Review of Becky Sharp

Thackeray's Vanity Fair transmogrified into a star vehicle for Miriam Hopkins. Nearly all of the other plots are cut away, leaving only traces in brief appearances of various characters. The story is revised, too, but in such a way that it's not always possible to tell what Ms. Sharp intends—does she love her husband Rawdon Crawley (Alan Mowbray) or not? or perhaps in a convenient way, that allows her to keep him and dally with others. Her connection with Lord Steyne (Cedric Hardwicke) is ambiguous, but she shows reluctance to let him proceed, and appears sad when her husband catches them together and leaves her. The presentation of her rise is too ambiguous—they do live "on nothing a year," but Mrs. Crawley's sharp practices are minimized, as if she were getting by on sheer cleverness and charm. Perhaps it's just that the Hays code won't let the screenplay even suggest an exchange of sexual favours for support, and this means that the glossing over of Becky Sharp's vicious streak turns the story into a costume drama featuring a determined and gay (in the old sense) young woman, taking on the snobs for her own advantage. And settling on bumbling Jos Sedley (Nigel Bruce) in the end, to escape with him to India or somewhere. Or perhaps it's just Miriam Hopkins, probably miscast. She affects a histrionic tone to her voice, perhaps so we will know she is acting. Not even her fine, unusual eyes redeem the messy business of this movie. She can't twinkle her way through this one.