Mayhem and yellow faces are allied for eternity in the card files of the Amalgamated American Cinematic Producers Inc. The "Son-Daughter" follows an ancient and well worn path. There are hatchet-men lurking in every misty street; twitching bodies are hurled from burly coaches into squalid streets; gentlemen with slanted eyes find their necks stretched in uncomfortable machines while a merry troop of rats nibbles their big toes; there is the sparse fellow with a shredded wheat beard who carries poison under his finger nails. And just because 5000 miles away a Revolution is being conducted in China, all the male characters in this play meet violent deaths. If one were not cinematically informed as to Chinese proclivities, he would be sorely tempted to apply the word melodrama.

The plot, though hackneyed, receives a sincere portrayal from the principals. A nice modicum of reserve in every detail of acting prevents, happily, the full realization of the chance for gross emotionalism. Such a background, of course, forms a perfect foil behind any genuine female charm, and Miss Helen Hayes takes full advantage of her chance. She is an unconvincing Chinese, but a superb mistress of the situation. Lien Wah's delicately expressive hands, and quaint self obliteration weave an incapable feminine charm through all the mess of uninteresting Oriental gore.

The accompanying feature, "Tonight is Ours" demonstrates again that the team of Colbert and March can cope successfully with most discouraging material. As in the "Son-Daughter" the call of patriotism breaks the thread of true love, but this time the outcome is comic. The plot is, of course, impossible; but that is inconsequential. For the lovelorn there is much gush; for the cynical there is a dash of Noel Coward's sophistication; for the ladies there is always the Colbert wardrobe.