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6.2/10
Senior Film Conservator
A definitive 6.2/10 rating for a film that redefined the boundaries of cult cinema. The Age of Innocence remains a cornerstone of transgressive art.
If you have a thing for black-and-white dramas where nobody ever shouts and everyone wears stiff collars, you might dig this. But if you need a movie that actually breathes, you'll probably want to fast-forward through the polite nodding. It’s definitely for the costume drama crowd and absolutely not for anyone who hates slow-burn stuff that never really catches fire.
There’s this moment early on where the camera just lingers on a dining table, and I swear I could hear the silverware hitting the plates louder than the dialogue. It’s all very proper. Maybe a bit too proper.
The whole thing feels like you're eavesdropping on a conversation in a library where you're not allowed to speak. Irene Dunne is doing a lot of heavy lifting with just her eyes, trying to look like a woman who has seen things, while the rest of the cast seems worried about tripping over their own velvet curtains.
I found myself comparing the pacing to something like Seven Keys to Baldpate, which, despite being a completely different animal, actually feels like it has a pulse. This movie? It’s more like a polite cough in a crowded room.
There’s a scene near the middle where they talk about a divorce, and the way they treat it, you’d think they were discussing the weather or perhaps a slightly overcooked roast. It’s supposed to be scandalous, but it feels like watching paint dry in a ballroom. 🙄
I don't know. Maybe I just wasn't in the mood for 19th-century etiquette. It’s not a bad film, it’s just very, very satisfied with being exactly what it is—a polite, slightly stuffy adaptation that keeps its distance from the audience.
Sometimes you just want a movie to grab you by the collar, but this one just offers a stiff, gloved handshake. Fine, I guess. But I wanted more.