Hugo (2011) ****

Every once in awhile cinema has a stellar year: 1939, 1940, 1941, 1950, 1957, 1962, 1967, 1976, and 1994 spring to mind. I now feel confident that we can add 2011 to that esteemed list, primarily because of such films as The Artist, The Descendants, Extremely Loud & Incredibly Close, The Help, Midnight in Paris, A Separation, In Darkness, and today’s entry: Hugo. Granted, some are better than others, but taken as a whole they serve to make 2011 one of the best years for film in almost two decades. It is my opinion that director Martin Scorsese’s Hugo is the standout production from this illustrious year.

Based on Brian Selznick’s 2007 novel, The Invention of Hugo Cabret, Hugo is about an orphaned Parisian boy (Asa Butterfield) who keeps the Paris Gare Montparnasse Railway Station’s clocks moving.  Apprenticed to his drunk, absentee uncle (Ray Winstone), Hugo is an extremely lonely boy whose only friend appears to be a broken automaton (think Metropolis) that he and his father (Jude Law) were attempting to fix before Mr. Cabret was killed in a fire. To attain parts to the automaton, Hugo steals them from the railway station’s toymaker, Georges Méliès (Ben Kingsley), who begrudgingly befriends the boy after witnessing his mechanical acumen. Hugo also become friends with Méliès goddaughter and ward, Isabelle (Chloë Grace Moretz), who happens to possess the key (quite literally) to fixing the automaton.  Once fixed, the automaton draws the now iconic symbol of the spaceship in the eye of the moon from A Trip to the Moon (1902).  The children set off to discover what the drawing means, and this adventure leads them to discover that the toymaker was once one of cinema’s greatest filmmakers. There’s much more to the story, but I won’t spoil it for those of you who haven’t seen it yet.

Scorsese, along with acclaimed cinematographer Robert Richardson (who won an Oscar for this film), shot Hugo is 3-D. My words can not do justice to the sheer beauty of what they put up on the screen.  Without a doubt this is Scorsese’s visual masterpiece, it is a shame that he didn’t win a Best Director Oscar, but obviously the Academy was in love with The Artist in 2011. From the shots of the interworking of the clocks to the spectacular railway shots, everything seems so much crisper and fluid than what I’ve seen in other 3-D films.  Hugo deservedly won five Academy Awards for its visual and audio mastery: cinematography, art direction, visual effects, sound editing, and sound mixing. The only technical award that it didn’t win was for film editing, which went to The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo (I haven’t seen this yet, so I can’t make a judgment on which deserved the Oscar more).

But this movie isn’t just visually stunning, it also has an engaging and endearing story.  Watching all of the plot elements come together at the end was perhaps a bit oversentimental, but still highly enjoyable.  For a film filled with so many emotionally (and in one case, physically) broken people Hugo never becomes overburdened by melancholy. I was especially pleased with the care Scorsese and Oscar-nominated screenwriter John Logan took in developing Méliès’s backstory. Yes, they took a few historical licenses in this depiction, but for the most part they were fairly accurate. Few directors have as much reverence for the history of film as Scorsese. By inserting clips of the most important films prior to 1931 (when this story takes place) Scorsese showcases the grandeur of early cinema.  On a side note, I must thank The 1001 Book for my ability to recognize just about every film referenced in Hugo.

In addition to outstanding visuals and a moving story, Hugo is also loaded with a number of standout performances. Both Butterfield and Moretz show great range for such young actors.  Butterfield, in particular, has what is known as screen presence (of course, that could have been an added advantage to being shot in 3-D).  Not surprisingly, Kingsley is mesmerizing as Méliès.  If you’ve seen any old photos of the famed director then you know the make-up department did a fantastic job transforming Kingsley into Méliès.  The most surprising performance came from Sacha Baron Cohen as Inspector Gustave.  Who knew that the man who created such idiotic caricatures as Borat, Ali G, Bruno, and General Aladeen, could play a complete buffoon with so much restraint? I have to admit I was completely shocked by how nice of a job he did with this role.

I could go on and on about how much I liked Hugo, but I expect you are tired of reading (if you’ve made it this far), so I’ll end by saying that it is one of the best films I’ve seen in the last ten years.  It is truly a monumental piece of cinematic vision.

