The staging of Kings of the Evening looks a little stagy, but I'm not sure I care, I like the premise so much, and it looks so deeply felt:
It's hard for me to imagine another movie treating dressing up, whether by men or women, with such care and consideration for the importance of looking good to feeling good. There's nothing unhealthy or pressuring about this. It's not about these men and their bodies. It's about their presentation, their insistence on dignity when the only jobs available are hauling flour, or other physical work that can damage the clothes they take such care with. The gentleness of this declaration that when a man dresses right "he feels beautiful. He is respected. More importantly, he respects himself," is lovely. Nothing about this hard-times ritual diminishes their masculinity.
A contemporary movie might treat something like this as a veiled gay joke, or would focus on the dress-up play of rich people, and like the Sex and the City movies, get treated as hideous privileged-class, perhaps justifiably, as a result. We are stuck in this cycle where clothes and looks are increasingly important, but it's also vulgar to care about them too much. These guys aren't caught in either of those conceptual traps. If it's a philosophy we could import to present-day art and life, we might be richer for it.