Had the director credit read Ed Wood and not, as it does, William Dieterle, I would have thought it one of Wood's worst efforts. How anyone involved would want to include this debacle on their CV is beyond me. In its favour we do get some film buffs treasures; Basil Sydney, looking as though he wandered onto the wrong soundstage while shooting Hamlet and wondering why he is suddenly in the wrong costume; Cedric Hardwicke, slightly aloof and apart, as if he is being filmed against the blue background that wasn't available at the time; a pair of gorgeous hams in Charles Laughton and Judith Anderson, chewing not only the scenery on their own set but also that on adjacent sound stages, and, of course, Stewart Granger, supercilious as ever, barely managing to conceal his built-in arrogance. This leaves Rita, alone, isolated, getting no help whatsoever from the rest of the cast, still managing to shine and glow in a meaningless cause.