Ninotchka (1939) ****

When MGM marketed director Ernst Lubitsch’s political satirical 1939 comedy, Ninotchka, they used the catchphrase, “Garbo laughs”. While Greta Garbo had most assuredly laughed in her previous films, this was her first comedy film and she played her part perfectly.  It helped that screenwriters Billy Wilder, Walter Reisch, Charles Brackett, and Melchior Lengyel’s Oscar-nominated script was tailored made to fit Garbo’s serious on and off-screen persona.  As a result, Ninotchka benefitted immensely from having the perfect script for just the right actress who was supported by an eccentric cast, and who was directed by the only man who could pull it all together. 

When Lubitsch decided to make Ninotchka he wanted to cast Garbo in the lead but was worried that she might not be able to play the part as he wanted.  As such, he had an interview with her in which after several minutes of anxious, serious small talk he asked her, almost accusingly, “Can you laugh?” Garbo, for her part, was amused by the question and told him she believed she could.  But, Lubitsch pressed on and explained that he didn’t want a small, polite laugh but that he wanted a “wide-open and completely spontaneous laugh”. Garbo said she’d have to think about it for a day.  When she returned the following day she answered Lubitsch by saying, “Your question and the idea--can you laugh is silly. And I love it.”  She then proceeded to laugh quite heartily, as did Lubitsch, and they, of course, ended up making a Oscar-nominated film that showcased probably Garbo’s most rounded performance ever.  Oh, and the conversation also turned into one of the best film marketing campaigns ever.

Most of the story takes place in 1920s Paris, where three Soviet emissaries, Iranov (Sig Ruman), Buljanov (Felix Bressart) and Kopalsky (Alexander Granach) are trying to sell the crown jewels of the Grand Duchess Swana (Ina Claire). The jewelry sale is of great importance to the Soviet people, as it is expected that the year’s crop is going to be quite poor and the money will go toward feeding the nation.  However, the emissaries are beguiled by the luxuries of the Western world and end up being sidetracked by the Duchesses’ smooth-talking lover, Count Leon d’Algout (Melvyn Douglas).  When the pending jewelry sale ends up in the French courts, the Soviet government decides to send in reinforcements in the form of a no-nonsense hard-liner, Nina Ivanovna Yakushova, “Ninotchka” (Garbo). 

Of course, it is Ninotchka’s stolid, straight-talking, all-business nature that makes the story as funny as it is.  Her tone is set from the moment she steps off the train and refuses to allow a porter to carry her bags and asks him, “Why should you carry other people’s bags?” To which the porter answers, “Well, that’s by business, Madame.” Her retort, “That’s no business. That’s social injustice.”  His reply, “That depends on the tip.” The audience laughs, but not Ninotchka.  And the story continues on like this for quite some time, with Ninotchka matter-of-factly addressing the bumbling antics of her comrades and finding herself appalled by the consumerism of the Western world: two-thousand francs for a hotel room could buy a cow for the Soviet people; ordering raw beets and carrots in a French restaurant; and, inciting ladies’ room attendants to strike for better wages.  Through it all, Garbo plays her Oscar-nominated part to the hilt, never giving away that she is in on the jokes that the audience is laughing at. Her willingness to allow her true persona to be the butt of the joke is what makes the film so great. In one of her first scenes in the movie, her character is asked, “Do you want to be alone, comrade?”, a direct jab at her infamous line from Grand Hotel (1932) which became synonymous with her on-screen and off-screen personality. 

Yet, Ninotchka would have not been quite as good as it is if Garbo’s character didn’t transform a little, and that’s where Douglas’ character comes in.  Even a hard-line Russian girl can be sidetracked by a smooth-talking man—even if she constantly one-ups him with classic lines like, “Your general appearance is not distasteful,” and “We don't have men like you in my country. That is why I believe in the future of my country.”  And, yes, he is what finally makes her laugh a “wide-open and completely spontaneous laugh” with his complete ridiculousness.

