The Shopworn Angel is a treacly and often unbelievable romance, redeemed by its luminous trio of stars. Waldo Salt's screenplay is manipulative to a fault, filled with plot points that are simply too artificial: can anyone honestly believe that Margaret Sullavan's character would really agree to marry James Stewart's soldier? The story's machinations force the actors to behave in ways that stretch credulity, with Sullavan and Walter Pidgeon asked to be Noble with a capital N and Stewart required to be Naïve (similarly capitalized). Fortunately, these three manage to pull it off -- and then some. Sullavan makes even the most extreme change of heart seem believable, and she finds surprising levels in even the most mundane sequences. Stewart is one of the few actors who could make such a hayseed into a living and breathing human being, and if Pidgeon is somewhat less successful than his co-stars, he still humanizes a stick figure very well. While Angel's limitations keep it from soaring, the actors manage to make it glide along quite nicely. (Fans of Mary Martin may also want to give Angel a whirl; the Broadway legend provides Sullavan's singing voice.)