DbcultAccessing Vault...
6.2/10
Senior Film Conservator
A definitive 6.2/10 rating for a film that redefined the boundaries of cult cinema. Reserved for Ladies remains a cornerstone of transgressive art.
Honestly, you probably shouldn't watch Reserved for Ladies unless you're a die-hard fan of Leslie Howard or you're specifically in the mood for 1930s romantic fluff. It’s light, it’s breezy, and it’s a bit of a relic. If you’re looking for a tight, modern script, look elsewhere. But if you want to watch people in tuxedos navigate social traps, it’s a decent way to kill an afternoon.
The whole premise hinges on Howard pretending to be a prince just to impress Sylvia Robertson. It's silly, right? But the movie commits to the bit. It feels like a precursor to the kind of lighthearted confusion you see in films like Khanuma or even the social posturing of The Rebellious Bride. There’s a specific kind of politeness here that feels extinct now.
Lawrence Grossmith as the Ruritanian monarch is the highlight for me. He plays this guy who owes Howard a favor, and he just glides through scenes like he’s bored of being royalty. It’s funny because he’s the only one who doesn't seem to care about the stakes of this little lie. You can tell the actor is having a blast playing a bored king.
There is this one scene where they’re plotting the deception in a corner of a room, and the lighting is just so… dark. It feels like they’re conspiring to overthrow a government, not just tricking a dinner party guest. The contrast between the gravity of their faces and the triviality of the lie is honestly the funniest part of the whole film.
I found myself zoning out a bit during the mid-section. You know the part. The moment where the movie decides to just have people talk in drawing rooms for ten minutes straight. It’s not necessarily bad, but it drags. It doesn't have the kinetic energy of The Manicure Girl or the drama of The Green Goddess. It’s just... pleasant.
If you pay attention to the background, you’ll notice the extras sometimes have no idea what to do with their hands. It’s the kind of small, imperfect detail that makes you realize movies weren't always perfectly polished machines. It’s charmingly clumsy. 🎩
