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.
No comments:
Post a Comment