Along in 1931 a man named Frederick Lewis Allen catalogued the events of a changing American from 1919 through the 29th of October 1929, and titled his book "Only yesterday." Some three years later a movie man out West got hold of a copy and thought he might make a swell movie out of it. Strangely enough, he was almost right. The film at the R. K. O. Keith's justifies much of its ballyhoo.

The heavy in the show is a much improved John Boles who makes love to a newcomer, Margaret Sullavan, with plenty of savoir and no little wissen. Miss Sullavan shows herself a capable mime. She has a certain un-Holly-woodian freshness about her, a spontaneity found all too seldom in screen stars. She delivers her lines with sparkling zest, and can look and without looking stupid. Only on the deathbed scene does she become a bit wearying. Her face is just pretty--not beautiful, but attractive. her figure is, of course, flawless, and she wears clothes as they should be worn. The stars are well backed up by Billie Burke and Reginald Denny, who put on a bit of pleasant comedy to alleviate the pressure of tragic theme.

The theme is a threadbare one. Young Margaret is wronged by smoothie John, way down in Virginia; smoothie John, sensibly enough, proceeds, to forget all about his deed, he being a soldier, and there being a war in France. He comes back, handsome as over, but still forgets, and Margaret and Sonny toddle along on their own. Finally, she dies, and this accident, plus the Stock Market crackup brings Boles around. The last we see of him is a paternal scene with John taking care of the irritable little Mistake. What would have been a blithery piece is rescued by Margaret Sullavan, and the more credit to her.