Cult Review
Senior Film Conservator
Honestly? Only if you have a soft spot for 1930s British comedies that move at the speed of a polite afternoon stroll. If you’re looking for grit or actual stakes, steer clear. This is for people who want to watch actors in suits yell at each other in fancy rooms while things somehow work out in the end. ☕
The whole thing feels like a stage play that someone decided to film on a Tuesday afternoon. There's this stiff, formal energy that permeates every scene, especially when the two fathers start bickering. It reminded me a bit of the frantic, low-budget energy in The New Car, where the plot is mostly just an excuse to get people into the same room and make them uncomfortable.
The highlight—if you can call it that—is watching the two fathers try to out-grump each other. They’re both so determined to be miserable that it’s almost impressive. You can practically see them checking their pocket watches, waiting for their next line about 'tradition' or 'American business sense.'
There’s a moment where a character just stands by a fireplace for way too long. Nothing happens. He just stares at the logs. It’s oddly hypnotic, like the camera operator got distracted by the set design and forgot to yell cut. I kind of loved it.
It’s not a masterpiece. It doesn’t try to be. It’s just a collection of scenes where people walk through doorways, look slightly annoyed, and then sit down. Sometimes, that’s all you need on a rainy day when you don't want to think too hard about the human condition or whatever critics are obsessing over this week.
Also, the way they handle the 'romance' is hilarious. It’s less 'falling in love' and more 'we are both in this movie, so let’s stand near each other.' 🤷♂️ If you’ve ever seen Three Hours Late, you know exactly the kind of breezy, slightly empty vibe I’m talking about. It’s fine. It’s just... fine.

Year
1936
IMDb Rating
—

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Deciphering the legacy of transgressive cult cinema.
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