Some Gracie Allen non-sense mixed with charming if far from inspired musical numbers. I can't think of anything as out of his element in Walsh's catalogue.
WC Fields as the weak man running wild after hypnosis makes he believe he is a lion. This has a limitation in that in classic Fields fashion nobody else registers much which makes the film struggle to makes the early act as believable as it is supposed to be. Stil, this is v4ery funny stuff and far more Fieldian than one might expect for a silent. A young Gregory La Cava directed, one can't see much of his personality, but Fields benefit for his stronger sense of structure.
Roma has two very diferent impulses: one is trying to make a larger panel of Mexican society at the turn of the 70s with Cleo serving as it center and the other a nostalgic reverie, one that uses its aesthetic tour de force to justify every fetishistic detail it can throw at the audience. Cuaron knows his title will bring to mind Fellini who often also operate into such impulses, but as much as I think Fellini's navel gazing can…
"We're late, darling, we're late
The curtain descends, everything ends too soon, too soon"
One can't stop history. Come for Vertigo by way of Fassbinder, stays to be complete emotional devasted. Literally physical painful to sit through at times. The best thing about Petzold spare staging, the way his images can both feel charged with history and emotionally naked might have never been put to such good use. Also, Nina Hoss is beyond words (Zehrfeld is pretty great in a tricky role as well);
Literally greatest drop the mic ending ever.