This was already on my list to watch, and it skyrocketed to the top when I learned it was directed by Ernst Lubitsch; that it was co-written by Billy Wilder is an incredible bonus. Scarcely has the picture begun - the chief star hasn't even shown up on-screen yet - and I'm already captivated. William H. Daniels' cinematography is wonderfully sharp and fluid, frankly far surpassing that of many contemporary titles. The writing (credit for which is shared by Wilder with Walter Reisch, Charles Brackett, and Melchior Lengyel) demonstrates fine wit, good-natured but intelligent humor, and fleet-footed plot development right away. The work of those behind the scenes is readily impressive, including production design, art direction, costume design, and hair and makeup. And as he handily illustrated even in his earliest silent pictures, Lubitsch possesses an incredible knack for orchestrating shots and scenes, and a keen sense of the exact right elements and timing of comedy in that same capacity. Scarcely has the picture begun, and 'Ninotchka' is already wonderfully fun.
To all this add a range of simply marvelous performances. Ina Claire is positively contemptible as Duchess Swana, and she wears the uptight privilege and egotism of the woman as if it were written just for her. Sig Ruman, Felix Bressart, and Alexander Granach are delightful as spirited friends Iranoff, Buljanoff, and Kopalski; at his character's seediest and most poetic, Melvyn Douglas again shows what a consistently superb actor he was. And once the turn comes in her role, Greta Garbo again informs why she was such a big star, for she exhibits exquisite nuance and personality as Ninotchka. Garbo lights up the screen all by herself when she is in a scene, and I can't overstae what a pleasure it is to watch her ply her trade. Furthermore, in the fundamental construction of the screenplay that the cast is working from we see a showcase of the shrewd ingenuity that each writer was known for. The characters are full of life, and the scene writing is at once precise enough to communicate the necessary beats, yet sufficiently open as to allow both Lubitsch and his cast the chance to explore each moment and create of their own. Even the rudimentary stringing together of words in the dialogue portends a finesse that is gratifying as a viewer, to say nothing of some specific, classic lines that are utterly exceptional. With all this at its fingertips, how could the feature do any wrong?
Well, here's how; maybe the film's shimmering armor isn't totally impeccable. There is something to be said for some measure of fault in the writing insofar as it takes the cheap route of potshots and false dichotomies. The utmost caricatures that are the Russian characters (the title character especially) are paired with emphatic commentary, whether direct or underhanded, on the difficulties, foibles, or outright crimes committed by the Soviet Union under the ostensible auspices of communism as these characters' flaws and weak principles are also spotlighted, and as the portraiture of Russia is as an embodiment of humorless gloom. Meanwhile the arrogance, frivolous excess, and outright crimes of capitalist society are almost completely washed over, actively dismissed, or even upheld as a moral good as other characters are written, not least Douglas' almost mindlessly pompous Count Léon, as the culture is instead represented as being pure joy, joy, joy all the time, for one and all. Oh yes, all this is penned with only the greatest and most smooth cleverness. Yet it's terribly tired, and tiredly terrible, to proclaim that everything "the west" does is to be held in total reverence, while the activities and attitudes of those commonly "othered" by dominant powers are to be mocked or castigated - even when there is no meaningful distinction, or when "western" notions of the same matter are possibly even more harmful. This was as true in the 1930s as it is in 2022, and the very best acting, direction, and otherwise writing does nothing to change that.
There surely could have been a smarter way to tell this story without relying on such stereotypes and assumptions. For all the excellence for which Lubitsch, Wilder and his co-writers, and others involved are known, 'Ninotchka' rather depends on its viewers to be ignorant to the realities of global geopolitics, and the way that the narrative of dynamics between societies and nations is so completely twisted and controlled. As if to emphasize the point, when the movie does try to be distinctly wiser and say something more serious, or downright biting in these matters (that is, above all, in the somewhat disjointed repartee between Ninotchka and the Countess), it quite feels out of place, and moreover as if the writers' reach exceeded their grasp. This is deeply unfortunate - because at its best, this is terrifically entertaining and overflowing with cunning acumen of the romantic comedy. The screenplay is at its best where it focuses concretely on the two lead characters, on the conflicts between them and the growing middle ground, and on the dialogue and scene writing less those broader ideas that the picture struggles with. Or to put it all more succinctly: this could have been a romantic comedy about two very different people coming together, with cheeky quips sagely making use of discrepancies between cultures; it could have been a romantic drama highlighting the harsh sociopolitical undercurrents; it could have been a farce (and not a great one) entirely playing off those stated conceptions that are much more questionable and base, in which every joke is only ever to the advantage of capitalism and at the expense of other politics. 'Ninotchka,' however, tries to be all these things, and the amalgamation is more imperfect for the fact of it. It even feels overlong, despite a brilliant resolution of the plot. That feeling is amplified by one final scene, the sparing last few seconds; while not totally out of line with the thoughts the screenplay has been dallying with (and not necessarily very well), the inclusion is such a peculiar and divergent note to end on that my favor takes another hit. What if Peter Jackson's 'Return of the king' ended not with the door closing, but with a sudden cutaway for a few seconds of Gimli and Legolas sharing a drink?
I've written more words of criticism than of praise, which does not convey my opinion with full accuracy. Please understand that I did very much enjoy this movie, and I think it's very much worth watching. It's well made, and well acted, and the writing at its best is stupendous. I also, however, think 'Ninotchka' is imbalanced, and bit off more than it could chew from at least three different plates. I'd be lying if I said I weren't kind of let down; I've seen no few of Lubitsch's comedies and adore them, and I know very well what the screenwriters are capable of, and the actors. By all means, this has a strong reputation no matter how you slice it. Such esteem and value must be weighed against a feature's faults, however, and in this case I think the end result is noticeably weighed down by them. Sure, one could just try to take the tale at face value and enjoy it as a silly little romp; only, the tale also very pointedly tries to do and say more, and that effort is much more uneven. For good and for ill this deserves one's time and attention, both for what it does well and in recognition, in my opinion, of how it went wrong. At that - I'm glad for those who appreciate the film more than I do. When all is said and done, 'Ninotchka' is and should be remembered well, but I just also think that luminosity should be turned down a little so we can see its deficiencies, too.