 

Network (1976 ) ****

When Paddy Chayefsky wrote his Oscar-winning screenplay for Network (1976) it was supposed to be satirical. Lensed through the 1976 eye I’m sure audiences found an opinion-spouting news anchor and a network devoted to developing reality-based programming as absurd. To the first-time 2012 viewer it just seems par for the course.  Obviously, news anchor Howard Beale (Oscar-winner Peter Finch) was not the only prophet working on Network.

One of the promotional posters for Network warned: “Prepare yourself for a perfectly outrageous motion picture”. This behind the scenes look at a struggling TV network (UBS) and the people who shape its message is wickedly funny.  When ratings decline the network decides to fire long-time news anchor Beale and hire an outrageous ratings-whore programming director, Diana Christensen (Oscar-winner Faye Dunaway).  After Beale loses it on the air and encourages his audience to shout out their windows: "I'm as mad as hell, and I'm not going to take this anymore” Christensen’s brain almost explodes when it calculates the possible ratings points that The Howard Beale Show, starring the mad prophet of the airways himself, could garner.  Not everyone thinks this is a good idea, namely news division director Max Schumacher (Oscar-nominated William Holden).  Of course, he has his own problems, as the network’s hatchet man, Frank Hackett (Robert Duvall), wants Schumacher out, too.  Soon, Schumacher finds himself forced into retirement and engaged in a May-December affair with Christensen, a woman he both loves and views as “television incarnate: indifferent to suffering; insensitive to joy”.  Christensen will do anything for a 50 share: create a show called The Mao-Tse Tung Hour, featuring a radical group of terrorists called the Ecumenical Liberation Army; push a lover out of his job if he doesn’t agree to work with her on her programming ideas; and, plan the assassination of Beale when his ratings drop—thus, insuring even higher ratings for the second season of The Mao-Tse Tung Hour.  It sounded and played as outrageous in 1976, today it doesn’t seem too far-fetched when you think of certain “news” personalities or the over-saturation of reality-based series we find across the airwaves on a daily basis.  Hell, we’ve even had a live execution on TV—Diana would be so very proud with how far programming has come in the last 30+ years. 

No script is ever strong enough to stand on its own, not even one as good as Network’s, so it helped that five great actors played significant roles in the film.  Legendary Hollywood star William Holden was the perfect choice for the jaded, world-weary Max Schumacher, because by 1976 that was exactly what he was.  He’d played jaded characters in the 1950s and 1960s, but by the 1970s he knew the perils of the entertainment industry on both one’s health and psyche and he perfectly showcased it in his performance. 

For Peter Finch, Howard Beale was the role of a lifetime—literally, as he died of a massive heart attack while promoting it.  He would be the first of two people to win a posthumous Academy Award for his unflinching portrayal of the unhinged news anchor.  As long as people watch films he will be remembered for delivering one of the most iconic lines in cinematic history: "I'm as mad as hell, and I'm not going to take this anymore”. Finch played angry men well, never too over-the-top with just enough angst that you felt compelled to watch their meltdowns.  What makes his performance even more stunning is that he mostly plays off himself—90% of his scenes are comprised of him speaking to his audience—there is no give and take between actors, just a lot of giving on Finch’s part.  It must have been a viscerally exciting part to play.

Supporting players, Robert Duvall and Ned Beatty, added their own unique brands to the film. Duvall played his cut-throat vice-president of programming and all around-axe man with just the right amount of menace and coolness.  His character is reprehensible and you know it.  Beatty, who plays Arthur Jensen (and was nominated for an Academy Award), the chairman of the conglomerate that owns UBS, is in just a handful of scenes but they are some of the best in the entire movie.  When his Jensen explains to Beale why everything is connected (the corporate/international cosmology speech) you don’t know just what to believe. Is he telling Beale these insane things to placate his star’s delusions or deep-down is what he is saying really true, but just with a little crazy dust sprinkled on for Beale?  And, really, when you think about it, isn’t Jensen just a bit right when he says (paraphrased for brevity's sake):

