Hollywood loves a remake, but sometimes the timing is just cursed. When people think of Somerset Maugham’s masterpiece on screen, they usually gravitate toward Bette Davis’s career-defining 1934 turn or the 1964 version with Kim Novak. But the of human bondage movie 1946 adaptation exists in this weird, liminal space of cinema history. It’s the "middle child" of the trio. It had a massive budget, a major studio behind it, and a leading lady who was practically royalty at Warner Bros., yet it vanished into the shadows of its predecessors.
Why?
Honestly, it's complicated. You've got Paul Henreid—fresh off Casablanca and Now, Voyager—playing Philip Carey, the club-footed medical student with a penchant for self-destruction. Opposite him is Eleanor Parker as Mildred Rogers, the waitress who treats him like dirt and keeps coming back for more. It’s a toxic relationship before we had a word for it. It’s messy. It’s frustrating. And for a 1946 audience coming off the highs of a world war, maybe it was just a little too bleak.
The shadow of Bette Davis and the 1934 legacy
You can't talk about the of human bondage movie 1946 without mentioning Bette Davis. Seriously. In 1934, Davis took the role of Mildred and basically invented the "unlikable female lead." She was screechy, pale, and genuinely terrifying. She set a bar so high that any actress following her was essentially walking into a buzzsaw.
Eleanor Parker knew this. Warner Bros. knew this.
When the 1946 production started, the pressure was immense. Parker was a phenomenal actress—often called the "Woman of a Thousand Faces"—but she was playing a character that the public had already identified with Davis’s specific brand of vitriol. Parker’s Mildred is different. She’s perhaps more realistic, more grounded in a certain type of cockney desperation, but she lacked the "lightning in a bottle" shock value that Davis brought a decade earlier.
The critics in 1946 were brutal. They didn't just review the movie; they compared it, frame by frame, to the original. This is a classic case of a remake being strangled by the ghost of its past. If the 1934 version didn't exist, we’d probably remember the 1946 film as a high-water mark for post-war melodrama. Instead, it’s a footnote.
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Paul Henreid and the problem of the leading man
Paul Henreid was a heartthrob. He was the guy who lit two cigarettes at once in Now, Voyager. He was Victor Laszlo. Putting him in the role of Philip Carey, a man defined by his physical disability and his utter lack of backbone when it comes to women, was a massive risk.
Philip is supposed to be pathetic.
In the novel, Maugham writes Philip as a sensitive, almost masochistic soul. Henreid, despite his best efforts, carries an innate dignity that makes it hard to believe he’d let a waitress like Mildred ruin his life. There’s a disconnect there. You want him to just stand up and walk away, whereas, with Leslie Howard in the 1934 version, you felt the inescapable gravity of his obsession.
The 1946 film attempts to compensate for this with high production values. The sets are lush. The cinematography is moody and noir-adjacent, reflecting the dark psychological undertones of the story. But movies are built on chemistry. While Parker and Henreid are individually great, their "bondage"—the emotional tether that keeps them together—feels more like a script requirement than a visceral, agonizing need.
Censorship and the Hays Code: Pulling the punches
Here is the thing about the of human bondage movie 1946 that really hindered its lasting impact: the Production Code. By 1946, the "Hays Code" was in full swing, and it was significantly more restrictive than it had been in the early 30s.
Mildred Rogers is a character who descends into "ruin." In the book, that ruin is explicit. It involves sex work, poverty, and eventually, the devastating effects of syphilis. The 1946 film has to dance around this. It uses shadows, vague dialogue, and "polite" illness to hint at her downfall.
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- The 1934 version: Pre-Code sensibilities allowed for a rawer, uglier portrayal of Mildred’s profession and illness.
- The 1946 version: Everything is sanitized. Mildred looks a bit tired rather than deathly ill. The "shame" is social rather than visceral.
When you sanitize a story about a man’s obsession with a "bad" woman, you lose the stakes. If she’s not that bad, he’s not that crazy for loving her. The 1946 version ends up feeling like a high-end soap opera rather than the grueling psychological study Maugham intended.
