Carole Lombard and Jack Benny as Maria Tura and Joseph Tura in Ernst Lubitsch’s 1942 film To Be of Not to Be. (United Artists)
Between my late teens and early twenties, when at last the finite nature of time and the seemingly infinite number of “Best Of” lists pressed on my mind, I relied on the book John Kobal Presents the Top 100 Movies (1988) to find a way through the yet undiscovered terrain of great directors, most of them French and Italian, I never had the pleasure of sampling. The usual suspects were included: Orson Welles’s Citizen Kane still reigned at a number one rank, with Alfred Hitchcock’s oeuvre and Frederico Fellini peppered throughout.
Hanging out at No. 91 was Ernst Lubitsch’s 1943 film To Be or Not to Be, which, at the time, was not even available on VHS at any movie rental (remember those?) franchise known to humanity. By the time I got around to watching it I was so half-way fatigued by trekking through Kobal’s list that it seemed nothing more than a cute little comedy, despite the dead serious context of being set in Nazi-occupied Poland. That wisdom is wasted on the old is as true as saying that great works of art become greater in time. Today, even against the hard-won wisdom of my ragged years, I have no hesitation declaring To Be or Not to Be perhaps the greatest film of all time. That is not written for effect. I mean it, both in emphasis and a level of insistent aggression that, if you have not seen it, stop what you are doing and watch it forthwith.
Film buffs delight in naming “the best” of each genre. The best crime thriller: The Fugitive starring Harrison Ford (1993); he best romantic comedy: Rob Reiner’s When Harry Met Sally (1989); the best epic: Deavid Lean’s Lawrence of Arabia (1962); the best, most technically daring: Sergei Eisenstein’s The Battleship Potemkin (1925); the best Shakespeare adaptation: Akira Kurosawa’s Throne of Blood (1957).
The first—perhaps chief—virtue of To Be or Not to Be is that it not only encompasses so many of these genres, but embraces them with style and élan to spare. At 99 minutes it cannot qualify for epic status, but it is, shall we say, heroic in the breadth of dramatic flavors it covers in such short time.
To point out that it is set in one of the most somber, morbid eras of modern history dilutes its delightfully mercurial ingredients. To Be or Not to Be was cast, shot, and produced in 1941, as the full horrors of Nazi concentration camps were coming to light. And yet Lubitsch’s famous “touch” never once caves to overbearing politicization and never surrenders the arc of its imperative political message: humanity vs. cruelty and indifference. For that, Lubitsch relies mostly on Shakespeare, both in the film’s title, and through deft use Shylock’s most famous speech.
It is also a romantic comedy between husband and wife, Joseph and Maria Tura (played by Jack Benny and Carole Lombard). It is also a spy thriller, charting the plots of underground resistance by a band of Polish actors. It is a satire that dares mock fascism’s starkest cruelties, with jibes—from the mouths of actors playing committed Nazis, it must be said—about both der Führer as “a piece of cheese” and concentration camps. Finally, To Be or Not to Be is an uproarious comedy. Minutes after holding your breath in anticipation that a member of Polish acting troupe resisting Nazi advances may be tortured or murdered you find yourself laughing to tears at some of the greatest comedic scenes committed to film.
Boatloads of film critics and filmgoers at the time were not impressed, and accused Lubitsch of parading his bad taste at the expense of millions suffering amid World War Two. What they missed was Lubitsch’s tribute to a spirit of resistance that not only laughed in overwhelming darkness, but that took bold action against it at the same time. Lubitsch, writing to a U.S. newspaper that panned his film, was direct: “What I have satirized in this picture are the Nazis and their ridiculous ideology. I have also satirized the attitude of actors who always remain actors regardless of how dangerous the situation might be, which I believe is a true observation. … it is certainly a far cry from the Berlin-born director who finds fun in the bombing of Warsaw.”
With that reference to his own background as a German-born Jew and émigré to the United States, Lubitsch knew the risk of putting his name on such a film, and that he could answer his critics in full confidence. To Be or Not to Be offers us a set of magnificent actors playing the role of actors who love, laugh, and bolster their talents in the courage needed to defend their country and its freedoms. Lubitsch’s scrappy theater troupe transcend their acting trade for the most important production of their time, a concerted resistance to salvage civilization.
To be sure, partisans on both sides of our nation’s current political divide turn weary whenever accusations of Nazism are flung across what passes for public discourse. There is no denying that Nazis make excellent villains to be up against. But try, if you can while watching it, to translate the action and dialogue to other crucial acts of resistance throughout human history: the ancient Greeks’ Battle of Salamis against Persian aggression, Gandhi’s Salt March, the Spanish or U.S. civil wars, or our nation’s marches for Civil Rights.
The core of the film’s message could be said to land near the 40-minute mark, when a Polish professor turned Nazi spy attempts to recruit Lombard’s character, Maria Tura, for the Reich with the offer of material goods: “Life could be made very comfortable for you again, Mrs. Tura,” he tells her. Turning aside, her response is morbidly funny and deadly serious: “Naturally it’s all very attractive and tempting. But what are we going to do about my conscience?”
In an era in which the price of groceries and gas seemingly take precedence before long-held principles of government and issues of human decency, could any other exchange between characters in film be more pertinent?
Over its 99-minutes To Be or Not to Be shows us what that conscience might consist of: bravery and courage certainly, but also a heart confident enough to laugh and strong enough to love through the darkest hours.
