A little girl worships at a shrine to her dead mother, who she barely remembers. An absent-minded, but kindly seeming foreign scientific sort, lives a lonely life in a big mansion researching drugs, and brushing off the advances of women who want to share his life. When scientist goes off to a Chicago convention, he bumps into tipsy, embittered Merele Oberon, and begins to remember THIS LOVE OF OURS.
Soap operas and melodrama, except for those made by Douglas Sirk and his acolytes Fassbinder and Haynes, or starring Bettie or Joan, get little respect. This one, directed by the always unfashionable William Dieterle, and starring the beautiful but is she really acting Merele Oberon, languishes in obscurity. And that obscurity is unfair -- Oberon, who by virtue of her looks and style always seems a bit mysterious, is perfect for a role in which her character and virtuousness are, by the author and director's intent, in question.
Frankly, the structure of this movie is fascinating, but causes the movie to be a bit slow in its opening reels, and to concentrate on a character who is, as the English would put it, a bit thick. The opening dull patches, however, are rewarded when Claude Rains appears (in a role that is also initially ambiguous). Also, this movie has one of the sexier "cute meets" in 40s pictures, as our hero is called upon to bandage showgirl Oberon's sprained ankle, and can't stop paying attention to Oberon's very fine leg.
To tell much more about an obscure movie that relies on its surprises for its theme is just not fair. It is worth the time, if only to witness that the soap opera can offer as many plot twists as the thriller, and can make them an integral part of the theme.
Worth rediscovering. Maybe it will find its way to TCM.
