Anny Ondra, eh? What a woman.
The plot of Hitchcock's last silent movie reads like a storyline from the unaccountably popular Brit soap 'EastEnders.' Even though she doesn't really love him, Kate (the truly delectable Anny Ondra), a flirtatious pub landlord's daughter, rashly promises to wait for her young beau Pete (a hulking Carl Brisson) to return from Africa where he plans to go to make his fortune after the surly pub landlord refuses him her hand in marriage. She loves Philip (Malcolm Keen), an up-and-coming lawyer who just happens to be Pete's best mate and who also reciprocates her feelings of ardour. Lord only knows what she sees in him though, as he comes across as something of a stuffed shirt and looks like Piers Fletcher-Dervish. Anyway, word comes from Africa that Pete has died, leaving Kate and Philip free to declare their love for one another – something neither had felt able to do when poor old Pete was alive.
Of course, this being an opera of the soapiest kind, it turns out the jungle drums got it wrong and Pete isn't dead after all! He returns to the Isle of Man a wealthier man, instantly making himself more acceptable to Kate's father. Now this is where you'd think Kate and Philip would come clean – after all, they thought Pete was dead – but instead they keep quiet about their affair and Kate marries Pete out of a sense of obligation.
There's plenty more plot to follow, but suffice it to say that a lot of hand-wringing and soul-searching follows. And either Kate and Phil were still at it after Pete returned from Africa, or Pete's too thick to do the maths and release that he was still ocean-bound when his loving wife conceived.
The plot summary above actually makes the film sound more interesting than it really is. Everyone over-acts terribly, and all the characters are too shallowly drawn to be of much interest. The plot grows increasingly silly as coincidence is piled upon contrivance, and the downbeat ending proves an inadequate pay-off.
