Cult Review
Senior Film Conservator

If you have any interest in old Hollywood, this is a fun ten-minute distraction. If you’re looking for a plot, you’ll hate it. There isn't even a whisper of a story here.
It’s just a collection of famous faces doing absolutely nothing important. Olivia de Havilland is there. Irene Dunne shows up too. They’re mostly just standing around looking posh while the camera tries not to look too invasive.
There’s this odd, detached feeling to the whole thing. It’s like watching your wealthy grandparents' home movies, but your grandparents happen to be the biggest icons of the 1930s.
The transition between the Newport yacht basin opening and a dog show in Palm Springs is so abrupt it’s kind of funny. One second you're looking at a boat, then boom—poodles. It’s not smooth, but that’s the charm, I guess.
Some of these stars look like they have no idea what they're supposed to be doing. You can see them glance at the camera, then look away, then try to look natural again. It’s awkward. I loved it.
It reminded me a bit of the frantic, forced energy in In the Spotlight where everyone is just trying to stay visible. Everyone here is polished to a shine, yet they feel more human than the scripts they were probably reading at the time.
It’s not a movie in the way we think of them now. It’s a document. A little piece of Hollywood vanity preserved in amber. It’s worth a look if you want to see what 'celebrity' meant before Instagram made it so exhausting.
Honestly? It’s just nice to see people not acting for a change. Well, mostly not acting. 📸
Year
1936
IMDb Rating
—

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Deciphering the legacy of transgressive cult cinema.
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