Classic case of the wrong director. This kind of Depression era, small town babe on the make in the Big City type stuff needs a light, breezy, sassy Roy Del Ruth or Mervin Le Roy. Instead, the job's been outsourced to heavy Clarence Brown and after a good beginning, with Skeets Gallagher excellent as the jaded roue Mad Hatter who lures Joan Crawford's poor Pennsylvanian down the rich rabbit hole, things get melodramatic and dull with a general lack of humor or pzazz in usually good Lenore Coffey's script. Plus this film is asking the viewer to buy that there actually exists a world where a girl would throw over Clark Gable for Wallace Ford! Incredible. Give it a C.