Extraordinarily sentimental tearjerker set in Philadelphia during the Civil War. Bette Davis has a brief affair with a Union soldier (George Brent) who is killed in action, and she has a child outside of marriage. This daughter is brought up as part of the family of Bette's manipulative cousin (Miriam Hopkins). Davis becomes the austere aunt of the girl who learns to love instead her mother-by-proxy.
And Bette grows old and shrewish, almost a monster. Davis was always better matched by another female star. No one ever cast George Brent opposite her for sexual chemistry or with an eye on cinematic mythology. Hopkins is a fine adversary, as she pecks away at her cousin's soul. This is something of a horror film, where the most terrifying outcome possible for a woman is to grow old without a child, without a husband.
And that brings a lot of suspense. Of course the focus is Bette's extraordinary performance as she (tastefully) ages from a girl with dreams into an elderly woman driven by bitterness. She has a powerful, intimidating presence. There's a touch of the gothic in her.
It's a period melodrama located on the home front in the Civil War, and with the onset of WWII, it was a premonition of sacrifices to come. It takes place away from the fighting in domestic situations. Bette's usual costumer Orry-Kelly creates a riot of crinoline and lace. Corsets are tight. Max Steiner scores. It's a handsome Warner Brother's production, and while ultra-conventional, it's still a heartbreaker.