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7.5/10
Senior Film Conservator
A definitive 7.5/10 rating for a film that redefined the boundaries of cult cinema. Man About Town remains a cornerstone of transgressive art.
If you love dusty 1930s spy melodramas with lots of tuxedos and very little actual spycraft, this is absolutely worth your time on a rainy Sunday. But if you need actual action or explosions to stay awake, you will probably hate it within ten minutes.
It's plot is wonderfully absurd. Warner Baxter plays a secret agent who decides the best way to catch international spies in Washington D.C. is to open a high-end illegal gambling joint.
It is a wildly impractical plan, but it lets everyone wear nice suits. Things get messy when his best friend—the British ambassador—starts chasing after the same mysterious Hungarian woman.
Karen Morley plays this woman, Helen, and she spends most of her screen time looking slightly dazed, like she forgot where she parked her car. You never really figure out why both these powerful men are ready to ruin their lives for her.
There is one specific moment where Baxter stares at a cigar for what feels like an eternity. He is trying to look deeply troubled, but it just looks like he is trying to remember if he left the stove on. 🚬
It has that same clunky, stagey charm you find in old silent-to-sound transition pieces like Mr. Wu. It lacks the high-seas adventure of The Social Buccaneer, choosing instead to focus on stuffy drawing rooms.
The espionage itself are hilariously low-tech. People keep leaving top-secret government papers on desks near open windows, which seems like a bad idea for professional spies.
And the gambling house itself looks tiny. It has about two tables and a roulette wheel that looks like it was borrowed from a board game.
The murder mystery at the end wraps up so fast you might actually miss it if you sneeze.
It is not a masterpiece of tension, but the vibes are immaculate. It is the kind of movie where people say things like "Indeed!" and "By Jove!" with total seriousness.