Still, it’s not the love story that draws you in, it is the personal, though hilarious, transformation of Ninotchka. Through Ninotchka’s true education to the workings of the world and the true nature of communism, Lubitsch is able to show his main character’s growth as well as to expose the idiocy of the Soviet system.  No one did satirical social and/or political comedy better than Lubitsch, and Ninotchka was the perfect vehicle for him to attack Soviet propaganda.  Perhaps 1939 wasn’t the best time to tick off the Soviets, as less than three months prior to the film’s release the Soviets had signed the Non-Aggression Pact with Hitler.  In any case, Lubitsch’s cunning but polite ridicule of the Soviet system is perhaps the best film depiction of communism of its time.  He would, of course, follow this successful political satire up with perhaps his greatest satire, To Be or Not To Be (1942), when he took on the Nazis—you see, he was an equal-opportunity ridiculer.

Overall, I adore Ninotchka.  While I love Garbo drama, I most admire this performance because it is her most-rounded role ever.  Additionally, I’m a sucker for well-done satire, and when it so deftly exposes the true nature of a political party or a historical mindset all the better.

To Be or Not To Be (1942) ****

Director Ernst Lubitsch made many great films in his distinguished career, but if I had to pick just one to call my favorite it would be To Be or Not to Be (followed very closely by Ninotchka [1939]) from 1942.  Released on March 6, 1942, almost 3 months to the day that the Japanese attacked Pearl Harbor, the movie was not well-received by critics or moviegoers. People didn’t think it was funny to make light of the Nazis when they were on the brink of world domination.  To that, I say, “Ah, nuts!”  What better time was there to make the vilest group of ideologues look completely ridiculous?  If you can laugh at them, then you most certainly can beat them!

Born to Jewish parents in Berlin, Germany, Lubitsch was well aware of the dangers of Nazism. While he came to Hollywood long before the Nazis took power in 1933, Lubitsch had friends and family back home who weren’t so lucky.  Still, some American film critics were either oblivious to the Nazis’ complete hatred of Jews or just plain idiotic when they cried foul about a Berlin-born director making a film about the Nazi invasion of Poland. Did they really think he thought people should laugh at that tragic event?  Lubitsch found the critiques to be asinine and tried to explain that he had satirized the “Nazis and their ridiculous ideology” not what happened to the Polish people. 

The one thing that critics did like about the film was leading lady Carole Lombard.  Tragically, Lombard was killed in a plane crash two months prior to the film’s release.  Today, her portrayal of Maria Tura in To Be or Not to Be is considered the finest of her career.  Yet, she almost didn’t play the part, as Miriam Hopkins was Lubitsch’s first choice. Having worked with Lubitsch on three of her best films, Hopkins was experiencing a downturn in her career when her old friend decided she was ready for a comeback. Unfortunately, at least for Hopkins but most certainly not for me or Lombard, Hopkins and lead actor Jack Benny didn’t get along from the start of production. 

The story, penned by writers Melchior Lengyel and Edwin Justus Mayer, is about a Warsaw acting troupe who find themselves accidentally embroiled in the Polish resistance against the Nazis following the 1939 invasion.  Josef Tura (Benny) and his wife Maria are renowned Warsaw actors.  He is a self-absorbed ham who happens to love playing Hamlet; while she is an incorrigible flirt who upstages her husband without even being on stage by having her male admirers come to her dressing room when Josef begins Hamlet’s famous soliloquy, “To be or not to be…” One of those admirers, Lt. Slobinski (a very young Robert Stack), is a Polish pilot who brings the entire acting troupe into his mission to intercept a double agent before vital information can be given to the Nazis.  What transpires is an outrageously funny shell game between trained killers and trained actors.

I love black comedies, and this is one of the best.  There are so many layers of ironic humor that it might take multiple viewing before you catch everything Lubitsch and his screenwriters were trying to get across. For example, while the audience finds it funny when Josef has his soliloquy—his big moment to shine—constantly interrupted by Maria’s suitors, there is another element to this as well.  While we never get to hear the whole thing, the beginning goes something like this:

To be, or not to be--that is the question:

Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer

The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune

Or to take arms against a sea of troubles

And by opposing end them

These words truly resonate when you apply them to the Nazi peril.  In a way, it’s almost a war cry, if you think about it.  The world was most definitely facing a sea of troubles with the Nazis!

The other shining ironic moment is when Josef, Greenberg (Felix Bressart), Bronski (Tom Dugan) and the rest of the male actors pretend to be Nazis in order to infiltrate a theater event attended by Hitler. Once safely inside, they create a disturbance which allows Bronski to impersonate Hitler himself without the Nazis knowing.  For someone so revered by his underlings, and so unmistakable to the German psyche, this seems brazenly irreverent to me.  What better statement could you make about demagoguery than this?  Is there really a difference between the Führer and a Betrüger (imposter)?  According to Lubitsch and this film, not really.