“There are no nations. There are no peoples… There is only one holistic system of systems, one vast and immane, interwoven, interacting, multivariate, multinational dominion of dollars. Petro-dollars, electro-dollars, multi-dollars, reichmarks, rins, rubles, pounds, and shekels. It is the international system of currency which determines the totality of life on this planet. That is the natural order of things today. That is the atomic and subatomic and galactic structure of things today! There is no America. There is no democracy. There is only IBM, and ITT, and AT&T, and DuPont, Dow, Union Carbide, and Exxon. Those are the nations of the world today. We no longer live in a world of nations and ideologies, Mr. Beale. The world is a college of corporations, inexorably determined by the immutable bylaws of business. The world is a business, Mr. Beale…One vast and ecumenical holding company, for whom all men will work to serve a common profit, in which all men will hold a share of stock. All necessities provided, all anxieties tranquilized, all boredom amused.”

But what makes this film so unforgettable is Faye Dunaway’s flawless performance as Diana. Director Sidney Lumet was worried about working with Dunaway, as she had (has) a reputation as being difficult, so he met with her before filming began. Even before she could say a word to him he said to her, “I know the first thing you’re going to ask me: Where’s her vulnerability? Don’t ask it. She has none. If you try to sneak it in, I’ll get rid of it in the cutting room, so it’ll be wasted effort.” And, there is no vulnerability—Diana is self-preservation personified.  This woman lives for television and ratings.  Everything, and I mean everything, revolves around TV. If you are discussing market shares and demographics during sex you know things have gone too far for you. When opening the discussion about a pending affair with: “here we are: Middle-aged man reaffirming his middle-aged manhood, and a terrified young woman with a father complex. What sort of script do you think we can make out of this?” things probably aren’t going to end well. And, when you end a relationship by saying: “I don't like the way this script of ours has turned out. It's turning into a seedy little drama” and your partner asks if you’re cancelling the show (your relationship) you are just too, too much.  She was a reality TV star without even being on TV.  And, who could make self-absorption and bitchy look sexier than Dunaway?  Just a phenomenal performance.

Overall, Network was nominated for ten Academy Awards (it won four, including Best Supporting Actress Beatrice Straight).  While it might have lost out to Rocky (1976) for Best Picture, it is one of the most important films of the 1970s. It tapped into something about the entertainment industry that most people in 1976 thought was nothing more than black comedy—ah, but what a prophetic film it turned out to be. 

Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon (2000) ****

Director Ann Lee’s Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon (2000) redefined what a wuxia  film could and should be.  Throughout the genre’s history there has been an overabundance of emphasis placed on the fight sequences, while the plot and/or character development aspects play second fiddle.  Lee, with the aid of an Academy Award nominated screenplay, revolutionized this thinking and created a film which is both visually striking and intellectually engaging.  It won the Best Foreign Language Film Oscar (and was also nominated for an overall Best Picture Oscar)--something unheard of in this genre—primarily due to: an outstanding story; spectacular action sequences; and, breathtaking cinematography.

Based on Wang Dulu’s novel of the same name, Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon is a hard story to define. At times, it is a revenge tale. Master swordsman Li Mu Bai (Chow Yun-Fat) is determined to kill Jade Fox (Cheng Pei-pei), the murderer of his Wudang master.  But then, it is also a story about female independence and empowerment. When Jen (Zhang Ziyi) steals Li Mu Bai’s treasured sword, the Green Destiny, we learn she is an accomplished Wudan warrior who wants desperately to escape her pre-determined role as the docile wife of a man she does not even know, let alone love.  But then there’s more—it is also a love story—well, actually two love stories.  There is an unfulfilled peaceful love story between Li Mu Bai and his longtime friend Yu Shu Lien (Michelle Yeoh) that runs throughout the film.  And, then there is also the fiery relationship between Jen and Lo (Chang Chen) that inserts itself midway into the movie.  All of these elements combine seamlessly to create an engrossing story that comes to a tragic metaphysical conclusion. There is no clear-cut understanding of the ending—each viewer will have their own interpretation. While I’m usually against this type of ending, it works here, and, I think it is what cements this as an exceptional film.

