Cult Review
Senior Film Conservator

If you love staring at grainy black-and-white footage of people you barely recognize from the 30s, you’ll dig this. If you want a narrative or anything resembling a story, stay far, far away. It’s just a glorified commercial for cosmetics, really.
There’s something deeply uncomfortable about watching these stars navigate the opening of Max Factor’s new building. Everyone is smiling so hard it looks like their faces might just crack. Ralph Staub is running around trying to capture the "glamour" of it all, but mostly he just captures a lot of people standing around waiting for the cameras to stop rolling.
The makeup expert is everywhere. He’s hugging people, kissing hands, and shaking everything in sight. You can tell he knows he’s the star of this particular show. It’s funny because, in a way, this feels just as staged as something like The Mighty Barnum, only with less circus and more powder puffs.
There’s a moment where a group of actors is clearly trying to figure out where to look. They keep glancing off-camera, probably at a bored assistant or a lighting guy who’s annoyed they’re standing in the wrong spot. It’s these tiny, accidental moments that make the whole thing worth watching for like, five minutes.
The lighting is harsh. It makes everyone look like they’ve been dusted in chalk, which is ironic given the subject matter. I kept waiting for someone to just stop the act and walk away, but they never do. They just keep the charm turned up to eleven.
It’s not a film that stays with you, but it’s a weird little time capsule. It feels less like a movie and more like something you'd find in a dusty attic box. It’s definitely more interesting than sitting through a repetitive comedy like Buck Privates for the tenth time, just because of how unfiltered the vanity is.
Anyway, don't overthink it. It's just a bunch of people from a long time ago trying to look important in front of a new building. 💄
1922