TOO BIG TO FAIL
Annoying flapper and annoying dapper come Charlestoning out of a speakeasy and the dapper fellow tells her she's a "swan in this light," and they kiss. Is this a flashback? Are we doomed to repeat the bathtub ginning and aimless street-dancing of the 1929 stock market crash? No, it is just a film. We are not dancing on the edge of that volcano.
Just kidding! We totally are. In his infinite wisdom, David O. Russell has moved the action of the story from 1921 to 1929, the better to draw parallels to the early days of the Great Depression and the current situation in the US, which is dire for persons who are not living within this science-fiction television program called Gossip Girl.
DOR: "That was great! Loosen up, enjoy it a little bit. Just because you're in white tie doesn't mean you can't be dirty and drunk. That's how these people were back then!"
It's true, they were totally beautiful. And damned!
The always surprising deep voice of -- Marcus? Marshall? Maurice? Serena's fair-weather friend from the finale -- informs Russell that his phone call needs a quote about the movie move, but first David needs to vet that idea of talking about it with Sue Zucconi, who is where all ideas come from. David and Serena says some pleasant hellos over lattés and Marcus -- a hissing upwardly mobile clipboard-twink of an assistant, it turns out -- slyly intercepts.
Marcus: "[Bitchy micromanaging and cockblocking.]"
Serena: "[Breezy benevolence and oblivion.]"
This Goes On: For a while.
Serena loves the business, the energy, the hyper journey from page to screen -- she is Blair in reverse, she's always been on the other side of the screen, she's always needed a way to control the reality of images, they tyrannize her and she needs to be in charge of them -- but Marcus, he will have none of it. He will have none! He won't even let her observe shooting, so intent is he on stomping her Jenny Humphrey-type Cinderella dreams. It would be menacing, if Serena had any fucking clue what was going on, but this is our Thunder-Perfect Mind we're talking about. Even if he took out a knife and shivved her, probably doubloons would just come pouring out of her Kevlar clothing and all the extras would come rioting up to collect them in their aprons and he would be found crushed under a wagon wheel or something.
What is menacing, though, is the arrival of a terrifying overnight Howler for Serena, which when opened screams out in a blood-chilling, deafening roar: SAVE THE DATE, PETUNIA.