Yet, when most people who haven’t actually seen the film hear Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon they envision clips of the magnificent fight sequences. That is to be expected, as these are what are highlighted in YouTube videos and promo clips.  Acclaimed fight choreographer Lee Wu-Ping used wires (and nothing else) to allow his fighters to skip across rooftops, treetops, and even water.  Not since King Hu’s spectacular fight sequences in Come Drink With Me (1966) and A Touch of Zen (1969) have I seen such wuxia artistry.  It is obvious that Wu-Ping was a fan of Hu’s because he pays homage to both Hu’s famous teahouse scene and his famed bamboo forest showdown. Yet, Wu-Ping brings his own particular artistic vision to Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon, too. For one, the swordplay is both powerful and serene at the same time.  As I said above, there is a metaphysical feel to the film, and I think Wu-Ping developed his fights to accentuate this fact.  There is no barbarism here. Instead, there is tranquil violence, which I think makes the action sequences appear both beautiful and reflective.

Now, if you are going to have a metaphysical film packed with eye-catching fight sequences you better have a good cinematographer.  Peter Pau won an Academy Award for his spectacular cinematography.  Whether he was shooting the Gobi Desert, a tree-topped forest, or the interiors of Peking, each image is full of color and texture.  Working alongside Tim Yip’s Oscar-winning art direction, Pau created a visual blueprint for future wuxia cinematographers—which is kind of ironic, as he wasn’t even Lee’s first or second choice for the film.  (It is obvious that Pau’s work here influenced Christopher Doyle’s work on Hero (2002) and Xiaoding Zhao’s work on House of Flying Daggers (2004).) The vast expanse shots he creates of the Gobi Desert are spatially mesmerizing, and his work in the bamboo forest is supremely stellar.  While it is the story that I love most about Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon, it is Pau’s images that are forever implanted in my mind.

For a wuxia film Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon did pretty darn well with critics and audiences.  It was nominated for ten Academy Awards (taking home four) and earned over $200 million worldwide in box office gross.  It also revolutionized the wuxia genre, and raised the bar for future films.  It, alongside its greatest benefactor, Hero (2002), are two of my all-time favorite action films.  It proved that a movie can be a great action film and still merit artistic and philosophical significance. 

Jezebel (1938) ****

(This is my contribution to the William Wyler Blogathon.  Please check out all of the wonderful blogs participating in this great event, which is hosted by The Movie Projector and runs June 24-29.)

Of all the directors screen legend Bette Davis worked with in her storied Hollywood career William Wyler was her favorite.  They worked together three times: Jezebel (1938), The Letter (1940), and The Little Foxes (1941)—she received an Academy Award nomination for all three films.  No other director knew how to handle Davis like Wyler. As an actress Davis was known for her uncompromising dedication to her roles, no matter if she were playing a complete shrew in Of Human Bondage (1934) or an alcoholic actress in Dangerous (1935). She was also known for her ability to hijack a picture from a weak-willed director. And, this is the main reason she and Wyler worked so well together: he was anything but weak-willed.  He, like Davis, was a perfectionist.  The difference is he knew perfect when he saw it, while she had the habit of assumption.  What I mean by this is that she often thought if she held nothing back and gave the most honest and raw take that she could then it must have been perfect.  Yet, Wyler knew there was more to capturing cinematic greatness and that is what he taught Davis when they worked together on Jezebel. 

Based on the 1934 Owen Davis play of the same name, Jezebel, which was nominated for five Academy Awards, including Best Picture, tells the tragic story of headstrong New Orleans debutante, Julie Marsden (Davis, in a role that was originated on the stage by her not BFF Miriam Hopkins). When Julie decides to test the love and patience of her longtime on-and-off-again beau Preston Dillard (Henry Fonda) on the cusp of the announcement of their engagement by wearing a red dress to the Olympus Ball (where all unwed women wear white) she sets in motion a series of events that lead to her eventual downfall.  There are three things that make Jezebel such a memorable picture: the costume design, the Olympus ball scenes, and Davis’ performance. 

