Standard Southernoid shtick, (kinda like "Little Foxes" with a pre frontal lobotomy). The only thing that stands out, as discerning previous reviewers have noted, is the delightfully decadent villainy of Melvyn Douglas, serving to remind me of what a truly fine actor he is. I mean, the guy can do drama and comedy, smarm and charm, Brit or Creole or German or Texan, and, like Lancaster, he didn't get really good until he was in his sixties. Next to him Ava is a lovely, seductive afterthought and even Mitchum, as per usual when he's in a crappy movie, decides the wisest course is to hightail it to the nearest phone booth (think there's one on the corner of Bourbon and Bienville) for phone in purposes. Solid C.
Review of My Forbidden Past
