Tim Brayton’s review published on Letterboxd:
It's a pretty naff script, but King Vidor directs it with a firm hand that gives it a gently tragic bent. Scene after scene plays out with a curt realism about human shortcomings, but also a great deal of affection for the characters (there's only one "bad" person, and that has more to do with Ralph Bellamy's embarrassingly broad attempt at old country conservatism and a Polish accent than the way the script or the direction handle him). The decision to let scenes play out in moderately deep wide shots rather than dissect them through close-ups is unexpected for '35, and pays great dividends: there's a scene where Walter Brennan, in the foreground, talks over a phone call that Helen Vinson is having in the midground, as she amusedly reports what he's saying, that strikes me as bizarrely generous and interested in human activity, and it's even better in the moments where the actual melodrama is going on. It's ultimately limited by its strange approach to ethnic tension, and it's not remotely surprising that contemporary audiences had no use for its lack of sentiment and willingness to let Gary Cooper play hard, ugly emotions, but I'm happy to mark this as another overlooked success from a director I have come to trust more than just about any other American of his generation.