Typically fast-moving, bold Warners early talkie, helping cement its rep as the "socially conscious" studio, this is an indictment of tabloid journalism, focusing on an unscrupulous managing editor (Edward G. Robinson, superb) forced into an attack of conscience when the society wedding he's ordered an expose on--the mother of the bride murdered a boyfriend 20 years ago--results in a double suicide. Also typical of the studio, it's a tad too broad--the victimized family is just too nice, too perfect, and the murderous mom made too sympathetic. And the bride (Marian Marsh), when finally in a position to attack the paper, overacts. But it's a lively look at a hardy old form of journalism, with some excellent supporting performances--Boris Karloff as a deceitful reporter, the always-perfect Aline MacMahon as the secretary who loves boss Robinson--and a pretty realistic look at 1931, what with the speakeasies, the evening editions, the society pages. And the indictment of the tabloids hasn't dated a great deal; is what Rupert Murdoch does so very different?
Review of Five Star Final
