Mandalay

If you feel a bit dozy watching Mandalay, you're probably reproducing the state in which the screenwriters produced this lackluster script. Samples: "I was a coward. I ran away. But I couldn't run away from myself." "None of that matters to me. (pause) As long as I have you."

The dialogue, however, hasn't been through the mill as often as Kay Francis. Once more, she suffers! She is betrayed! She lives a life of shame! But, boy, does she clean up, with an arm that looks like a jewelry display for diamond bracelets and a wardrobe heavy on the sequins, satin, and chiffon--with a little embroidered organdie number for when she is Redeemed. I don't know how she did it, but Kay always had more sophisticated evening gowns than anyone, even Joan Crawford. There is also a number that out-Dietrich's Dietrich, when she sweeps into the police commissioner's office in a skin- tight gown, a hat the size of a cartwheel, and a fan half as big as she is!

This and some incidental players and pleasures (Ruth Donnelly, Hermann Bing, Rafaele Ottianao) make Mandalay agreeable enough. But what dumb dialogue--when someone knocks on Kay's door and calls her with a name by which she is known only to one person, she not only asks who it is but is shocked to see him when she opens the door! Never mind, just go with the flow, like Kay.