This serving of true love on a technicolor platter, is just a little more than routine. Ingrid Bergman and Joseph Cotten, though uninspired, still show a high degree of polish and workmanship. And the same can be said of Alfred Hitchcock, who directed the picture. The latter is responsible for a few deft touches, but did little else to add artistic interest.

The story takes us back to the any-man's-land of Australia at the turn of the last century. In the course of eloping with the stable boy (Joseph Cotten) at her English home, Ingrid Bergman had shot one of her brothers who objected to her marrying beneath herself. Cotten took the blame and was promptly shipped off to Australia as a galley slave. Ingrid went there and, working in a pursuit which she did not care to elaborate upon, finally earned enough to buy his freedom.

Since Australia was a place where no questions were asked, Cotten soon became a financial success, but failed to gain social recognition because of his rough manners. This combination of circumstances caused Ingrid Bergman to be very despondent and constantly drunk, until the "other man" played by Michael Wilding, came along. After helping her back to sanity, making a pass, and surviving an accidental bullet in his belly, Wilding went back to England, leaving the couple to relative happiness as they walked into the sunset.

The psychology, the characters and the dialogue matched the profundity of the story. But to one who is slightly inured to moviemaker ways, this movie was by no means distasteful, except for such flagrant cliches as: "Hold your head high; we're not beaten yet."