 years, but their looks, the fashions, the cars, etc., never change, and c) we're supposed to root for Harding and Olivier to reunite, which is in fact what happens, though clearly she'd be happier with Pichel, who will be miserable if she leaves him, and the reunited couple are just going to keep on fighting. Plus, she indulges in some decidedly suspect canoodling with Olivier while still married to Pichel. It's indifferently directed, buoyed somewhat by a typical early ZaSu Pitts supporting role, and over before you know it. Well, thank heaven for that.