5.4/10
Senior Film Conservator

A definitive 5.4/10 rating for a film that redefined the boundaries of cult cinema. Talking It Over remains a cornerstone of transgressive art.
You should probably watch this if you’re the kind of person who likes looking at ghosts or if you have a weird thing for 1920s stage personalities. If you want a story or something that makes sense by modern standards, you’ll probably hate it within the first thirty seconds.
It’s basically just Jack Osterman. He’s standing there in a suit that looks a little too stiff, doing his act for the camera like it’s a living person.
The whole thing starts with him singing 'You Want Lovin', and I Want Love.' It’s a catchy enough tune, but he has this intense way of looking at the camera that makes you feel like you should be nodding along or he'll get offended.
His eyes sort of dart around. It’s that early sound film thing where nobody was quite sure where to look yet.
Theres this comedy skit in the middle that is... well, it’s a choice. He’s doing these voices and moving his face in ways that feel like he’s trying to reach the back row of a theater that isn't actually there.
I kept looking at the background. It’s just this plain, dark curtain, which makes the whole thing feel strangely lonely.
You can hear the hiss of the early audio recording. It sounds like someone is frying bacon in the room next door.
He mentions he wrote the second song, 'Can't You Understand?' It’s a bit slower and more serious, I guess.
I wonder if he actually wrote it or if that was just part of the 'bad boy' persona he had on Broadway. He was famous for being a bit of a party animal, but in this film, he just looks like a guy working really hard to keep his job.
Some of the movements he makes are so fast the camera almost loses him. The frame rate makes his hands look like little blurs when he gets excited.
It reminds me a bit of the energy in The Office Scandal, even though that’s a different kind of vibe. There is just this desperate need to entertain that you don't see as much in movies anymore.
The joke he tells about the guy in the hotel? I didn't get it. I mean, I heard the words, but the punchline just sort of evaporated.
Maybe you had to be there. Like, literally there in 1929.
I noticed he adjusts his cuffs at one point. It’s such a small, human thing to do in the middle of a big 'performance.'
It made me think of Political Pull for some reason. Just that sense of a performer trying to command a space that feels too small for them.
The way he ends the song is so abrupt. He finishes, and then there’s just this beat of silence where he’s still looking at us.
It’s almost awkward. Like he’s waiting for us to clap through the screen.
If you've seen things like Easy Come, Easy Go, you know how these early talkies can feel a bit stiff. But Osterman is trying so hard to be fluid and loose.
He has this smirk that he keeps going back to. It’s a 'I know something you don't know' kind of look.
I think he’s actually a pretty good singer, though the audio quality makes him sound like he’s underwater half the time.
Is it a good movie? Not really. It’s not even really a movie.
It’s a record of a guy who is long gone, doing the one thing he was best at. There’s something kind of heavy about that if you think about it too long.
I found myself rewinding the part where he almost trips over his own feet during a little dance step. It’s barely a second long.
Those are the moments I watch these for. The stuff that wasn't supposed to be the 'act.'
Anyway, it’s short. You can watch it while you’re waiting for your toast to pop up.
Just don’t expect it to change your life or anything. It’s just Jack, talking it over.
It’s weirdly charming in a 'I can't believe they filmed this' sort of way. 🎞️

IMDb 5.9
1923
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