Ah to be young, doomed and bourgeois. You either love or hate Whit Stillman's
U.H.B.s' (Urban Haute Bourgeoisies) endless dialogues in his three comedies of manners, Metropolitan
and The Last Days of Disco
. I always think of them as a trilogy (though they aren't in a strict sense) as his protagonists are always talking about the same things, essentially (relationships, morality, class, love, aimlessness), sprinking in references to Jane Austen, Luis Bunuel
, Samuel Johnson and the like. They're at heart, movies about growing up, with clever dialogue and gentle irony. I love Stillman's wry sensibility and have been waiting, like his other ardent fans, for his next project; in January, we heard
he was preparing to direct his first film in seven years. He finally tells us, in his own meandering way, what he's been up to in The Guardian
. He appears to be working on a script about Jamaican music, but basically, he's looking for a good day job.