One Sunday Afternoon (1933) is a rather slow, uninteresting effort. While I adore Fay Wray and Gary Cooper, neither is allowed to do much here. Cooper's main character is rather boorish and unlikable, so dumb that you can hardly root for or sympathize with him. You could argue that this is intentional, but I don't get the feeling that it is: during the finale when Cooper is supposed to see the light so to speak, I don't feel triumphant for him or his wife. I'm not even sure he really ever loved her or will love her-- he's just happy his wife isn't a shrew or a tramp! Wray gets to chew the scenery a little in the third act, but otherwise, she is wasted.
The plot just rattles along from plot point to plot point. You're better served with the 1941 remake starring James Cagney and Rita Hayworth, which had a much lighter atmosphere and better pacing, plus the main character does not come across as such a lout.
The plot just rattles along from plot point to plot point. You're better served with the 1941 remake starring James Cagney and Rita Hayworth, which had a much lighter atmosphere and better pacing, plus the main character does not come across as such a lout.