Just caught this as part of a TCM tribute to Grace's career. Not much to say about it. There are some beautiful shots of the water, lots of big cars and boats, a rather nice visit to the ballet, and a good look at the outside and inside of the palace. It is all interspersed with some of the most fawning purple prose this side of Jackie Collins, and - all in all - a generously depressed air of decayed monarchy. We are led to believe (by the hard working hagiographer/narrator) that this all really means something, that it is a sunny symbol of the best life has to offer, that it is a manifestation of pure happiness in the form of a quite pretty but slightly gelid American princess. It doesn't ring true for one moment, but the disconnect found there is part of the reason it's bearable at all. Everybody appears to be working far too hard to keep up appearances, and all human vitality appears to have leaked out through the scullery doors. One hopes she was happy, but I read she wasn't particularly. Prince Rainier always seemed like a pill to me.
