Some final thoughts on Trouble in Paradise

Each time I re-watched Trouble in Paradise I enjoyed it more than I had the last time. I focused on different things for each viewing. Sometimes I’d go back and watch different scenes specifically. But the one thing I came away with was how sharp it turned out to be, how the film was cut to the most essential. I loved that Ernst Lubitsch treated the audience as an interactive member of the film, that the audience is intelligent enough to deduct details. I loved the dialogue and the fashion of Kay Francis. Herbert Marshall was charming and Miriam Hopkins was a delight in each scene she was in.

As I “studied” this genre, there are some things that stood out. First of all, setting and ambiance is important. Lubitsch established that immediately with the garbage man on the gondola. Thankfully he cut out a lot of the beginning from the screenplay and went straight to Gaston fleeing the scene of the crime and then up to his hotel room where the two lovebirds would soon meet.

This “cute meet” happens right away with both of them finding out soon enough that both are thieves and they have stolen from each other and of course, have fallen for each other in the process. Their dialogue, although slow paced at times, was filled with subtext and simply funny.

Much of the dialogue throughout the film is hilarious and this is another important factor in a screwball comedy. None is better than Gaston who while evading questions, which he does so wonderfully, ends up either confusing the other or changing the subject to his own advantage. I’ve highlighted some of my favorite lines and there have been plenty, from all the characters.

Gaston as the male protagonist shows a hero who is part of the “nouveau poor” but really a con artist and thief. Comedies during the Depression focused on protagonists who were poor and were smarter and outwitting the upper class. This tended to be true of a screwball comedy, and so the protagonist is an identifiable hero in the sense he’s poor and trying to “work his way up.” Although his idea of working his way is to be a “self-made crook.” Lily is also thief and poor and easier to identify with. For this reason as well it easier to determine that Lily and Gaston are meant to be together, rather than Gaston and Mme Colet. Lily is also the one to be a bit more zanier. She’s no idiot, and she knows how to work every scene, play her part. She’s a strong female who won’t be played for a fool and won’t sit back and let anyone walk all over her.

Again the subject of the poor vs the rich is another theme that is easy to poke fun at. The lives of the rich aren’t as attainable to everyone and so it’s fun to go and see how “hard” the rich really have it. And as it turns out they not only have it “bad” they’re also pretty clueless. Mme Colet is not smart. In fact this makes it easier to accept that Gaston chooses Lily over her because she’s clueless to what’s really going on under her nose. How could she be so trusting to a virtual stranger? Just because he’s charming? And after reading the screenplay it’s even more clear just how generous Mme Colet truly is. It is part of her nature, and for being so good-natured and gullible she gets played, and the thieves get away with it all. When you look at it that way, it’s clear why Trouble in Paradise never got shown again until after the Code was dropped in the 60s.

And speaking of rich and all those things. I can’t go on any more than I already do over Francis’ wardrobe. Poor Hopkins only got a few wardrobe changes but it was Francis who wowed with fabulous dresses.

Plot wise the film runs smooth. Two thieves meet fall in love, when things get rough they decide to try and go for a big loot. Complications ensue in the form of another desirable distraction. People start realizing who they could be and the gig is up. But yet the two lovebirds stick together and get away with it and each other. I enjoyed the setup of François being the robbery victim that paid off when he turned out to be a suitor of Mme Colet. But overall I found the plot to be uncomplicated which is important because you want to sit back and laugh and not be fussing with the intricacies of the plot.

The music was something else that added to the plot. There’s music throughout most of the film and apparently this was something relatively new for a talkie, to have most of the film with background music. Lubitsch used the right kind of music at all times which added to the comedic effect already going on during the scene.

Finally the supporting players. François has perhaps the best role out of all them. He tells the tonsils story and gives the greatest faces when he is absolutely mortified. There’s the major who is such a jerk to François that it’s hilarious. M Giron is always serious thinking he has the upper hand only to be outwitted by Gaston every time. And don’t call him Adolphe! Then there are two others who stand out, the waiter from the hotel in the opening scene and the butler from Mme Colet’s house. These two players have small roles but are absolutely acting to their fullest in their parts. They could just be going through the motions and delivering their lines, but they have extra nuances, from facial expressions to mumbling. They could be forgotten in the background, but they aren’t. Who forgets “and as for you waiter?” to which the waiter responds eagerly with a “yes, Baron?” only to be told by Gaston, “I don’t want to see you at all,” and the waiter, crestfallen, replies, “no, Baron.” In the DVD commentary, it’s noted that Lubitsch, having been an actor of bit parts in the past, liked to bring these actors forward and have then stand out. This, I thought, was a nice touch that made his pictures different. And different is always good.

