Keith's Memorial has renewed its relations with the Crimson Moviegoer just in time to let him view and review the second week's showing of "The Magnificent Obsession." And truly magnificent it is.

There is a bit of Rosicrucian metaphysics in this picture, but love, not it, is the transforming force.

Robert Taylor begins his carcer as a debonair and very winning wastrel. And he stays in that role until his charming frivolity has indirectly caused the death of a surgeon and the blinding of the surgeon's young wife (Irene Dunne), with whom Robert has fallen thoroughly in love.

His devotion gives the rest of the picture its heart-rending strength. He throws himself into surgery, and climbs to the top. He secures Miss Dunne's fortune, and stops at nothing to restore her sight. Patiently and faithfully he pursues her, as she seeks to flee from the world. And the outcome is just what an exhausted audience, emotionally worn to a frazzle, wants and demands.

Robert Taylor's strong, dark features grin with all the sardonic glee of the cynical, hard-drinking, good-for-nothing; but later he is equally adept at registering first, tearing remorse and shame, and then calm and steadfast determination. And Irens Dunne, as his tranquil victim and ideal, gives us every nuage of her changing feeling toward him, and despond and exults to perfection. The others of the cast are fully as good as their names propels: Charles Butter worth, Betty Furness, Ralph Morga, Sara Haden, Albert Emery, Henry Armelia, and Arthur Treacher. The tenth "march of Time" vital, but not so timely, rounds out the progress.