The Smiling Lieutenant. 1931. Directed by Ernst Lubitsch.

(6/22/00)

This was another film I saw at a disadvantage. In this case it was an English-language film with Danish subtitles. That wasn't so much a problem by itself, but there were shots of written material in the film--a bill, newspaper headlines, letters--and these were translated into Danish.

It's a Viennese operetta with next to no songs. Maurice Chevalier sings a song about life in the army at the beginning and end of the film. He is in his pajamas and looks completely ridiculous. Throughout the rest of the picture he is his usual beguiling self.

The smiling lieutenant wins the heart of a pretty violinist. While appearing with other officers as the King and Princess of Flausenthum drive by he smiles and winks at his beloved. The princess thinks he has winked at her and wants him reprimanded for the insult.

The lieutenant is called on the carpet. He cannot tell the truth because to the military his behavior is inexcusable. He attempts to flatter the princess, telling her how beautiful and enchanting she is and that he forgot himself. The next thing he knows he is engaged to her. And it is fun seeing this smooth operator hoisted on his own petard.

Lubitsch has aimed his barbs squarely at pretension and pettiness. The whole business of the insult is much ado about nothing. The Flausenthum royalty seems to be just looking for things to take offense at.

And Chevalier is roped into a marriage with Miriam Hopkins as the princess. But he has no intention of consummating it. My heart went out to the princess because even with all her faults she did not knowingly force this man into marriage against his will. She doesn't deserve to be humiliated. And I like the father, too, who comes into the bedroom to comfort his daughter with a game of checkers.

Chevalier comes off as mean-spirited in tjhese scenes. His crankiness is understandable if not completely justified. He doesn't like the sausage (?) offered to him at breakfast the next morning and is really unpleasant about it.

But his mood changes when his beloved Franzi shows up. He appears to have an affair with her and his whole disposition changes as he enjoys "stepping out," looking even more dashing than usual in a straw hat. But the princess is no fool and figures out what is going on. She has Franzi brought to her.

The finale is surprising and frankly disturbing. Perhaps Lubitsch hits a little too close to home here. Franzi and the princess take to each other and Franzi shows her how to remake herself so as to capture her husband's interest. The violinist gives up the man she loved who is delighted to be married to the princess now that she has adopted a sexy new style.

It is a very un-romantic ending, to say the least. "Love" seems to be nothing more than a response to wearing the right kind of underwear and playing the right kind of music on the piano. And smoking cigarettes. Love is just a response to external factors. This is kind of similar to Ross Jeffries' claims ("There's no such thing as love--love is merely a state which can be installed.") At any rate, it is strange and provocative to see an ending like this in a Hollywood movie of 1931.

I was very much impressed with the elegant decor. It is certainly a stylish-looking film..