When the film was released there hadn’t been any screwball comedies out really. It Happened One Night is considered by many to be the first screwball comedy, but to dismiss Trouble in Paradise is a mistake. This may be a precursor to the screwball comedy but it definitely has many of the right ingredients for the genre. It isn’t what many think of at the thought of screwball comedy but at the same time it needs to be said that the genre came into its own after the Code was enforced when scenes had to get more creative as well as the dialogue. And seeing past what I see as pacing problems and a could’ve-been-more-convincing performance of one aspect on Francis’ part, Trouble in Paradise is a wonderful film that still makes me laugh each time I see it. Not many films—especially nowadays—can produce that kind of reaction.

Screenplay vs Film

I’ve been reading the screenplay for Trouble in Paradise and it’s been really eye-opening to see how much got cut from the beginning of the script. Ernst Lubitsch literally cut the film to the most necessary, never explaining things to the viewer, leaving just enough so that they’d get it as the story unfolded. If I thought the film was any bit slow, the screenplay is even slower. The beginning alone takes forever to get to Gaston. It might also be that screenwriting was different back then to what it is now. There’s a lot more explaining of each shot instead of simply just writing cinematically, which may be a result of playwriting I suppose. Whichever the case, none of this takes away from the fact that the script is well written.

In one of the things I’ve read or seen it was stated how Lubitsch went completely by the script, very little deviations occurred. The same can be said here. All the dialogue is completely the same in the script as it is in the film. Again, the shots were explained so well that you could see them playing out before you. And for someone who stuck by the script so well, you wonder why he did cut out some scenes considering he collaborated with his screenwriters. Apparently because English wasn’t Lubtisch’s first language, he wanted an American writer who could tell him just the right dialogue to put in. So the script was pretty much set before the cameras started rolling. But again, the beginning needed to speed up. Too much time is spent on the canal with other gondoliers and then going up through the hotel’s different guest rooms and its occupants on the way to François’ room and then eventually to Gaston’s room. This cut was a wise move because instead you get right to the point, Gaston’s a thief and this is a story about him and Lily. The fact that the victim is François, who turns out to be one of Mme Colet’s suitors, is a great set-up that pays off later on.

Another line cut off from the script was during the hotel scene with Gaston and Lily the day after they stole Mme Colet’s handbag. In the film, upon realizing the anniversary of them meeting in Venice is coming up, they both fall into each other’s arms and they make plans of going back with Lily saying the rest of the room’s numbers as the scene fades into the following scene. In the script, the scene continues with Gaston saying, “And we’ll celebrate the second anniversary of the day we didn’t get married!” According to the DVD commentary, the decision to cut this line was due to the censors at the time not approving it. That line along with the Major’s line near the end of the film in which he states he’s not the marrying kind because he likes to take his fun and then leave it. Lubitsch decided to keep the latter but took out the former.

What I find a bit of a wonder, though, is why he chose to cut out two parts of scenes, both with Mme Colet. The scene that follows is Mme Colet receiving people at her home who claim to have found her handbag. Here Mme Colet is seen talking to an old lady who obviously doesn’t have her purse as it’s a very old tattered purse. The scene cuts straight to the foyer where there are about a couple dozen people waiting. This scene actually reminded me of Annie when Daddy Warbucks puts out an ad to find Annie’s parents and all these couples show up claiming to be her parents. But I digress. In the script, this bit continues with the lady telling Mme Colet how lovely the purse is and wouldn’t she like to buy it. Mme Colet feels sorry for her and agrees to do so. I believe it was in the commentary as well that notes that this part of the scene was written to show Mme Colet’s generosity, but Lubitsch decided cut it. Perhaps I’m one of the few who thinks that scene would’ve been good to leave in, simply because I had trouble with Kay Francis playing the role of Mme Colet as a generous woman, although in hindsight I do see she was written as such.

The other bit cut out from Mme Colet’s last scene in the film is after Gaston says goodbye and leaves. When the door closes, the phone rings. Mme Colet picks it up and it turns out to be another person asking if she’s still looking for her missing handbag. Sadly, she informs the caller the bag has already been found and when asked how long ago she says two weeks and three days. I actually like this bit, but perhaps it was cut because this scene had already turned too serious.

