More a loosely constructed vehicle for the considerable acting talents of once revered but now mostly forgotten stars such as John Barrymore and Marie Dressler, than a satisfying piece of early sound film-making in its own right. The first half is shamelessly long-winded and exposition heavy, consisting of needlessly drawn out conversations between ACTORS who are ACTING, rather than helping to tell any cogent or credible story. The second half is a little livelier, thanks mostly to one frantic monologue from Billie Burke, and the scene stealing of Lee Tracy, as well as Barrymore's sudden, tragic transformation from movie idol to washed up drunk before our eyes. The studio's intent clearly was to round up an all-star cast, fling something together and let them do what they did best as performers. That may have been a must-see gimmick at the time, but today it merely comes off as a high rent, two hour episode of "The Love Boat", as the storyline is little more than a thin excuse for the stars to parade about and strut their stuff. That is evidently enough for some hardcore film buffs, but not this one.
Review of Dinner at Eight
