Powell plays an American ex-pat living in Paris. A gentleman in outward appearance, he’s the secret publisher of a well-read scandal sheet, and earns his living blackmailing wealthy tourists to keep their names out of it. A chance meeting with his latest mark’s daughter—played by Lombard—forces him to reconsider his life.
Powell and Lombard met and fell in love on this film, marrying three months after its premier. Their few scenes together sparkle, but the film fails to exploit their chemistry.
Compounding matters, despite only running an hour and fourteen minutes, useless shots of folks walking across rooms, down halls, and up stairs abound. Combined with the film’s lack of a score, these bits amount to dead air and left me impatient.
I’ll admit, I liked the gutsy ending, but it proved too little too late.