Reading the script helped me get a better grasp of Mme Colet, at the same time it helped me see how down to the last detail Lubitsch went by the script. Of course, it could very well be that the script was written after the film was made, but even still the fact that the cut parts of the scenes were included was beneficial in seeing the importance of editing. I think after reading this I see that for me personally another actress may have been better suited to play Mme Colet. I think I see Francis as too cold and snobbish to properly play a generous and flighty woman. And Miriam Hopkins is such an amazing actress that I wish there would’ve been more of Lily all around. Of course, the true star is Herbert Marshall as Gaston, and Marshall played him true to the script.

Kay Francis as Mme Colet

After a couple of viewings of Kay Francis’ performance as Mme Colet, I’m starting to see more clearly some of the problems I have with this character and performance. First of all, I think one of the issues is something I’ve mentioned before which is that I’m used to seeing Francis in roles in which she plays a spiteful wife/fiancée. I’m not used to seeing her in comedy, actually I don’t think I’ve ever seen her in a comedy. So with this preconception of Francis is that I go in watching Trouble in Paradise and so immediately I find problems. I don’t want to like her character because I assume she’s a villainess and that turns out to be completely wrong. Although, while Mme Colet isn’t a bad girl, she’s not too bright either. She is, as it turns out, too good of a girl.

Being a good girl is another problem I find. In the end, forasmuch as I do think Francis did a good job as Mme Colet, it’s not good enough. It’s not flighty enough for the good girl Mme Colet is. At moments I do see that air-headedness; her generosity is great and it’s bound to get her heart broken in the process. She is so carefree that she sets herself up to fall. But I think Francis’ acting turns too serious at times than what it’s called for. Pacing, as I’ve mentioned in the past, is a problem for me and it’s almost always in scenes that involve her. And in the end, I wasn’t sure that she was a good girl. When Gaston asks her what would she say if someone had stolen from her, she gets dead pan serious with those cool eyes of hers and says she wouldn’t say anything, she’d act immediately. And it’s a bit scary. But then she smiles and breaks that mood away. But, I don’t know if it’s my preconceived notions on her characters that kind of make me not believe it. Or maybe it’s just that the script strays off a bit at that moment.

As I was listening to the commentary the other day I realized how I misunderstood Mme Colet. If Gaston is torn between two desirable ladies then where did I miss the point that Mme Colet was also desirable? When Gaston says Mme Colet’s “whole sex appeal is in that safe.” I took the character for his word. But no, he falls for her. When he’s getting ready to leave, he’s torn about it. He’s preparing to leave her flowers, charged to Mme Colet of course. He knows how this will hurt her and I saw him as being a gentlemen alone, not that he actually had genuine feelings for her.

And so, Mme Colet is generous. How did I miss this? She doesn’t lower salaries during a recession. She’s willing to give away 20,000 Francs to whoever finds her lost purse. She raises Lily’s salary, even though it is so that she could get some alone time with Gaston. She’s also very trusting, which sets her up for her fall, and in my opinion makes it easy to not have as much sympathy for her. She trusts Gaston immediately, as charming as he is. They’ve only known each other two weeks and three days near the end of the charade, and yet he’s taken over her life pretty much and she’s completely fallen for him. On top of being trusting and generous, she’s beautiful and rich and single. So why wouldn’t Gaston fall for her? Of course he does. But my problem here is that Francis didn’t sell it as well as she could have. Perhaps I need more grandiose acts of generosity to prove a point.

Even though, I do think she was cast well in the sense that she usually does play characters with affluent backgrounds, and she pulls it off beautifully. And her wardrobe? To die for. I forget how many costume changes she has throughout the movie, but I loved almost every single one of her outfits. And I say almost because the golfing outfit wasn’t for me, although I kind of liked the hat. I digress. I sometimes wonder if there had been someone else cast in the role, if it would have been any different. At the same time, as I have a better understanding of the character and the film, Francis doesn’t bother me as much. In fact in the most recent viewing, having her lisp being pointed out, I caught on to every single one of those instances that I hadn’t at first viewing. And that, kind of made me chuckle.

Viewing with commentary

Got a chance to watch Trouble in Paradise with the Criterion DVD commentary by Ernst Lubistch biographer, Scott Eyman, and it turned out to be quite insightful. Many of the trivia bits I’ve found across the Internet probably came from this commentary. Also, it brought more insight into the Lubitsch touch and what made it unique amongst the other films out in its day.

