High Society (1956) - film review

On the eve of her wedding to businessman George Kittredge, Rhode Island socialite Tracy Samantha Lord receives an unexpected, and unwelcome visit from her first husband, the jazz musician C.K. Dexter Haven.  Before the reunion can turn nasty, Mike Connor, a reporter from Spy Magazine turns up at the Lord household, with his photographer, Liz Imbrie, to write a story on the impending marriage.  One evening, Tracy has too much to drink and falls into the arms of Mike Connor, and then the swimming pool.  The next morning, Tracy realises that she is loved by three men and wonders which one of them she should marry...

This glitzy remake of The Philadelphia Story (1940) may have more star power than the Orion Nebula but, thanks to its unimaginative direction, bland photography and plodding screenplay, it would have difficulty out-dazzling a lump of coal.  The last film that Grace Kelly made before she gave up acting and became Mrs Prince Rainier III would appear to have everything going for – lively Cole Porter numbers, some great performers and the incomparable Louis Armstrong – but, shamelessly resting on its laurels, it ends up being about as stimulating as a party political broadcast given by the Let’s All Wear Beige Party.  Crosby is far too old for his role (he was more than twice Grace Kelly’s age, and looks it) and Sinatra is clearly wasted on such lowbrow fare as this.  Whilst the film occasionally comes to life – e.g. with the Who Wants to Be a Millionaire? number (that’s the song, not the ghastly game show it inspired)  - it drags like an elderly asthmatic snail on its way back home after doing the weekend shopping.  It makes a pretty good soporific though.

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