The story takes place in 1850s New Orleans, so when the first glance we get of our heroine is her riding a hellish horse and wearing a riding habit we should know she’s a bit progressive for the times in which she lives.  The fact that she would wear said riding habit into greet a roomful of “properly” dressed guests to a party she’s late for only compounds the fact that Julie Marsden is obviously a feminist.  Still, the riding habit is by far the least memorable of the costumes Davis wears in Jezebel when one remembers the infamous red dress and the virginal white gown she wears to beg Press to take her back.  Designed by Orry-Kelly, every costume Davis wears is perfectly matched to the scene in which it is worn.  The dress most remember is the red gown that gets poor Julie into all kinds of trouble.  To answer Julie’s question upon seeing it: yes, it was saucy!  What most people don’t know about the dress is that it was first made out of red satin but when photographed in black and white it looked dull, so the color had to be changed to rust-brown to appear red on film.  Still, it is a rather startling dress, especially when it is contrasted against all the white gowns at the Olympus Ball.  It fits Davis perfectly and matches Julie’s fiery personality at that point in the movie.  The other standout gown is the frilly, virginal white dress that Julie wears when she greets Press at Halycon Plantation.  At this juncture in the film Julie is filled with humility and repentance and is more than willing to lower herself before her beloved.  This is a key point, because when Orry-Kelly designed this dress he had to make sure it showed well when Julie literally kneels at Press’s feet and begs him to take her back. She is enveloped by the dress and it shows just how small Julie feels about the way she’s behaved. 

That bad behavior, of course, is on full display at the Olympus Ball.  After Julie refuses to change her red dress before going to the ball Press decides he’s going to teach her a lesson in humility. For a sequence that was originally scheduled for only a half-day of shooting the ball scenes turned out to be some of the best in the film.  A half-day soon turned into five excruciating days of extensive takes and camera movements.  The ballroom was huge and had a massive chandelier that hung oppressively overhead. Countless couples (all “properly” attired) are dancing as a full orchestra plays a waltz when Press and Julie enter the ballroom.  When Press removes Julie’s cloak to reveal her scandalous dress all eyes are shockingly focused on the young couple for a moment.  They literally walk the gauntlet as they slowly walk past a line of men who Press warningly glares at. It is at this moment that Wyler and Oscar-nominated cinematographer Ernest Haller focus in on Julie’s eyes, which go from defiant to humiliated in a matter of seconds. Things become even more intense when Press forces her to dance, even as the entire floor of dancers leave the floor, repulsed by the couple’s impropriety. The overhead shot of the empty dance floor, sans Press and Julie, is almost unbearable to watch. The scene itself is what I like to refer to as a theatre of tragedy.  Press and Julie are the actors, while the other attendants are the audience.  As his grip tightens around her waist while she begs him to take her home, you see them encircled by those white dresses in a domineering overhead shot. A spotlight literally shows the complete disintegration of their relationship.  It is one of the most powerful, almost completely non-verbal scenes I recall ever watching. 

Of Davis’ many great performances, Julie Marsden is most probably the most subtle.  Davis had Wyler to thank for this, as well as for her Best Actress Oscar statuette. Perhaps one of the reasons most people don’t remember Julie as a bitch is because of the way Wyler asked Davis to play her.  Instead of speaking aggressively and dealing death glances with her eyes, Davis was asked to play Julie with a smile on her face and a sweet lilt in her voice.  She may have been giving Press hell or inciting duels, but she did it with a sweet Southern smile and a coquettish twinkle in her eye. At first when Wyler asked Davis to play her character like this she didn’t understand and was very off-put, but after watching the rushes she soon realized that her director was right. I think that is what makes Julie one of her most memorable characters—she was so different from the roles Davis usually played.  I mean, really, who can ever forget how she looked as she knelt before Press—completely humble and innocent—begging for his forgiveness and love.  How often did Bette Davis kneel before any man?  And, then, of course, you have that indescribably baffled look on her face when Press introduces his new wife (Margaret Lindsay) to her.  As she takes a moment to take in what he’s said you can see her internal struggle to understand what has just taken place. Her only response, obviously dumbfounded, “Your wife?”  Priceless.

Oddly enough, Jezebel had as much drama happening behind the scenes as it did in front of the camera.  For one thing, Wyler and Davis started a torrid affair that reportedly resulted in a pregnancy. And, perhaps to fully encompass the role of Jezebel, who in the words of Aunt Belle (Best Supporting Actress winner Fay Bainter) was “a woman who did evil in the sight of God,” Davis also conducted an affair with Fonda after having a fight with Wyler.  It took a phone call from Fonda’s pregnant wife (she was carrying Jane) to make Davis end the fling.  In addition, at one point Jack Warner was seriously considering replacing Wyler with William Dieterle because Wyler was so far behind schedule and over budget. Davis had to plead with Warner to keep Wyler and promised to work until midnight every night if that’s what it took to finish the film with Wyler.  In the end, the film finished a month late and nearly $400,000 over budget.  Ah, but it was all worth it, as Jezebel made Bette Davis a superstar and William Wyler a top-tier director. 

