How unpopular have Freud and Jung become in the post-Sex and the City era! Therefore, this films gets panned by the suddenly enlightened "critics". I'll give it a 10 to fix its overall score and for very good reasons: exceptional photography, extraordinary musical numbers that could have been written by the above mentioned geniuses Freud & Jung; great acting, great screenplay, spectacular costumes and sets... Really, is it so offensive that a domineering woman needs a domineering man? I personally enjoyed watching their battle. In the end, she LETS him dominate. Her Mr. Big is such a potty mouth that my jaw dropped at his insolence, but being shocked is such a pleasure - I did not expect it from a Hays Code era movie. Since feminism or misogyny are not and should never be considered art criteria, let's talk about the color palette, the deep, dark blues to pale greens and pinks of our heroine's reality to vibrant blues, gold and white of her dreams in which she dances in white and red princess dresses and her domineering man sports a purple sequined suit and top hat (her prince is busy signing autographs and the married man she wants to marry is her father figure). One needs to know the symbolism of colors - our repulsive Mr. Big who is about to tame our heroine wears a traditional feminist color. And can't freedom also be defined as a lack of fear to be dominated? "Poor is the man (or woman!) whose pleasure depends on the permission of another."

... in spite of all of the talent involved. Directed by Mitchell Leisen over at Paramount, who, by now, certainly knew how to direct Ray Milland, who showed real chemistry with star Ginger Rogers if you have ever viewed "The Major and the Minor" from two years earlier, based on a story by Moss Hart, and even giving a minor role to Warner Baxter - what went wrong when so much talent produces something that lands with such a thud? Part of it, I am sure, are the changing times. Ginger plays Liza Elliott, the editor of fashion magazine "Allure", dresses in rather mannish dresses, and keeps all men at arm's length except Kendell Nesbitt (Warner Baxter), with whom she claims to be in love. She goes to her physician saying for some reason she has become a nervous wreck, just certain that disaster is upon her. The doctor refers her to a psychiatrist, the idea of which at first she rejects. But then she has another hallucination and changes her mind. The psychiatrist, Dr. Brooks (Barry Sullivan) is really very demanding, claiming he KNOWS the meaning of Liza's dreams and problems before she is barely through telling them to him. The end lesson, with which Liza heartily agrees, is that she doesn't really love Kendall - he was just safe because he was tame as a kitten, reminded her of her dad, and was technically taken with an estranged wife who would not give him a divorce. What she needs is to be dominated by a man! The kind of man who would talk about her behind her back, embarrass her in public, and try to take her job, trying to justify his actions by claiming that a woman editor "flies in the face of nature" - in short, a real heel, Charley Johnson (Ray Milland). So it turns out that every Virginia Slims girl is just looking for the Marlboro Man according to this film.Well, if I am going to watch the films of 1944, I had better be prepared to deal with the values of 1944. I think what made the movie a difficult slog for me were all of the elaborate yet dull tableaux numbers with completely untuneful songs and the extended dream sequences. They were meant to explain Liza's predicament from her point of view, but I just found myself staring at my watch and getting restless.This whole film is just a case of reverse synergy. And one more thing. I do wish Liza had sprung up off of her analyst's couch and said "I get it doctor! The reason I am avoiding long term commitments with men and dressing in drab clothes is ...I am gay!" And then ran out of the room. Not in 1944. Not with Joe Breen as head censor.I'd say if you are a film history buff it is probably worth it just to say you've seen it, to be able to cite an example of a film that should have worked and failed. For the viewer just wanting to be entertained, I'd look elsewhere.

"Lady in the Dark" is a curiosity. The circus sequence with "The Saga of Jenny" gives a taste of what the movie version of the Broadway show might have been like (as other commentators have noted, the song is the sole survivor of the Broadway score by Weill and Gershwin, aside from snatches of "My Ship" and "Suddenly it's Spring", and a verse from "Once Life to Life" which Ginger Rogers recites). Ginger is a knockout, even in her "plain" business suits. The visual design is so rich you could swim in it- it was lovely to see the 40s magazine design as well as the sets. And the costumes! The sequin lined mink skirt is stunning, and so is the gown in the wedding sequence. The psychoanalysis storyline is well handled for a movie made in this period when analysis was strange and frightening to the audience. However, what could have been an exquisite soufflé is let down by the bizarre decision to cut all but one of the numbers and the development of the plot. It suggests that women are miserable in business suits and are far happier wearing frou frou gowns and being "dominated" by men (its terminology, not mine). I will say in the plot's defense (if I may take Ray Milland's part in the circus sequence for a moment) that it doesn't have Ginger pairing off with irresistible but insecure movie star Randy Curtis. When she announced that she was going to marry him and give up her job I yelled out, "You'll be sorry!" The writers recognize that Randy and staying home to be a housewife (even a Hollywood one) would bore Ginger's character out of her tree. Her sparring colleague is a far better choice, and there's a hint in the final that perhaps neither Ray or Ginger will dominate the other, but be partners in running the magazine (they're both overwhelmed with enthusiasm for it). But this hint of equality isn't enough to redeem Ray's earlier nastiness to Ginger, or the tone of misogyny. The movie still comes down with a thud, like Ginger at the end when Ray takes her chair.

A Technicolor spectacular, with costumes and wonderful sets to match, but the story isn't much, mostly what you might expect to read in Popular Psychoanalysis magazine.Best are the dream and reverie sequences, especially the trial in the circus ring. These are where the singing and dancing is, but there is not much and what little there is is not very exciting.