The Director's Vision: Edmund Goulding
Edmund Goulding was no slouch. He directed Grand Hotel. He knew how to handle an ensemble and how to wring emotion out of a scene. In the 1946 Of Human Bondage, he leans heavily into the Victorian atmosphere. He wants us to feel the fog of London, the coldness of the medical school, and the claustrophobia of Mildred’s apartment.
He succeeds in making a beautiful film. It’s gorgeous to look at. But beauty might have been the enemy here. The story is supposed to be ugly. By making it "prestige cinema," Goulding accidentally stripped away the grit.
Why you should actually watch it anyway
Despite the flaws, the of human bondage movie 1946 is a fascinating artifact. If you're a fan of 1940s melodrama, it’s a masterclass in studio-era craftsmanship.
Eleanor Parker’s performance is actually quite brave. She doesn't try to be likable. In an era where female stars were expected to be "the girl next door" or the "femme fatale," Parker plays Mildred as a woman who is simply miserable and makes everyone around her miserable too. There is no hidden heart of gold. There is no redemption arc. She is just... Mildred.
And then there’s the supporting cast. Alexis Smith and Janis Paige provide the "healthy" alternatives for Philip, highlighting just how dysfunctional his attraction to Mildred really is. These performances give the film a texture that the earlier version lacked. It feels like a more populated world.
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How to find and watch the 1946 version today
Finding the 1946 version isn't as easy as finding the Bette Davis one. Because the 1934 film is in the public domain, it's everywhere—YouTube, bargain bins, every streaming service imaginable. The of human bondage movie 1946 version is still under tighter copyright control, usually held by the studio’s successors (Warner Bros.).
- Check Turner Classic Movies (TCM): This is your best bet. They cycle through the Maugham adaptations fairly regularly.
- Physical Media: There was a DVD release through the Warner Archive Collection. These are often "burn-on-demand" discs, but they offer the best visual quality you're going to get.
- Digital Rental: It occasionally pops up on Amazon or Apple TV for rent, but it’s hit or miss depending on your region.
The Verdict: A misunderstood middle child
The of human bondage movie 1946 isn't a bad movie. Not by a long shot. It’s a well-acted, beautifully shot drama that just happened to be born at the wrong time. It was too late to be revolutionary and too early to be "retro."
If you want the raw, unhinged version of the story, go with 1934. If you want a Technicolor, slightly more modern take, go with 1964. But if you want to see a nuanced, post-WWII interpretation of obsession—and a really underrated performance by Eleanor Parker—give the 1946 version its due. It’s a somber, professional, and ultimately tragic look at how we destroy ourselves for the people who care for us the least.
Next Steps for Film History Buffs
- Compare the "Mildred's Death" scenes: Watch the 1934 and 1946 versions back-to-back. Notice how the lighting and the makeup change to suit the censorship standards of each decade.
- Read the Maugham Novel: To truly understand why Philip is so "bondaged," you have to read the source material. The movies can only capture about 20% of his internal monologue.
- Explore Eleanor Parker’s Filmography: After watching this, check out Caged (1950). It shows just how far she could push the "unlikable" character trope when the Hays Code started to loosen its grip.
The film serves as a reminder that in Hollywood, being "good" sometimes isn't enough when you're standing in the shadow of a legend. It’s a movie about a man trapped by his emotions, produced by a studio trapped by its own success. That irony alone makes it worth a watch.
Actionable Insight: If you're researching this film for a project or a deep dive into 40s cinema, focus your attention on the Warner Archive Collection prints. The bootleg versions found on low-rent streaming sites often use degraded 16mm television prints that don't do justice to Goulding's lighting or Peverell Marley’s cinematography. Seeing the high-contrast blacks and whites as they were intended changes the entire "feel" of Philip’s depression.
Final Thought: Don't let the 1934 bias stop you. The 1946 version is a different beast entirely—less a horror show of personality and more a slow-burn tragedy of the ego. It’s time we stopped comparing it and started watching it for what it is: a solid, moody piece of post-war filmmaking.