Something that stood out came toward the end of the commentary, in which Eyman notes how this movie was a precursor to the screwball comedy and Lubitsch’s style might not be recognized as what the genre turned out to be. In fact, he notes some might consider it dull and passé. Well, I wouldn’t call it either of those adjectives, but it was a good point considering some of the questions I’ve been pondering on for the past couple of weeks.

The film started out as a play and one of the writers Lubitsch brought on to adapt it for the screen was Samson Raphaelson, another playwright who worked in Hollywood for many years but his main focus was playwriting. This mention of Trouble in Paradise being a stage play reminded me how early film was quite like an extension of the stage play. The way films were in the early ages of cinema is a lot like a play in the sense that there tended to be more dialogue in early films. Perhaps why this film is so funny is precisely because the dialogue is sharp and witty. Never are things mentioned flat out. Subtext is key here. Things like “her whole sex appeal is in that safe” turn upside down what is really meant, which is “I only care about her money.”

A perfectly good point made in the commentary is how the characters never say what they mean. Eyman points out that never do you hear, “I want you, I like you” between Mme Colet and Gaston, just as you never hear Gaston or M. Giron say to each other, “I distrust you, I want to destroy you.” It doesn’t need to be said because it’s perfectly implied through their actions. Dialogue is key to the screwball comedy, yet it’s not about saying just any silly joke. It’s all in what you say, how much you say, how much you reveal. The viewer can then interact without being constantly told what is going on.

Another thing pointed out in the commentary was how Gaston is put in the difficult situation of being caught between two desirable females, which was not typical of the time. Usually, and this is still true today, if a lead character is caught between two lovers one of them has to be unlikable, that way the job of choosing is easier. But here, that’s not the case. This was a concern of mine when re-watching the ending of the film. I think part of the problem for me is that I didn’t want to like Mme Colet and this probably comes from watching Kay Francis in roles in which she plays the insufferable wife or fiancée who won’t let her man be happy with his true love. I don’t want to like Mme Colet, but she doesn’t do anything bad. Her only sin is being rich and careless about it. This for me, though, makes it easy to not like her, because she’s an idiot to be so generous and trusting. But Gaston sees that with her he could be rich and happy, and just as well he could take her money and run off with Lily and be rich and happy with her. So it presents a conundrum, of which he ultimately decides to leave Mme Colet to be with the one who truly understands him like only another thief could.

I think perhaps what I got most out of when listening to the commentary is how much style Lubitsch had. He had an attention to detail and used film to his advantage. The way he cuts scenes and what he chooses to focus on, shows how he used the medium to its utmost advantage. One of the scenes pointed out is the focus on the gondola ashtray, which is also another scene of showing and not telling. Another scene is Mme Colet in Gaston’s arm near the end of the film, from the reflection in the mirror to their silhouette on the bed. I think all these things pointed out helped in understanding Lubitsch’s choice of pace that had been bothering me since I first watched it. This is simply his style of things. And it’s also made me wonder how a bold and adventurous filmmake would have fared in today’s era of filmmaking. What kind of films would Lubitsch have made today? How far would he have pushed the envelope? How would he be embracing 3D and digital technology?

Trouble in Venice

I took some time to sit down and go over Trouble in Paradise again. I only got so far as the opening scene, but here are some thoughts.

I think part of the why Trouble in Paradise doesn’t seem like the typical screwball comedy to me at first is because of its slower pace. I expect and even want the dialogue to be as quick as Hildy and Walter’s exchanges in His Girl Friday, but it’s more even paced instead. This might be because the screwball comedy was still in its early stages. The Hays code is what really forced the genre to evolve into what we know it to be. And so, the dialogue seems quieter, the film not so much screwbally, characters aren’t that eccentric. But I digress.

In an article from the New York Observer that Peter Bogdanovich wrote, I read how Ernst Lubitsch didn’t want to open the scene with a typical view of Venice. He wasn’t going to go forward until he found the right opening. He ended up with the Italian man collecting trash and putting it on the gondola and moving on while singing passionately at the top of his voice. This opening put me off the very first time I watched it. In hindsight I see its importance in setting the mood since what proceeds is a view from a hotel room with an unconscious man on the floor and in the shadows another man fleeing from the balcony. If you were to begin the film with typical night scenes of Venice and then the hotel room, you might think the film to be thriller. I don’t believe you would know it’s a comedy unless you had read a brief synopsis. So Lubitsch is setting the mood here, this is a comedy and you’re going to have to deal with trash. Because, it’s kind of trashy, people so obsessed with getting money or simply wasting money away. In fact, it’s down right comical, which is what the film ends up showing.