To all this add a range of simply marvelous performances. Ina Claire is positively contemptible as Duchess Swana, and she wears the uptight privilege and egotism of the woman as if it were written just for her. Sig Ruman, Felix Bressart, and Alexander Granach are delightful as spirited friends Iranoff, Buljanoff, and Kopalski; at his character's seediest and most poetic, Melvyn Douglas again shows what a consistently superb actor he was. And once the turn comes in her role, Greta Garbo again informs why she was such a big star, for she exhibits exquisite nuance and personality as Ninotchka. Garbo lights up the screen all by herself when she is in a scene, and I can't overstae what a pleasure it is to watch her ply her trade. Furthermore, in the fundamental construction of the screenplay that the cast is working from we see a showcase of the shrewd ingenuity that each writer was known for. The characters are full of life, and the scene writing is at once precise enough to communicate the necessary beats, yet sufficiently open as to allow both Lubitsch and his cast the chance to explore each moment and create of their own. Even the rudimentary stringing together of words in the dialogue portends a finesse that is gratifying as a viewer, to say nothing of some specific, classic lines that are utterly exceptional. With all this at its fingertips, how could the feature do any wrong?
Well, here's how; maybe the film's shimmering armor isn't totally impeccable. There is something to be said for some measure of fault in the writing insofar as it takes the cheap route of potshots and false dichotomies. The utmost caricatures that are the Russian characters (the title character especially) are paired with emphatic commentary, whether direct or underhanded, on the difficulties, foibles, or outright crimes committed by the Soviet Union under the ostensible auspices of communism as these characters' flaws and weak principles are also spotlighted, and as the portraiture of Russia is as an embodiment of humorless gloom. Meanwhile the arrogance, frivolous excess, and outright crimes of capitalist society are almost completely washed over, actively dismissed, or even upheld as a moral good as other characters are written, not least Douglas' almost mindlessly pompous Count Léon, as the culture is instead represented as being pure joy, joy, joy all the time, for one and all. Oh yes, all this is penned with only the greatest and most smooth cleverness. Yet it's terribly tired, and tiredly terrible, to proclaim that everything "the west" does is to be held in total reverence, while the activities and attitudes of those commonly "othered" by dominant powers are to be mocked or castigated - even when there is no meaningful distinction, or when "western" notions of the same matter are possibly even more harmful. This was as true in the 1930s as it is in 2022, and the very best acting, direction, and otherwise writing does nothing to change that.
There surely could have been a smarter way to tell this story without relying on such stereotypes and assumptions. For all the excellence for which Lubitsch, Wilder and his co-writers, and others involved are known, 'Ninotchka' rather depends on its viewers to be ignorant to the realities of global geopolitics, and the way that the narrative of dynamics between societies and nations is so completely twisted and controlled. As if to emphasize the point, when the movie does try to be distinctly wiser and say something more serious, or downright biting in these matters (that is, above all, in the somewhat disjointed repartee between Ninotchka and the Countess), it quite feels out of place, and moreover as if the writers' reach exceeded their grasp. This is deeply unfortunate - because at its best, this is terrifically entertaining and overflowing with cunning acumen of the romantic comedy. The screenplay is at its best where it focuses concretely on the two lead characters, on the conflicts between them and the growing middle ground, and on the dialogue and scene writing less those broader ideas that the picture struggles with. Or to put it all more succinctly: this could have been a romantic comedy about two very different people coming together, with cheeky quips sagely making use of discrepancies between cultures; it could have been a romantic drama highlighting the harsh sociopolitical undercurrents; it could have been a farce (and not a great one) entirely playing off those stated conceptions that are much more questionable and base, in which every joke is only ever to the advantage of capitalism and at the expense of other politics. 'Ninotchka,' however, tries to be all these things, and the amalgamation is more imperfect for the fact of it. It even feels overlong, despite a brilliant resolution of the plot. That feeling is amplified by one final scene, the sparing last few seconds; while not totally out of line with the thoughts the screenplay has been dallying with (and not necessarily very well), the inclusion is such a peculiar and divergent note to end on that my favor takes another hit. What if Peter Jackson's 'Return of the king' ended not with the door closing, but with a sudden cutaway for a few seconds of Gimli and Legolas sharing a drink?
I've written more words of criticism than of praise, which does not convey my opinion with full accuracy. Please understand that I did very much enjoy this movie, and I think it's very much worth watching. It's well made, and well acted, and the writing at its best is stupendous. I also, however, think 'Ninotchka' is imbalanced, and bit off more than it could chew from at least three different plates. I'd be lying if I said I weren't kind of let down; I've seen no few of Lubitsch's comedies and adore them, and I know very well what the screenwriters are capable of, and the actors. By all means, this has a strong reputation no matter how you slice it. Such esteem and value must be weighed against a feature's faults, however, and in this case I think the end result is noticeably weighed down by them. Sure, one could just try to take the tale at face value and enjoy it as a silly little romp; only, the tale also very pointedly tries to do and say more, and that effort is much more uneven. For good and for ill this deserves one's time and attention, both for what it does well and in recognition, in my opinion, of how it went wrong. At that - I'm glad for those who appreciate the film more than I do. When all is said and done, 'Ninotchka' is and should be remembered well, but I just also think that luminosity should be turned down a little so we can see its deficiencies, too.