The 2025 TCM Classic Film Festival in Review: Days 1 and 2
April 28, 2025
The 2025 TCM Classic Film Festival wrapped yesterday and, as usual, it was a fabulous time! By my count, I watched 10 movies—eight were new to me and two were titles I had seen before. I also caught two Club TCM events and swung by two poolside screenings. Considering the whole festival is three and a half days long, I think I did pretty well!
This week I’ll be sharing my brief fest recap. Stay tuned for more in-depth dives into select programs in the coming weeks and months.
I was a big fan of this year's festival art! (Photo by Kim Luperi)
Day 1 started where it always does—in line. I thought Moonlight and Pretzels (1933) screened at 6:15pm, but it was actually 6:45pm… which worked in my favor, because I hopped in line early and nabbed queue card 22. At one point, a large group of people descended upon the line, and many ended up being turned away. I predicted it would be a TBA on Sunday. (And it was.)
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As for the movie? Honestly, I liked it more than I thought I would. I think this was because my expectations were rather low going in after reading some lukewarm reviews. Sure, it was bargain basement Busby Berkeley—the songs didn’t make much sense, the production design was lacking, and the choreography was nowhere near as majestic and precise as Berkeley. But, as my friend Laura said, there was an “oddball charm” to it, and I agree; the film’s eccentricity entranced me. It was also rather comical at times—maybe not in a purposeful way—but in the end, you can’t fault the attempt considering the success of 42nd Street earlier that year.
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As Ken Jennings mentioned in his introduction, Moonlight and Pretzels flipped the norm—gangsters were the good guys (except one dude) and the Broadway producers came off as the bad guys—that’s pre-Code for you! Other pre-Code elements included some translucent costumes and spicy asides, especially from Lillian Miles, who pleasantly surprised me. I liked her more than Mary Brian and male lead Roger Pryor (certainly no Dick Powell). First billed Leo Carrillo, who I patiently waited for to show up, looked like he had a grand old time.
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Afterwards, I strolled over to the Roosevelt and arrived poolside in time for Pierce Brosnan to sing “SOS” in Mamma Mia! (2007), and all was right in the world for a moment. Or actually several moments, as I stayed to enjoy a few ABBA songs. It was a small but mighty crowd filled with several fellow fans singing along.
Norma Shearer and Conrad Nagel in The Divorcee (1930).
Day 2 started with—what else?—a pre-Code, The Divorcee (1930). We were the first audience to experience this new print—the only existing one that they know of, which is incredible (and a little scary?!), considering this is a pretty well-known Oscar-winning classic. I’ve seen The Divorcee many times, but there are a handful of titles I’ve always wanted to watch with a crowd—and this was one. Some of the early talkie dialogue was hard to understand, but that famous scene where Norma Shearer does a 180 and tells off husband Chester Morris prompted a roaring round of applause, as I knew it would. Shearer was so striking and powerful on the big screen, and it was definitely a treat to watch this in a theater, with a full house, to boot! Marsha Gordon’s conversation with TCM host Jacqueline Stewart was also fantastic, hitting upon, in my opinion, the most interesting points of the film’s production history.
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After The Divorcee, I walked right back in the Egyptian Theatre line along with many fellow fans for Servants’ Entrance (1934). My predications were correct; this film fell more into the post-Code era than pre-Code. Nonetheless, it was a delightful romp that fit the festival's fantasy theme well—the plot certainly took some liberties with reality! (And that’s aside from the enchanting Walt Disney animation sequence, which was longer and more intricate than I thought it would be.) Janet Gaynor was sweet as usual, Ned Sparks was uproarious—he stole the few scenes he was in and while I wish he popped up more, his shtick probably would have become tiresome quickly—and Lew Ayres I’d listen to talk about boats any day.
BFI CEO Ben Roberts and writer/director Guillermo del Toro at the BFI Club TCM event. (Photo by Kim Luperi)
I took a movie break next to catch one of my most anticipated Club TCM events, From Across the Pond: Sights & Sounds of the British Film Institute. I was chatting with someone walking into Club TCM, and they mentioned Guillermo del Toro would be there, and I did a double take. For the BFI program? Yes—and they were right! I 100% missed that announcement. I knew he was a scholar and passionate about film history but I had never heard him talk—he blew me away with his knowledge, humor, and eloquence. BFI CEO Ben Roberts and del Toro discussed the BFI's vast holdings, which was a treat, highlighting select genres and directors. I’ll be back with more on this event soon!
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The hourlong BFI program allowed me enough time to jump in the theater 4 line early for Me and My Gal (1932). Surprisingly, the queue wasn’t crowded… at first. Since I lined up super early, I also got asked to do an on-camera interview for TCM, and I actually don’t think it was the worst, so that’s a positive! Maybe you’ll see me on screen… somewhere.
One of the many exhibitor's reviews Bruce Goldstein showed us from Me and My Gal. (Photo by Kim Luperi)
I happily made it into Me and My Gal. My first thought is that Bruce Goldstein needs to teach lessons on how to captivate an audience. I love his intros; they’re funny, informative, enthusiastic, and wonderfully structured. He started with some humorous reviews—all basically putting down the film in the funniest and bluntest ways possible—and ended with a clip from Strange Interlude (1932), which he promised we’d understand after. Sure enough, we did! Goldstein returned after the film to discuss the Strange Interlude gag and shared scenes from the movie with labels to indicate what local boards cut. I love highlighting pages from the censorship files, but this is a much more effective way of showcasing those edits.
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The film itself was very entertaining. Spencer Tracy and Joan Bennett meshed together beautifully, their barbs popping off each other. Goldstein said Tracy improvised, and I 100% see that; he was so natural that it was almost like we weren’t watching a movie. There are some great pre-Code moments, and the evolution of their relationship felt authentic—from their flirtations to those Strange Interlude voiceovers to outwardly questioning how they both should act at the beginning of a relationship. Talk about being raw and honest in a way post-Code films would not be!
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Like I did Day 1, I swung by the Roosevelt pool to catch a few minutes of the evening's movie, Clueless (1995). I remember owning this on VHS, and I’ve long wanted to see Clueless on the big screen. (I still intend to watch the whole thing!) I enjoyed walking in right in time to see Paul Rudd look… basically the same as he does now. After a few scenes, I headed home in an attempt to get a good night’s sleep, and I (almost) accomplished that.
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Stay tuned for my recaps of Days 3 and 4, coming soon!
thanks for stopping by!
I See a Dark Theater is a website dedicated to classic movie-going—and loving—in the City of Angels. Whether it's coverage on screenings, special presentations, or Q&As around Los Angeles that you're looking for, or commentary on the wonderful and sometimes wacky world of classic cinema, you've come to the right place for a variety of pieces written with zeal, awe, and (occasionally) wit. Enjoy.
