Dorothy MacKail's stepmother has brought her to Biarritz to find her a rich husband, and has succeeded splendidly. The patsy..... I mean the eager groom is Lawrence Grant, a British muddy-dud with a lot of money. Miss MacKail doesn't love him, but she is willing to marry him and be a dutiful wife. However, until that happens, she's going to spend some time with hot Basque Warner Baxter, who takes her to the mountains to meet his grandmother, Nance O'Neil. Everyone thinks they're going to be married, including Mary Doran, who loves Baxter, alternately stares daggers at Miss Mackail and cries, and sullenly says "Yes, grand mere" to everything Miss O'Neil says and little else.
Miss Mackail tries to act, but doesn't get much of a chance; Baxter essays an accent for the first couple of minutes, then drops it, It took two directors and six writers to turn out this overwrought yet bland turkey. It's typical of the sort of work that was coming out of Fox Films in this period. With William Fox forced out, theater receipts dropping like stones, no one was sure what to do about anything, unless one of the studio's major directors -- Borzage, Walsh and Ford -- stood firm; even then, the constantly shrinking budgets made everything except the always competent cinematography -- here under the split command of Daniel Clark and Arthur Todd -- well, it wasn't enough.