Packed with sophisticated dialogue and impeccably placed double entendres, To Be or Not to Be is a comedy for the ages.  I can also appreciate the risk that Lubitsch and Alexander Korda took in releasing this film when they did.  Perhaps the American public and film critics weren’t ready for it, but it was just the type of film that the world needed to see in the Spring of 1942.  No one is invincible, and anyone who thinks that they are deserves to be heartily laughed at. 

Trouble in Paradise (1932) **

Love, temptation, and paradise—three things that can cause all kinds of trouble…just ask Eve.

If you asked director Ernst Lubitsch what his best film was he would answer this one. Many critics seem to agree with him—after all, he is the master of the sophisticated romantic comedy. Both Billy Wilder and Howard Hawks thought Lubitsch was a god and openly modeled their work after his. Using his “Lubitsch Touch” to the utmost, Lubitsch pushes the envelope over a cliff with sexual double entendres, witty dialogue, and sophisticated style and grace. Based on Aladar Laszlo’s play The Honest Finder, the story follows a couple of master thieves (played by Herbert Marshall and Miriam Hopkins) who try to outwit one another for the sport of it, as well as for a good chunk of change from a a beautiful businesswoman (played by Kay Francis).

The “Baron” Gaston Monescu (Marshall) and “Countess” Lily Vautier (Hopkins) first meet in Venice, where Lily pretends she’s ashamed to be seen going into his hotel room—but not ashamed enough to try to look inconspicuous. The gown that Hopkins is wearing couldn’t have been any tighter without her breaking a rib. Add the fact that it’s one of those shimmering, backless numbers and you see how one might doubt her meek manner. Anyway, as they are dining in his hotel room and enjoying a bit of sexual repartee, word gets around that there have been a number of robberies in the hotel. As each criminal tries to outwit the other, the truth dawns on Lily and she nonchalantly calls him a crook and then asks him to pass the salt. Thus, each reveals what they have stolen from the other, which serves as a strange form of foreplay for the couple and they declare their love. This scene is sleek, sexy, and sophisticated.

The story then moves to Paris, where we meet Madame Mariette Colet (Francis), the widowed owner of the Colet Perfume Company. Rich beyond compare, she pays 125,000 francs for a diamond-encrusted evening bag, Mariette is a bored and frivolous woman. Her two would-be suitors, Francois (Edward Everett Horton) and the Major (the always delightful Charles Ruggles), vie for her time and affections. Sometimes they even go on dates together, such as to the opera where Mariette has her 125,000 franc purse stolen. Guess who was in the audience that same night?

Time has not been kind to Gaston and Lily. He hit a snag in Geneva and their finances are not what they once were. As a result, the passion has dimmed a bit. When Lily reads in the newspaper about a 20,000 francs reward for the return of Mariette’s lost purse she urges Gaston to turn it in for the reward—he has bigger plans.

When Gaston goes to return the purse he saves Mariette from an angry Bolshevik and endears himself to her. Of course, now he’s Monsieur LaValle—he needs to be incognito since that nasty Geneva incident. He tells Mariette that he only accepts the reward due to the stock market crash. Unable to find her checkbook, Mariette is persuaded by Gaston to look in her wall safe. Obliviously she opens it in front of him, and he stores the combination in his thieving mind. No checkbook, but there is 100,000 francs on hand—if only we all had that problem! It would seem that Mariette isn’t used to handling such issues, but since she discharged her secretary she’s been a bit disorganized. Well, Gaston needs a job and she likes the way he tells her she has no business sense. Voila—Gaston is now her personal secretary—no references please! In short fashion he positions himself as the most powerful person in the Colet house, even more so than Madame herself.

Since Mariette is useless when it comes to business and Gaston is responsible for everything, he needs an assistant. And, so, Lily comes to Chateau Colet and works with Gaston to convince Mariette to keep 850,000 francs in her safe. Lily is no longer dressed in slinky dresses but in unflattering suits.When Mariette suggests that Lily do more of Gaston’s work and that she leave at 5 p.m. every day, Lily becomes convinced that her new boss is out to get her man. Jealous and convinced Gaston is sexually involved (or soon to be) with Mariette, Lily tries to convince Gaston to leave with what is already in the safe. When he says they need to hold out a bit longer, Lily begs him to remain a crook but not to become a “good for nothing gigolo.”

