After 21 movies and three years of working in Hollywood Bette Davis finally got a role she claimed as her own and which put her as a force to be reckoned with. As Mildred Rogers, Davis burst forth with a completely unsympathetic role of a slutty waitress who becomes the target of Leslie Howard's affections, and already eager to sink her teeth into a role like this, she had no qualms of the awful things her character was meant to do throughout the course of the film and the awful transformation she would undergo. It also has been widely noted that her performance here, one of the few things that makes this slightly uneven movie watchable, has been the one to remember even after two remakes and the scenes where she rips into Howard have made cinema history.<br /><br />At circa 85 minutes, the story moves at a nice pace, telling the story of Philip Carey (Howard) as his life crosses that of the destructive Mildred Rogers over and over again.<br /><br />Howard and Davis' chemistry is all but non-existent -- Davis sustained in an interview much later in life she personally didn't care much for Howard's iciness towards her and that helped her act even worse (in character) towards him as Mildred. All the same, the two seem awkward with one another; their scenes together remain stiff, only salvaged by the ferocious acidity Davis brings to her lines and her own nervous presence. Then again, Cromwell's direction has a certain stiltedness about itself that fails to come through at times -- he tries to fill in some space (whenever Davis is not there) with dissolves and montages indicating the passing of time (a calendar superimposed over a changing Frances Dee). All much in the style back then. This was before technicalities and complicated camera angles came into being, and in essence, the visual story is a simplified, bare essentials translation of the Somerset Maugham's novel -- which is saying a lot, since at 600 pages, "Of Human Bondage" would have been indeed hard to film even then.<br /><br />Storywise, it feels that Philip Carey may be something of a glutton for punishment, since there is no discernible, sexual attraction between he and Mildred and to compound that, Mildred never hides her displeasure from the get-go. Howard's performance never seems to go through much external emotion -- his eyes are constantly sad, his expression never veers too far away from lost (he could almost be a distant cousin to William Hurt in "The Accidental Tourist" -- dejected, hurt, and absolutely passive), but this is possibly a part of his character and the reason he fails to see that other women (played by Kay Johnson and Frances Dee) are making themselves vulnerable to unrequited affections. Interestingly, Johnson's Norah, once she realizes Carey will never fall for her, is the one who sums the story up with her observation that people are bound to other people -- she is bound to Carey as Carey is bound to Mildred, and Mildred herself is bound to Miller (or men who fit the role of provider). In her short but memorable scene, she's the one who holds the essence of the story's moral.