This now gets marketed as film noir though crime is not central to the story. It's one of the social issue melodramas which became popular in Hollywood in the '50s, usually about addiction. Here, the title tells all. Barbara Stanwyck starts gambling to research a news story, and pretty soon loses everything the postwar housewife desires.
It's a wild ride as curiosity leads to excitement and then addiction, lies and shame, all the way down to the street. Though over the two year flashback into her downfall, she does a whole lot of living after her husband abandons her in Mexico, including getting mixed up with a mob of racetrack gamblers. Until prostitution... and worse.
So it's a familiar saga, and there is plenty of editorialising as the dangers of addiction are laid bare. There are no surprises, though it's interesting to see the way people lost their shirt in Vegas back when it was still a shiny new racket. This being the postwar period there is some Freudian MacGuffin about a childhood trauma that makes the good girl go bad.
The photography is functional rather than expressive, and the score is inappropriately romantic. Robert Preston is suitably dull as the stalwart husband, though Stephen McNally engages as the oleaginous casino boss/crook. Stanwyck is too old, but is the source of most of the quality, and all of the fireworks, in a wholehearted, yet detailed performance.