Until recently, Lubitsch was rarely mentioned as one of the great Hollywood auteurs. Maybe it was because his bailiwick was comedy. Maybe it was because of his self-effacing mien. Even now, when no one would contest his place in the Hollywood pantheon, he’s rarely discussed as a reflective artist capable of making “meta-comedies,” like Victor Fleming’s Bombshell or Preston Sturges’s Sullivan’s Travels. No one disputes how innovative and influential his work was, yet there’s still a general feeling that it was all a matter of natural cheerful genius, the same sort of notion that misinformed attitudes about Mozart. Ninotchka alone should put a stop to that. It’s every bit as much a comedy about comedy as Sturges’s classic. In fact, I think in some ways it is the origin of the idea in Sullivan’s Travels. The humor of Ninotchka is so ambitious, capacious, and carefully designed that it constitutes a sort of cinematic essay on comedy. And smack dab at the center of the film the Comic Spirit manifests itself to let us know what it’s all about — in Garbo’s laugh, but not only that; it’s in the entire scene including the lunching workmen, Leon’s jokes, and the fate of Leon’s backside.
You may recall the recurring gag in Sullivan’s Travels as The Girl (Veronica Lake) keeps at Sully to introduce her to Lubitsch, and he keeps playing coy about his connection to him. When she first asks Sully to give a letter of introduction to Lubitsch, more as a challenge than a bona fide request, he answers “I might be able to do that. Who’s Lubitsch?” As the story unfolds and it becomes clear that Sully isn’t a bum and actually probably could arrange an introduction, the motif is established: Lubitsch is invoked as the Alpha Hollywood Comic Director, but the connection to him is never actually made. For a long time I didn’t know what to make of that motif, since none of the films that Sully (or Sturges) made or planned to make bore the slightest resemblance (to my mind) to Lubitsch’s style. But then a penny dropped.
The “Garbo laughs” restaurant scene in Ninotchka is very rich. Garbo plays Nina, the grumpy churl who doesn’t find anything funny, least of all Melvyn Douglas’s Leon’s jokes. Leon’s lame attempts to control humor fall flat until, that is, he falls flat. His male and aristocratic dignity suffers sorely, until he joins all the others in laughter, able to laugh at himself.
It’s a delicate slapstick progression in Lubitsch. The same progression can be found in the famous climactic scene of Sullivan’s Travels, as the chain gang, their guards, and the African American congregation watch a Pluto cartoon together.
‘Nuff said.