The Social Network (2010) ****

Rarely does a megalomaniac get their comeuppance at such an early age as does Mark Zuckerberg (Jesse Eisenberg) in The Social Network (2010). Adapted from Ben Mezrich’s book The Accidental Billionaires, the film focuses on how Facebook was created and the lawsuits that followed.  It is a lacerating and ironic examination of the world in which we live today—Zuckerberg just serves as the unlikable whipping boy of an entire generation. 

The Internet has developed into an alternate reality for many people.  It is the place where anyone can seem interesting—especially those people who are socially awkward and personality-deprived.  It is the place where you can write on your blog that your now ex-girlfriend is a bitch and that she has small breasts.  It is the place where you can rate your fellow students and co-workers as “hot” or “not hot”.  It allows you to say whatever you want about someone without having to say it to their face.  It helps you make “friends” that you could never make in person. Quite simply, you could have the social skills of a paper bag and the personality of a megalomaniac and still found a billion dollar website about connecting with people.  Could anything be more ironic than this?

Yet, there is another, often overlooked, theme in this movie that screenwriter Aaron Sorkin focuses on: intellectual property theft. While Sorkin doesn’t delve into this as fully as he might have, it is still there.  While the whole debate about how much Zuckerberg appropriated from the Winklevoss twins (Armie Hammer) and Divya Narendra (Max Minghella) is examined in both Mezrich’s book and Sorkin’s screenplay, I believe there is an underlying critique of what the Internet has done to the integrity of intellectual property.  In cases like that of the Winklevoss twins you might have the original idea for something, but then someone can come along polish it up and then pass it off as their own and have no qualms about doing so because they believe they made it better.  It is sort of like this blog (and countless others) about the 1001 book.  Steven Jay Schneider and his fellow editors came up with the original idea, but other people have piggybacked off of it. Are we a society that lacks originality, or have we become a world comprised of adapters—as Sorkin himself is, by adapting a screenplay (an Oscar winning one by the way) from Mezrich’s book?  I often ponder this question—perhaps you should, too.

The reason I like The Social Network so much is because I think it is a brutal analysis of  what the Internet Age has done to society.  Still, a film like this would be nothing without a superb cast and production team.  While I think Eisenberg does a tremendous job of not turning Zuckerberg into a caricature, I found both Justin Timberlake and Andrew Garfield’s performances to be more compelling.  Timberlake plays Sean Parker with just the right amount of smarminess and manic-ness (the OED hasn’t made this a word yet, but they should).  I hated his character (I think that’s what Sorkin was going for), but loved how Timberlake made be loathe him. 

Garfield’s Eduardo is the most sympathetic character in the entire picture—of course, this could have had something to do with his serving as an adviser on Mezrich’s book.  Still, I thought Garfield played Eduardo as a young man caught in a bad situation quite well. He plays an often confounded grown-up in a quiet, somewhat restricted way, while Eisenberg gets free reign to turn Zuckerberg into one of the biggest asses ever. Garfield is often unjustly overlooked, but without him the film would have lost its moral compass.  I suppose the fact that my favorite scene in the entire movie is when Eduardo tells Zuckerberg and Parker that he won’t be pushed out willingly might make me biased towards him.  When he says to Zuckerberg: “You better lawyer up asshole, because I'm not coming back for 30%, I'm coming back for everything!” I felt that righteous indignation nudge that makes me identify with someone who has been wronged.  Plus, I absolutely loved how he made Sean Parker cower in fear when he pretended like he was going to hit him.  The best line in the entire film is when he says, “I like standing next to you, Sean. It makes me look so tough.” What a way to be thrown out of your own company!

Overall, The Social Network is a film that expertly represents the time period in which it was made.  It says something rather profound about the Internet Age and about the social network that has evolved from it. 

 

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. 