Each day after Lily goes home at 5 p.m., Mariette draws Gaston closer and closer to her. Eventually it becomes obvious that they are involved and Lily starts to become bitterly jealous. If Lily wasn’t problem enough, Gaston has to deal with Francois, one of his victims in Venice. While Francois can’t place Gaston he has a feeling they’ve met before. In addition, the chairman of Mariette’s company, Monsieur Giron (C. Aubrey Smith), is convinced Gaston is an imposter. Eventually, Francois remembers where he’s seen Gaston after snuffing a cigarette in a gondola-shaped ashtray. Somehow Gaston distracts Francois and he forgets to accuse Gaston of wrongdoing. Gaston alerts Lily to the end of the grift and books train tickets to Berlin.

The last section of this film is the best. When Gaston plans to rob the safe while Mariette attends a dinner party, Lubitsch throws in one of his best twists. With a servant awaiting orders about the car, the couple argue over whether she is to go to the party or stay. Taking control for once in her life, Mariette decides to take Gaston as her lover and even snaps her fingers at him to show how quick she can have him. Later, they both emerge from her bedroom door in plain sight of the chauffeur, who is finally told by Gaston that Madame won’t need the car. Oh, but, yes, she will, says Madame. This is priceless. Evidently, Gaston will have to wait until 11 p.m.—but he has to catch the midnight train to Berlin with Lily! He calls her and announces they won’t be leaving until the morning.

While Mariette is at the party, Giron arrives and informs Gaston that he must leave the chateau by the next morning unless he wants the police introduced to Gaston Monescu. Unfortunately for Giron, Gaston has uncovered that he’s been embezzling from the company. With this out of the way, now Gaston must deal with an angry and jealous Lily, who comes to collect her share of the take and to leave Gaston forever.

Meanwhile at the party, Francois’ memory is restored when he hears the word “doctor” and remembers who Gaston is. He informs Mariette, who returns to the chateau just as Lily is leaving. She immediately goes to Gaston’s bedroom and starts taking off her clothes and jewelry. When she goes to place her jewels in the safe Gaston attempts to distract her by telling her of Giron’s embezzlement. Eventually he reveals that he is a crook, but that he loves her, too. Distressed, Mariette returns to her own room to find Lily waiting for her. In a deft move, Lily informs Mariette that she’s the one who robbed the safe and that she is Gaston’s former lover. In one of Miriam Hopkins’ best scenes of all time (not that there are many), she first throws the money back at Mariette and then decides if Mariette can pay 125,000 francs for a handbag she can afford to pay 100,000 for Gaston—thus making him a gigolo. This makes Gaston realize he loves Lily. He bids farewell to Mariette, and she bids farewell to her pearl necklace—a willing gift to Lily.

In the final scene of the film we find the thieves in the back of a taxi cab, making their way to the train station. When Gaston searches for the necklace, Lily reveals she’s already pick-pocketed it and that she took the 125,000 handbag as well—now will he deposit the 100,000 that he took out of her purse.

The dialogue and the story are wonderful. You can’t beat a Lubitsch film when it comes to witty dialogue. He may have not written the screenplay, that marvelous piece of work belongs to Grover Jones, but he had an ear for what worked best and how and at what pace it should be delivered.

Herbert Marshall is his usual charming and suave self. If you’ve seen him in The Letter, then you are familiar with his range. As for Miriam Hopkins, she is bearable. I don’t care for her at all. There is something that always rubs me the wrong way when I watch her in a film. I suppose this is her best performance, but as I’ve already said, there’s not much to choose from. My favorite scenes in the film all have Kay Francis in them. I think she is absolutely wonderful in this role and if it were up to me, Gaston would have stayed right there in her bedroom. The idea that he’d leave her for Miriam Hopkins almost ruins the film. It sort of reminds me of how I felt at the end of Four Weddings and a Funeral. I was so mad when Hugh Grant’s Charles ended up with Andie MacDowell’s Carrie, when he should have realized the best woman for him was Kristin Scott Thomas’ Fiona. Am I the only one who feels this way about these two films?

Finally, while I like this movie, it is not my favorite Lubitsch film. I much prefer Ninotchka. Still, Trouble in Paradise is an enjoyable film that all fans of sophisticated comedy should see.