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Proof of Greta Garbo's incredible, irreplaceable star quality can be found in The Painted Veil, a film that she singlehandedly makes worth watching. It's not that Garbo is absolutely the only thing of any worth in Veil. For example, Herbert Marshall does very well indeed as the great star's husband, a dedicated, self-sacrificing doctor who nevertheless lets us see how stung he can be by his wife's inattention. Marshall provides an excellent, if lesser, partner for Garbo and his contribution shouldn't be downplayed. But he still essentially exists so that Garbo has something to play off of, to play against, to play with -- and play she does. It's amazing the volumes that the actress can convey with a mere hunched shoulder, demonstrating in one move the tremendous, unbearable weight that she feels upon her. Her performance in the dinner scene, in which she worries over how much her husband suspects or, God forbid, knows, is mesmerizing. Granted, her work in some way could be seen as showboating, but that's what this material calls for, and no one showboats like Garbo. The screenplay is so much nonsense, even substituting a tacked-on happy ending for the "downer" that W. Somerset Maugham originally penned. But Garbo, aided by a lush production and attentive photography from William H. Daniels, makes it very palatable indeed.