Good writers, sparkling cast, Cukor direction, all the luxe trappings of MGM, but this attempted soufflé of a comedy is unworthy of Garbo, and probably helped speed her exit from Hollywood. Metro tries to domesticate her, to make her more of a Jean Arthur-Claudette Colbert sort of spunky dame, and she's certainly capable, but we know she's capable of so much more. Some post-production tampering on behalf of the Production Code renders the story meaningless--if Douglas knows of Garbo's deception, why doesn't he just confront her with it and end the movie?--and their relationship is an unconvincing yes-you-love-me-no-you-don't mishmash. Too, Douglas's character, though meant to represent appealing American manhood circa 1941, is rather a rotter--deceptive, callous, impatient, faithless--and while Douglas surely has the requisite charm, he doesn't make me like this guy. Constance Bennett provides some glamor and dry wit, and Ruth Gordon and Roland Young, stuck in conventional supporting roles, kill time amiably. But the novelty appeal of seeing Garbo in a swimsuit, Garbo dancing the Chica- Choca, Garbo playing a sort-of double role, isn't enough to save the picture.
Review of Two-Faced Woman
