Perfect in Every Regard

Author's Rating:

Pros: The cast, the script, the sets, the costumes.

Cons: None that come to mind!

The Bottom Line: 
Watch this movie at all costs. If nothing else, you will be able to at least see a great survey of America's past icons. And you'll probably be wildly entertained!

Author's Review
M-G-M's star constellation included some of the brightest and most famous celebrities of the 1930s. The studio often put one or two of these stars in each picture they produced, but every once in a while, M-G-M would make an all-star film showcasing multiple big-names in a single movie. Dinner at Eight is one such movie. Based upon the Broadway play of the same name, the film tells the tale of the high society of New York during the Great Depression. Millicent Jordan (Billie Burke, wife of Florenz Ziegfeld) is throwing a dinner party, and she is inviting a gallimaufry of guests that includes theatrical legend Carlotta Vance (Marie Dressler), ruthless business tycoon Dan Packard (Wallace Beery), his common wife Kitty (Jean Harlow), faded screen idol Larry Renault (John Barrymore), and the family physician Dr. Talbot (Edmund Lowe). The film traipses around the city visiting all of the future guests, exploiting their conditions, and finally uniting them in the lounge of the Jordan household on the eve of the dinner. Wonderfully funny, with dramatic poignancy added to great effect, Dinner at Eight is a grand specimen of 1930s cinema.

The movie Dinner at Eight is one of the best comedies ever made in Hollywood. Any reviewer who has claimed that it isn’t a comedy needs to re-examine the picture. Although undeniably dark in its tone, the film is also undeniably hilarious, especially when certain actors are on-screen. It could be called a dark comedy, even a black comedy, but a comedy it is nonetheless. There are eight “above-the-title” stars in this picture.

Billie Burke, except for the scene in which she discovers her husband is ill, is a parody of the society woman. Every line of hers, emphasizing her scatterbrain-ness and her lack of priorities, reeks of hilarity. Her role is pure comedy.

Lionel Barrymore, playing a sickly business tycoon, has a less comedic role. His opening lines about “Australian mutton” are hilarious. The way he watches his wife planning the party is also quite comedic. His dramatic moments juxtapose alongside his wife’s to create some of her funniest moments. His part is almost split down the middle between comedy and drama.

Wallace Beery, portraying a ruthless, uncouth business man, is hilarious. His vulgarity contradict everything Mrs. Jordan views as ideal. He screams, yells, and has a violent temper. And, boy, is he funny to watch. Anyone who tries to label his performance as anywhere near dramatic should have his or her head examined. He gives the funnies male performance in the film. The role is almost all comedy.

Jean Harlow, as his slutty, common, vixen-of-a-wife gives the finest comedic performance of her entire career. She snarls, changes her voice in different conversations, manipulates, and lies, all to comedic perfection. Just the sound of her voice, saying the most outrageous dialogue to boot, triggers the laughs. This is the most comedic role in the picture.

John Barrymore, as an aging silent matinee idol, is the film’s most dramatic performance. Although he has some comic moments (very few), and some ironic and satirical actions (when he kills himself, for example, he positions the light perfectly to capture his profile), for the most part, his scenes give the film their most dramatic moments. The performance is about 90% drama.

Edmund Lowe, playing a doctor-cum-playboy having a tryst with Harlow, has his part split down the middle. He is often funny, never reaching the sheer hilarity of some of the others, but, also, never quite elevating to the heights of histrionics either. His views on extramarital affairs are pretty funny, but when he has to tell a patient of impending illness, its drama. The fact that he specializes in “bedside manner” is just funny, and his first embrace with his “patient” is a scathing critique of corrupt society. Just as Lionel Barrymore’s role, Lowe’s is split fifty-fifty, right down the middle.

Lee Tracy, as John Barrymore’s agent, is simply hilarious. His vocal fluctuations were his trademark, and the part seems tailor-made for him. Although he has many dramatic moments, he is very funny most of the time. His reactions and gestures are wonderful. In all, this part is about 60% comedy, 40% drama.

Marie Dressler, as a grand dame of the 1890s, is priceless. She all-but steals the picture from her co-stars. Sprinkled among her part are dozens of comic innuendos and perfect double takes. She is perfect and absolutely hilarious at all time, with the exception of the one scene in which she must explain to a young woman that her lover has committed suicide. The rest of the time she goes traipsing about making a perfect spectacle of herself, and she is the greatest asset to the film, acting-wise. Her part is 99% comic, except for that one scene.

The supporting actors, particularly Louise Closser Hale and Grant Withers, are comedic perfection. With the exception of the scenes in John Barryore’s room at the Hotel Versailles, almost every supporting role is meant to be funny. The sets and costumes poke fun at the times too, and in the last analysis, the picture is a dramatic comedy, but a comedy bien sûr!

The direction, sets, and costumes are all done par excellance by the top crew members of the studio: George Cukor, Cedric Gibbons, and Gilbert Adrian, respectively. It is a not-to-be-missed gem!