I wonder how this played in 1933, when it opened, the bottom of the Depression? It's not clever. It's just a lot of very spoiled aristocrats or American nouveaux-riches pretending to be aristocrats, filling up their days with empty chatter and not much else. Occasionally one is hurtful, but not cleverly so. You could never mistake this for good Oscar Wilde. (I wonder if the original play, which had a success on Broadway, is any more interesting?) It reminds me of nothing so much as the sort of English drawing-room drama spoofed in *Auntie Mame* (I think it was called *Midsummer Madness* there.)
Constance Bennett is very beautiful, but that's about all I can find to recommend here.
Constance Bennett is very beautiful, but that's about all I can find to recommend here.