Based on a play by George S. Kaufmann and Edna Ferber, Dinner at Eight is a movie classic released by MGM in 1934, the year my mom was born. I feel safe in saying that Mom's parents, avid moviegoers though they were, likely gave this film a pass during my grandmother's confinement, their preferences being geared more towards westerns featuring Johnny Mack Brown, Rex Bell and newly-minted star, John Wayne. Dinner at Eight is urbane and sophisticated, the type of witty fare Hollywood excelled in producing when public morale was at its lowest (national unemployment during filming was at 25% and the country was in the doldrums of the Great Depression). It is equal parts very funny and equal parts mawkish and manipulative, which makes Dinner at Eight a mixed bag for me. 



Billie Burke (Glinda the Good Witch in The Wizard of Oz) plays Millicent Jordan, a ditzy New York socialite planning a swanky dinner party for visiting British aristocrats. Her husband, Oliver (a fine Lionel Barrymore), is in danger of losing his shipping line and, at the same time, attempting to conceal dire health issues from his family. Oliver's old flame, the financially distraught theater legend Carlotta Vance (Marie Dressler) shows up offering to sell Oliver her shares in his shipping company before she is forced to hock her furs and join the bread line. 



Tipped off that Oliver is on the verge of financial collapse, unscrupulous, newly-monied wheeler-dealer, Dan Packard (Wallace Beery) plots to gain control of the shipping company; that is, when he's not busy brawling with his glamorously vulgar, sexpot-wife, Kitty (Jean Harlow). Unaware of Dan's plans, Oliver asks a reticent Millicent to invite Dan and Kitty to the  dinner party, hoping he can persuade Dan to infuse much-needed cash into his ailing business. Kitty, (a social climber and former siren of the night) overrides Dan's objections and accepts the dinner invitation from Millicent. In the meantime, the indiscreet Kitty is having an affair with Oliver's bed-hopping doctor (Edmund Lowe) whose own wife (Karen Morley) hovers understandingly on the periphery throughout most of the film. Needing another man to round out her dinner party, Millicent invites boozing, washed-up film star, Larry Renault (John Barrymore) who is squatting in a lavish hotel suite and cadging liquor from the bellboys. Unbeknownst to Millicent and Oliver, Larry engages in secretive trysts with their infatuated 19-year-old daughter (Madge Evans), who is, herself, only a week away from reciting her wedding vows. Various altercations occur on the day of the big dinner and Millicent soon finds herself sans the aristocratic guests of honor, as well as half her staff. Oh, the humanity! What's a society hostess to do? 



For various reasons, Dinner at Eight deserves its status as a Hollywood classic. Director George Cukor, still in the early stages of his career, works wonders with a large cast of major players, especially his women who, in most cases, outshine the men. Harlow and Beery make a memorable couple whose onscreen squabbling is hilarious, and Marie Dressler's aging actress is a force of nature. Lionel Barrymore, stuck in a thankless role, is, nevertheless, stolid and dignified, while Billie Burke is very good as a self-serving nitwit. Also good in smaller roles are Louise Closser Hale and Grant Mitchell as Millicent's cousins, Lee Tracy as John Barrymore's agent, and Hilda Vaughn as Kitty's long-suffering maid. 



The soap opera elements of the plot tend to drag down the movie considerably, and there are overlong stretches of boring, tiresome dialogue featuring a hammy John Barrymore and the miscast Evans, John Barrymore and various flunkies, John Barrymore and...well, just John Barrymore. I much prefer Lionel as an actor. Even so, his Oliver's ailing health puts a damper on much of the movie, and its repetition eventually becomes distracting. 



The best scene of the movie comes at the end, as the guests are finally preparing to go in for dinner. There is a brief bit between Dressler and Harlow that is simply wonderful--worthy of any 10-best final scenes list--and makes up for the more tedious material sandwiched in between the delightful repartee and bickering that makes Dinner at Eight well worth watching. A must-see for Dressler's, Harlow's and Beery's performances. 


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