To Be or Not to Be

I knew who Ernst Lubitsch, Carole Lombard, and Jack Benny were before I saw TO BE OR NOT TO BE. I knew that Lubitsch was a German Jew who fled to Hollywood during the rise of Hitler. I knew that Carole Lombard was a screen queen of the Golden Age. I knew that Jack Benny had a popular television show and made a running gag of his stinginess. I didn't know that Lubitsch had the talent to actually pull off a screwball comedy about the Warsaw Occupation. I didn't know that Lombard, in addition to being staggeringly beautiful, had perfect comic timing. And I didn't know that Jack Benny mixed detachment and warmth that kept me laughing both at and with him.

As previously mentioned, TO BE OR NOT TO BE labors under the burden of being set in the Nazy occupation of Warsaw. At the time of the film's release (1942), this was serious business, yet the full scope of the horrors of the occupation had yet to come to light. From our current vantage point, it's hard to associate the Warsaw Occupation with anything other than those horrors, but it's worth it to try and adopt the mindset of an America at war. At that time, it was common to paint our enemies as buffoons, and we were more than happy to engage with a troup of plucky resisters. Once we do adopt that mindset, we're in for a great time at the movies. Lubitsch takes jealousy, vanity, bravery, and fear; and he mixes them into high comedy combined with dramatic tension and a bit of cheerleading for the Allies.

He couldn't do it without Lombard, who comes off as smart, funny, and the greatest wearer of white silk dresses in Western history. She's the pivot about which the enterprise turns, and there isn't a moment she's onscreen that we don't invest in her. Benny's a great counterpart, a little older, a little vainer, and very jealous of his wife (as well he should be, with young Polish Air Force officer Robert Stack sniffing about), and the two play off one another with the aplomb of old pros.

So, while I admit that TO BE OR NOT TO BE made me a little uncomfortable at times (Col. Earhardt as a buffoon? That monster?), it stands as an excellent comedy and deserves its status as a classic of the screwball genre.

And now I know who these people really are.

My Man Godfrey

The 1936 version of MY MAN GODFREY achieves its modest goals. It mixes comedy with social commentary in easily digestible portions, and it maintains a light, airy atmosphere that keeps things floating along.

Here's the setup: Godfrey Smith (William Powell) barely survives as a ragpicker at the city dump, but he has his dignity. When a group of socialites descend upon the dump looking for a "forgotten man" to use as a contest token, he stands on his dignity and refuses. In the proocess, he cathes the eye of the bitchiest socialite's sweet sister (Myrna Loy), who hires him to serve as the butler in her comically dysfunctional household.

MY MAN GODFREY uses the reliable tropes of bowing to simple wisdom and mocking the rich, and it succeeds largely to the pairing of Powell and Loy, who clearly enjoy such powerful onscreen chemistry that it's great fun to watch them play off of one another. While the film suffers from Loy's character seeming to dumb and her mother too shrill, it rocks along quite pleasantly for its entire running time.

I never laughed out loud, but I did smile throughout. MY MAN GODFREY certainly makes for a pleasant night at the movies.