Beyond explanation, this silly, contrived and utterly outdated tale defies description. But it is a scream to watch, as the kaleidoscope of scenes unveil themselves in glorious early-Technicolor. The lovely and stylish Joan Bennett plays madcap heiress Wendy Van Katterling, on the eve of her marriage to a man she does not love, well-played by Alan Mowbray. This "madcap heiress" business, prolific in the Twenties and Thirties, gets pretty hard to take as the decades roll by it was phony then, and it's *especially* phony now, harking back to a time when America was entranced by "The Upper Class." (Then there's that "madcap" business how come we only hear about madcap heiresses. Why not madcap nurses or madcap streetwalkers?) This theatrical device, hackneyed already by the late Thirties, begs the viewer to wisely suspend any thought of reality, and that suspension *must* occur just as it does in *The Wizard of Oz,* or the next hour-and-a-half or so will be torture. From the delivery of her wedding gown (in a motorcade down Fifth Avenue, no less, in a ridiculously tiny box) to the closing fashion show extravaganza, this movie can be excruciating or delightful, depending on your point of view. The heiress runs away, since that's what *all* madcap heiresses *do*, and gets a job at the House of Curzon, a Fifth Avenue couture salon. She endears herself to Curzon, himself (Baxter), who has plenty on his mind already, with a Broadway show he's producing for his two-timing wife. The introduction of this branch of the plot allows for the insertion of a variety of musical interludes that are so unrelated, they appear to have been scrapped from *other* movies, but they are marvelous period pieces that dazzle the eye. Fashion piracy is another theme of the movie, and this piracy spells trouble for the House of Curzon. Then the wife departs, leaving Curzon with a mountain of debt and a faltering business. One thing becomes another and everything works out okay (this *is* 1937), culminating in a spectacular fashion show utilizing the gorgeous Miss Bennett, and *hundreds* of others, and all of the fantastic sets that were left over from the Broadway show Curzon was producing. While the movie drags at times, it is a time capsule revealing a particular slice of America that *wanted* to see movies like this or is it that this was more of the kind of product that movie studios wanted Americans to see? In any case it is sheer fantasy, spewing out delicious costumes and surreal musical numbers lie it was a broken water main. The acting? Mischa Auer, as Curzon's rival-turned-friend, is brilliant.
Review of Vogues of 1938
