"Chained," which has as its leading lights Joan Crawford and Clark Gable, is a handsome production, with fine views of steamship travel and others of ranch life in South America. Miss Crawford adds to the general attractiveness of the scenes of this Capitol offering by an unusually extensive wardrobe and a variety of changes in her coiffure. But, when it comes to weighing the merits of the story, it must be said that it is just another suspenseless triangle.

So long as Miss Crawford and Mr. Gable are in a picture, it is as inevitable as the coming of night that the characters they impersonate will not be disappointing in the end. The only real surprise in this tale is concerned with the manner in which the producers are going to get rid of Miss Crawford's screen husband, Otto Kruger. And although this is managed in course of time, little can be said in favor of the logic in the somewhat abrupt turn of events.

Richard Field (Mr. Kruger), a fabulously wealthy steamship owner, is desperately in love with Diane Lovering. It happens, however, that he is married, and his wife refuses at the time to sue for a divorce. For some reason or other, Diane goes on a voyage to Buenos Aires and on the vessel she encounters Mike Bradley. If it is not a case of love at first sight, partly because Diane is still loyal to Field, it soon develops into a passionate romance. Eventually the time comes when Diane has to return to New York and, to complicate matters, Field's wife has obtained a divorce, leaving him free to marry Diane. With a sigh of gratitude, Diane becomes Mrs. Field and she lives in luxury. But the spectator knows that it is only a question of a few scenes before Bradley will turn up in New York and Mr. Field is going to be the victim of another divorce action. He is, however, a kindly soul who, being twenty years older than Bradley, apparently thinks that it is only natural that youth will be served.

Miss Crawford gives a facile performance and Mr. Gable is as ingratiating as ever. Mr. Kruger makes the most of his scenes and Stuart Erwin struggles with some absurdly feeble comedy.

On the Capitol stage the performers include Phil Spitalny's "musical ladies," the Chester Hale dancers, Eleanor Powell, Sheila Barrett, Lucille Page and Vivien Fay.

Richard Watts, Jr., in the New York Herald Tribune (1934):

    May I say that although I expect the film to make a million dollars for its producers, it seemed to me just an earnest camera treatment of a snappy serial in one of the dressier sex magazines.... Since the picture didn't even attempt to go in for credibility, no one should blame Miss Crawford or Mr. Gable for failing to give real portrayals to their romantic roles. The two stars, who certainly know their business, wisely decide to pass their time tossing charm and personality all over the place, which is obviously what the film requires for audience appeal.

Howard Mandelbaum in Bright Lights Film Journal (1997):

     Watching Chained is like flipping through a 1934 issue of Vogue. Perhaps "flip" is the wrong word, since it is directed by the sluggish Clarence Brown. The film's dramatic flow is constantly interrupted by self-conscious entrances whose sole purpose is to parade startling fashions. Also overpowering are Cedric Gibbons' gleaming white sets, which are too sleek for habitation. Whenever Chained gets bogged down in empty talk and false nobility, a battery of eye-popping Crawford close-ups are inserted. Those sculptural facial planes, when magnified, are meant to numb us into submission.