Grift Tips from The Lady Eve (1941) ****

(While this is my own unique retelling of the story, there are spoilers.)

Good God, I do look good!  Oh, hello there, suckers.  My name’s Jean Harrington (some of the time at least), and I’ve been asked to discuss the art of the grift (con, scam, swindle—got it now, schmuck?).  This is a complicated subject and can take years to master, so I’m gonna dumb it down for those of you who weren’t raised in the racket and focus on my own personal story.

Some people are just born to be grifters—in my case, literally. I was raised by a card sharp named ‘Colonel’ ‘Harry’ Harrington (Charles Coburn). Grift Tip No. 1: Anyone who has ‘ ’ around their name is not to be trusted. You see, you’re either a colonel or you’re not—there’s a big difference between Colonel Custard and ‘Colonel’ Sanders…unless you’re a hungry Indian craving white meat.  Now, don’t get me wrong, I trust Harry, but that’s because I know all of his tricks and I never take my eyes off of him. 

As far back as I can remember Harry and I worked the luxury liners with our ‘valet’ Gerald (Melville Cooper).  There are lots of rich mugs who think they know how to play cards—problem is, they’re always under the illusion that everybody plays fair and square.  Yes, there’s a sucker born every minute—even in a silver spoon nursery. Grift Tip No. 2: If you want to be seen as rich all you have to do is wear designer clothes and tasteful jewelry;  hint at an oil field or a gold mine; and, appear affable and sophisticated.  And, that brings me to the greatest mark in grifter history—Charles ‘Hopsie’ Pike (Henry Fonda).

Heir to a brewery fortune, Hopsie was a snake enthusiast and a chump I met on an outbound boat from South America.  My first impression of him was that he needed more fiber in his diet, so I dropped an apple on the lunkhead.  This not being a proper introduction, I bided my time by picking out my sexiest outfit (a two-piece number: long black skirt with a slit up to heaven and a short black beaded top which exposed my flat midriff) designed by my personal couturier, Edith Head. I then strategically placed myself in the dining room and waited for an '”accidental” meeting. 

Grift Tip No. 3: The best way to appear disinterested but still keep your eyes on the prize is to use a pocket mirror to spy on your prey—plus, you can reassure yourself that you are definitely worth it. Once your mark has been spooked by countless hapless fortune hunters and attempts his escape, nonchalantly stick your glamorous gam out and trip him. And, that’s exactly what I did to Hopsie.  I just had a feeling that man was a klutz!  While he was still on the defensive I feigned indignation and outrage that he broke one of my pricey heels.  I then demanded that he escort me to my cabin to exchange my evening slippers. Once I had him alone in my room I turned up the heat and showed off my assets—first impressions are everything, you see.  Men who have been trapped in the jungle for an extended amount of time are susceptible to intoxicating perfume, sexual repartee, and light, but not so innocent, petting.  Suffice to say, Hopsie was quickly on the hook and all I had to do was reel him in, but then something quite shameful happened—I fell in love with my mark.

I don’t know how it happened: one minute I’m thinking what a schmuck this guy is for showing Harry and me how to palm a card and counting all the money we’re gonna take from him, and then the next thing I know I’m planning on marrying him and going straight.  Surely, I must have caught some strange jungle disease when I ran my fingers through his hair and canoodled with him!  I started spending my time double-dealing Harry and conducting business on moonlit decks.  When I look back on it all I should have seen the signs of fever-induced delusions: wearing a Christmas stocking as a hat, acting out scenes from Titanic, and believing that I could settle down with an ophiologist—a word and an occupation that decent people should never have to learn about!  It was all going so fast and I didn’t know whether to jump ship or get on board with love.  Then, something inexplicable happened: the grifter became the grifted.  Seems I’d been played for a fool by Hopsie—he’d known all along that Harry and I were con artists and he just wanted to teach us a lesson. Grift Tip No. 4: Love is for suckers! No explanation needed, I’m sure!