There’s a hint from the beginning about Gaston not really being a Baron. There’s a leaf on his jacket which the waiter finds. How did it get there? What could he have been doing to end up with a leaf on himself? And why didn’t he even notice it? Wouldn’t he have brushed away any lingering lints by this point? Or, the question I wondered upon first viewing, was he the one in the shadows in the balcony of the hotel room?

Herbert Marshall is completely charming and I can never get over that when I see him in this performance. He delivers his lines in both charming and laughable ways. You know he’s full of it, but you can’t help but smile every time.

Now, Miriam Hopkins is hilarious as Lily. Especially in this scene as she overacts. She’s so good at performing badly if that makes any sense. She has a great sense of comedic timing, which is most true when she flashes one of her faces.

The phone call with Lily’s roommate always bothers me because it kind of depresses me. It brings me down to reality and to be honest I wish it had been done differently. Sure, at this point we realize Lily’s not the Countess, but it just looks so drab and real and all I could think of was how depressing Lily’s real life really is. The roommate is depressing and in a screwball comedy there should be no depression! That’s why we’re there watching!

There are the Italians. Now, I don’t know any Italian, but I can understand some words. And I wondered, and I always wonder this every time I see it, whether or not they really are speaking Italian. I think I ask myself this because here we do see that fast-talking that I’ve come to associate with the genre and it just seems so comical that I wonder if it really is the real thing.

Finally, as Lily and Gaston are beginning to uncover the truth of who the other really is, Gaston stands up from the table and goes over to the door and locks them both in. We know Lily has taken the wallet and the accompanying music sounds a bit menacing. The tension builds as Gaston approaches Lily and then he forces her to stand and shakes her silly until the wallet falls to the ground. He proceeds to pick it up and puts it away in his jacket, and the two continue with their dinner. At this point, if you didn’t know what kind of film this would be, surely you should know by now. And a thriller it is not.

Some of the lines I like in this scene, “I want to see that moon in the champagne. … and as for you waiter … I don’t want to see you at all,” and also, “Baron, I shouldn’t have come,” which neither sound nearly as funny now that I’ve written them down, but really it’s the delivery of them from Marshall and Hopkins that make them funny.

I think the most important thing to take away from this scene when considering the screwball comedy is not just the dialogue but the setting of tone. I appreciate that Lubitsch didn’t want to go on without setting the right mood. He didn’t want to trick you into thinking this was a romantic thriller of sorts. This scene is about the ridiculousness of two thieves stealing from each other and falling in love in the process. And if you really think about it, that’s pretty screwball.

Trouble in Paradise (1932)

The last time I watched Trouble in Paradise was about a year ago. Before that I had seen it for the first time a few summers back when I went on a screwball comedy binge, trying to watch as many screwball comedies as I could.

My first reaction, still early on in the movie, was, “When was this made?!” as soon as I saw the “Do Not Disturb” sign placed in front of the hotel room door. It happens every time I watch a pre-Code film, where little things seem a bit risqué until finally it can’t be denied anymore and you wonder how it could’ve been filmed.

Part of what’s so great about Trouble in Paradise is the dialogue. There’s subtext to the extreme that’ll make you giggle. Between Gaston’s “You tickled me,” line to Mme Colet’s “What could’ve been” goodbye, there’s much in between the lines. It’s a film that captivates your attention.

At times I wished it would’ve quickened its pace, and I remember this being one thing that bothered me on first viewing. Kay Francis, while quite effective as Mme Colet, often delivers her lines just a tiny bit too slow for my taste. In a screwball comedy, things happen quickly. This is why the scenes in which Gaston is running up and down the stairs are so much fun, as well as the scenes of “Yes, Mme. No, Mme,” and “Yes, Monsieur. No, Monsieur,” that are side-wiped one behind the other.

And then there’s Miriam Hopkins who completely steals the scene away from Francis in which Mme Colet is in bed having breakfast and summons Lily to her room. Hopkins’ facial expressions are completely comical. All three leads are great in their roles. Herbert Marshall is delightful as the con man who “went into the bank of Constantinople and walked out with the bank of Constantinople.” He charms Francis’ Mme Colet with a delivery of dialogue that comes off quite melodious. The audience may find him irresistible too.

Watching it again, the film still made me chuckle, and it’s refreshing that an 80-year-old movie still has the capability to do that. It stands the test of time. It’s smart and funny. It’s got the Lubitsch Touch.