6.5/10
Senior Film Conservator

A definitive 6.5/10 rating for a film that redefined the boundaries of cult cinema. Metropolitan remains a cornerstone of transgressive art.
If you have a soft spot for 1930s musical dramas or just want to hear Lawrence Tibbett sing, you’ll probably have a decent time. If you need a movie that makes logical sense, stay away. This thing is a total chaotic mess of ambition and bad decisions.
It’s not exactly The Wedding March, and honestly, that’s fine. It’s got this weird, jerky rhythm that makes you wonder if they were just filming scenes as they thought of them.
The transition from normal dialogue to full-blown opera is always jarring. It’s like the characters are just vibrating with repressed music until they can’t take it anymore. Tibbett is doing a lot of heavy lifting here. You can see him trying to steer the ship while everyone else is busy being incredibly dramatic about their career choices.
There is this one moment in the second act that goes on for way too long. The camera just sits there on a reaction shot until it’s almost uncomfortable. It feels like the director just wandered off to get a coffee and forgot to yell cut.
It’s not a masterpiece. It doesn’t even really try to be. It just exists as this snapshot of people screaming into microphones and hoping for a hit. Sometimes that’s enough to keep me watching, even when the story feels like it’s being held together by duct tape and high notes. 🎭
It reminds me a bit of the frantic pacing in Going Up where the energy is high but the actual substance is pretty thin. If you’re bored on a Tuesday, go for it. Just don’t expect to remember much of the plot by Wednesday.