As has been said before 1939 was a great year for Hollywood classics, "Gone with the Wind", "The Wizard of Oz", "Wuthering Heights", "Stagecoach", et.al but I must admit I'd never heard of this film, or its place in the pantheon before now. It merits its spot. Once the novelty of an all-female cast wears off (there' nary a male extra in the backgrounds either), the movie crackles along as a small group of society women present a kaleidoscopic view of relations with men so that while men are absent physically they're ever-present in the dialogue and thoughts of this contrasting set of women-folk. Introduced wittily over the titles alongside their attributional equivalents in the animal world, the actresses play out of their skins and make a two hour plus set-bound movie simply fly by. Central to the whole is Norma Shearer, whose perfect marriage is shattered by her husband's casual infidelity with on-the-make shop girl Joan Crawford in a terrific, venomous turn. Shearer effectively plays queen bee to the drones around her both in her society set and in the motley assemblage at the divorce farm in Reno. She makes the journey from marriage to divorce and back with dignity and intelligence and even if I personally disagree with her choice and the sickly schmaltzy close-up with which she ends the film, about to fall back into her errant (ex-) husband's arms, this doesn't invalidate the fun and wit that has gone before. As good as Crawford and Shearer are, in their contrasting roles, it's Rosalind Russell as the treacherous, waspish Mrs Fowler, who steals the show and gets many of the best situations (her cat fight with Goddard is priceless!) and lines. Goddard too is radiant and knowing in her part, while a young Joan Fontaine simpers pleasantly as the naive "little child" of the group. A special nod also to the child actress playing Shearer's daughter without artifice and yet with appreciable warmth and naturalness. There are one or two anachronistic moments which jar, reflecting contemporary attitudes towards race and censorship, but on the whole, "woman's director" George Cukor keeps all the ingredients close to or at boiling point throughout. Perhaps too many of the speeches are head and shoulder shots fore square to the camera and having got good play out of two servant staff extemporising the doings of their masters, Cukor makes the mistake of repeating the trick immediately afterwards, thus diminishing the comedic impact. Nevertheless, appreciating that some of these criticisms are merely due to a retrospective eye (obviously cinematic times and styles change) on a film which in some respects is dated, there are still some neat turns in the language and phrases used, which still resonate today.