You’d think this is where the story ends, but what kind of grifter would I be if I told a story where I ended up with the shortest matchstick? No, I knew I couldn’t be so wrong about how much of a dope Hopsie was and I kept an eye out for an opportunity to settle the score.  Due to pesky U-boats in the Atlantic, my crew and I had to settle in the Big Apple for awhile. One day, after losing a good chunk of change on a horse that ran fifth in a five-horse race (really, what did we expect when we bet on a goat called "After You?"), we ran into Alfie, or Sir Alfred McGlennan Keith to his common American marks (Eric Blore).  When I learned Sir Alfie  was on his way to Bridgefield, Connecticut, I instantly thought of Hopsie. As fate would have it, Alfie was acquainted with the Pike family.  My mind did a quick checklist of all the reasons it knew Hopsie was a fool, and then I asked Alfie if I could pose as his niece on his displaced nobility grift. I brushed up on my British accent and colloquialisms and assumed the name Lady Eve Sidwich.  I know what you’re thinking, but rest assured it wasn’t love I was after (that would be Bette Davis).  No, I needed Hopsie like the axe needs the turkey, and I was going to have my revenge.

Looking back on it all it seems so biblical.  There I was in the Garden of Eden of all grifters: a Connecticut mansion filled with shiny apples ready to have their pockets plucked.  Hell, there was even a real snake on the loose—no, not me (but I see how you might infer that).  I arrived at the Pike mansion under cloak (really a huge fur), as I was still a bit unsure of my plan.  Once I got past Hopsie’s bodyguard and babysitter Muggsy (William Demarest), I entered the great hall as the guest of honor and proceeded to have every man hang on my every word.  Quite simply, and British, I looked smashing.  The first to succumb to my charms was Mr. Pike himself (Eugene Pallette)—the father, not the son (didn’t I say it was biblical?). At first, Hopsie was nowhere to be found (I suppose he was playing with his snake somewhere).  Ah, but then he appeared—and what a perplexed look he had on his face. Grift Tip No. 5: When you happen upon a previous mark ask them if you know them from somewhere. This confirms their belief they’ve crossed your path before. Plus, it looks like you don’t have anything to hide from them. 

You’d think it would be more difficult to convince a man with whom you canoodled that you weren’t the same woman who tried to con him on the high seas.  In a way, I was a bit peeved at how easily I pushed my real identity out of Hopsie’s mind. Of course, this feeling was quickly usurped by an overriding disbelief that I once loved a man who could be fooled by a royal title, a British accent, and a small tiara.  It didn’t take long before I had Hopsie back under my spell, but what did I want to do with him?  What better punishment was there for a bachelor than marriage?  And, so, yes, I did it: I married my mark. Ah, but I wasn’t quite done with that idiot just yet. Grift Tip No. 6: Sell the game to the bitter end and then have a well-designed escape route. 

We opted to spend our wedding night on a train. I donned my best sheer negligee and eagerly awaited the entrance of Hopsie into my cozy compartment.  He was nervous—it was obvious this was his first ride on a train. I tried to calm him down by recounting other train rides I’d taken. Surely if men like Angus, Herman, Vernon, Cecil, John, Hubert…or was it Herbert…could enjoy a train ride with me, so could Hopsie!  Perhaps he was afraid of tunnels—I always found entering and exiting them to be exhilarating.  It was all just so odd! You’d think a man who liked to play with snakes wouldn’t be so frightened of a speeding train.  It was like being in one of those Preston Sturges’ films, except there was no sex.  Maybe I shouldn’t have told him about those other guys, because he got off the train at the first stop.

And, so there I was—married and abandoned in a day by an heir to millions.  Somehow I just didn’t feel like I had exacted enough revenge on old Hopsie. Grift Tip No. 8: If you can have your cake and eat it too, eat the entire thing.  Why should I settle for a piece of the Pike pie when I could have the whole thing? Yes, I know I have mixed my food metaphors, but they are both desserts and that’s what I was going to have: my just desserts! So, when the lawyers called about divorce proceedings I ignored them.  Knowing Hopsie to be a creature of habit I returned to the high seas armed with my pocket mirror, my long, shapely legs, and my real name.  It wasn’t too long before Hopsie was escorting Jean Harrington…um, Pike…to her cabin.  Yes, he was a bit shocked when I revealed to him that Jean and Eve were one in the same—but this time I waited until he got used to the motion of the ocean.  Grift Tip No. 7: There is no greater con game than love. 

(This post was honored with a 2012 CiMBA for Best Musical or Comedy Review.  Obviously, this was a comedy.)