Richard Brody at The New Yorker writes about Whit Stillman’s Metropolitan, which is now in select theaters.

The essence of “Metropolitan” isn’t so much the U.H.B. but its twilight—the danger that it will be reduced merely to its social traditions and become as obsolete and as absurd as Europe’s titled aristocracy. That was already a threat in the time of Stillman’s youth and was even more conspicuous when he made the film, twenty years later. Throughout the film, young men wonder whether their class is doomed, whether they’re condemned to failure, and what form such failure would take.