Henry Bellamann's account of small town life at the turn of the twentieth century, with its central themes of incest, suicide, religious fanaticism, homosexuality, euthanasia and sadism (among other less controversial topics), assured its best seller status when the book was first published in 1940. When Warner Brothers released its film version two years later, much of the story's sensational content was altered or eliminated entirely and yet the movie remained surprisingly compelling. The first part of the film concerns itself primarily with Parris Mitchell (Robert Cummings), the sensitive and idealistic doctor-in-training, and his volatile relationship with his childhood sweetheart, Cassie (played by Betty Field), and it's less successful because of the films inability to deal honestly with the demons that haunt Cassie. (The revelation that Cassie is being molested by her father is jettisoned completely and the movie, instead, settles for the explanation that Cassie is mentally ill. The frantic and desperate interludes that Parris and Cassie share, however, fevered by a kind of histrionic intensity, don't make much sense within this context and the viewer is left feeling somewhat bewildered by it all). The second part of the film, which focuses on the other major love story, that of Parris' best friend Drake (Ronald Reagan) and Randy (Ann Sheridan), the poor girl from the wrong side of the tracks, is more faithful to Bellamann's novel and altogether more satisfying. There is also a fascinating subplot, involving Drake's abandoned sweetheart, Louise (Nancy Coleman), that helps to sustain the film and propel the movie to its dynamic conclusion. Though Cummings, as Parris, is bland and overly-sincere, the movie contains what is considered to be Ronald Reagan's finest screen performance (not that the competition had been that keen) and Ann Sheridan is an immensely warm and lovely presence. The film belongs, however, to it's amazing supporting cast, comprised of some of Hollywood's finest character players: Betty Field, touching as the frightened and disturbed Cassie; the wonderful Claude Rains, beautifully underplaying as Cassie's sad, troubled father; Maria Ouspenskaya, characteristically cast as Parris' wise and loving grandmother; and, in particular, Nancy Coleman as the hysterical Louise, the sexually repressed daughter of religious fanatics (Charles Coburn and Judith Anderson). The memorable score, by Erich Wolfgang Korngold, adds immeasurably to the mood.
