Many of the films of director Frank Borzage embarrass some modern viewers with their unabashed romanticism and sentimentality, so those who fall into this category may want to avoid Little Man, What Now? However, despite the fact that its title is almost unbearably sappy, Man will delight fans of Borzage's work. This is one director who never met a weepie he didn't like, and with good reason: he had a special affinity for melancholy, semi-tragic romances. In Borzage's hands, the banal can become magical, and even the most manipulative story is capable of grabbing the sympathetic viewer. This is definitely the case with Man, which is thoroughly enmeshed in Borzage's worldview of love as the most important thing -- indeed, the ONLY thing -- in the world. At times florid but never gushy (a difficult combination to pull off), Man tugs at the heartstrings, producing both joy and tears, and leaving most viewers quite content. Certainly there's nothing to complain about in the silvery performance of Margaret Sullavan, weaving her special web of wistful wonderment with a delicate hand that is totally captivating. Opposite her, Douglass Montgomery is just the slightest bit wan, but he also manages to bring a fine, raw quality to his work that is valuable in several scenes. The supporting cast, including Alan Hale and DeWitt Jennings, is quite fine.