To Be or Not to Be (1942) Review

Ernst Lubitsch made films that winked at you. Sophisticated spectacles, his comedies didn’t shout their jokes, but smuggled them in like contraband, hidden in innuendo, implication and the art of the well-timed pause. In 1942, with ‘To Be or Not to Be’, Lubitsch made perhaps his boldest gesture yet: a screwball comedy about Nazis, treason and theatre, with Jack Benny and Carole Lombard at the helm and death waiting in the wings.

A cracking comic-caper, it follows a troupe of Polish actors who find themselves performing the roles of their lives- not on stage, but in Nazi-occupied Warsaw. When a young pilot is caught up in a spy plot, the troupe leaps into action, donning disguises, bluffing Gestapo officers and improvising as if their lives (and country) depend on it. At the centre is Benny’s Joseph Tura, the pompous Hamlet-in-residence, and Lombard, as his wife Maria, luminous and quick-witted in what was sadly her final screen role.

The film effortlessly juggles tones. One moment it’s pure farce- theatrical egos, slippery identities and a Hamlet with more flair than sense- and the next, it glances at real peril with a surprisingly steady gaze. Beneath the laughs, there’s a pointed satire about authoritarianism, vanity and the roles people play to survive. The dialogue crackles with razor-sharp wit, every line balanced like a dagger on the edge of a laugh. Whether it’s Benny’s oblivious grandiosity or Lombard’s wry deflections, Lubitsch keeps the script dancing- light on its feet, but never light on substance.

That Lubitsch made this film at the height of the Second World War is nothing short of astonishing. While Hollywood largely played it safe, he aimed straight for the absurd heart of fascism, daring to laugh. But this isn’t mockery for its own sake- Lubitsch understood that ridicule, when wielded with precision, can be a subversive weapon. His satire is never cruel, but it is fearless: mocking vanity, the ridiculousness of the Nazi ideology, exposing cowardice; reminding us that even in the darkest times, a well-delivered line- or a perfectly timed pause- can carry a kind of truth that outlasts bombs and bluster.

Visually, the film is no slouch either. The production design conjures a grand theatrical world, full of velvet curtains, dressing rooms and shadowy corridors. Rudolph Maté’s cinematography adds a crisp elegance, framing scenes with the same precision Lubitsch brings to the dialogue. It’s handsome without being showy, stylish without upstaging the script; perfectly suited to the unfolding farce.

The cast is uniformly excellent, but it’s Benny and Lombard who give the film its centre of gravity- or, rather, its comic orbit. Benny, one of the all-time comedic greats, leans gleefully into Joseph Tura’s preening vanity, delivering a performance that’s both absurd and oddly endearing. He plays a man desperate to be taken seriously, even as the world refuses to play along- a joke that never stops landing.

Lombard, by contrast, is all grace and mischief. Her Maria is a master of timing, charm and quiet control. She brings a knowing sparkle to every scene she’s in. Sadly, Lombard would die before the film finished post-production- in this way it acts as a sterling swansong for a cinematic legend. Around them, the supporting players- from Sig Ruman’s delightfully blustering colonel to Robert Stack’s earnest pilot- flesh out a world where everyone, it seems, is playing to the gallery, even when the stakes are deadly.

Ernst Lubitsch’s ‘To Be or Not to Be’ is a marvel- a film daring to be funny when all signs point to despair. It’s sharp, silly and strangely stirring, a comedy that looks evil in the face and responds with a raised eyebrow and a perfectly arched punchline. In a world too often content to play it safe, Lubitsch reminds us that the boldest laughs are the ones that speak the hardest truths. Strongly acted and beautifully shot, ‘To Be or Not to Be’ ultimately proves that in the face of tyranny, the best answer is always to be- to laugh, to fight and to defy.