Ninotchka

NINOTCHKA demands that the viewer fall in love with Greta Garbo. I did not, and the film never rose above the level of amusing diversion because of it.

Here's the setup: Ninotchka's a mid-level Soviet apparatchik sent to Paris to complete the sale of a set of royal jewels. But hey, it's Paris. Who can't fall in love in, and with, Paris? Will Ninotchka loosen up and live a little? Will she accomplish her mission? Will capitalism defeat the tyranny of communism? Aw, hell - you know the answers to all those questions, so the only real question is whether you want to go along for the ride.

Problem is, Ninotchka is distant, brittle, and unwise. While watching her adventure, we get the sense that the actress playing her is smarter than she is, is perhaps smarter than us, and is merely shovelling it out for mass consumption. There is no spell, there is no magic, and there's barely even Paris.

What a drag.