"Sunlight" is brooding, tragic. It has two indelible characterizations of two sisters. The older woman is a tyrant who rules her home with callous indifference to the others in it. The spirit of this woman permeates every nook and corner of the house; her dried-up heart lacks human sympathy; she is hard and her hardness beats down the feeble resistance of the younger sister. The latter is confined like a prisoner in this house. He selfish sister, like the shades which bar the sunlight, has barred happiness from her soul. So when the younger sister sees that she intends to crush the romance of a young girl and spoil her life, also, she urges the girl to run off with her lover. She herself, rather than return to that hateful house, wanders off along the long, winding road to the graveyard with no protection against the blinding sun. The thoughts that go teaming through her mind, of memories of long ago, of lost happiness are delicately visualized by the director. It is tragic, sombre, a moody thing. The director has woven the skein of sadness, not with an eye towards the box-office, but with his facilities centered on the task of shaping something innately fine.