I think sometimes we look at films made in the early twenties through rose-tinted spectacles. We are inclined to forgive much as these film makers and actors really were at the cutting edge of development of this most embryonic phase of the art. This, however, is not so easily forgiven. It tells the tale of a womanising gentleman "Beau" (Lewis Stone) - who has a bet with his young son "Dick" (Lloyd Hughes) that he can affect a liaison with a woman, "Betty" (Kathleen Kirkham), on whom the son is keen, despite him already having a relationship with the unhappily married "Alice" (Florence Vidor). What ensues is a reasonably paced - to be fair - but rather dull, cynical, tale that presents us with pretty much the worst of human nature, and on a budget too! It ought to be a testament to the acting abilities on screen that the odiousness of the characters is writ so large, but somehow it doesn't work. It goes through the motions that ought to arouse passion, fury, lust - you name it - but this has a sterility to it. Even the longing glances and grand gestures come across as "I want to go home" expressions. It's only an hour, and if only to put other, far better, cinema of it's time in perspective, it is worth a watch, just don't expect much and you won't be disappointed.