With the advent of "Doctor's Wives" the star of the ornamental Miss Joan Bennett becomes more securely fixed than ever in the cinema heaven. Although those who see her in her present vehicle at the Met may forget that she plays her role deftly and sincerely, they can never forget her beauty. She moves through the picture with a sort of child-like wonder written on her face; she strings a "line" beside which all other feminine wiles pale into insignificance; she speaks in a voice of a quality rarely found in the young actresses of today.

Warner Baxter, the physician of a thousand feminine patients, handles his role capably. "Cissy" Loftus, whose fame as a discuss was eclipsed only by Ruth Draper, plays the part of Aunt Cecilia well, but is chiefly memorable for her large black cigars, which seem to call up the spirit of Amy Lowell Victor Varconi turns in what is without a doubt the finest performance of the men in this film; one is led to wonder why he has remained so long in hiding.

The story isn't exciting or unusual, but the picture is immensely entertaining. You will enjoy the tale of the doctor who doesn't collect jades, but is collected by them. On the stage is Borace Heidt, the college idol of the middle classes and the hero of the sales girls, leading his band through some tricks. His music however, is altogether good.