Trouble in Paradise

It didn't attract much attention when it was first released in 1932, and for years access to the film was limited (it has only recently been released on DVD), but somehow, Trouble in Paradise has endured as a classic. It was director Ernst Lubitsch's personal favorite, and numerous critics and fans also count it among the best films of the era. The sophisticated plot, deliciously clever dialogue and art deco sets complement a trio of actors (Kay Francis, Miriam Hopkins and Herbert Marshall) in some of the best performances of their careers.

The plot revolves around a love triangle. Lily (Hopkins) and Gaston (Marshall) are thieves and lovers who see dollar signs when they meet perfume company executive Madame Colet (Francis). They take jobs in her house with the intention of robbing her safe and making a fast getaway. These plans are complicated when Gaston finds he is falling in love with his employer.

One of the most fascinating elements of the film is that while Gaston is smitten with Madame Colet, he still has feelings for Lily. The women have a complementary effect on him. With Colet he is subdued and elegant; he rarely raises his voice over a seductive purr. With Lily, Gaston is much more animated; he is practically screwball in her vibrant presence. It is almost as if Gaston needs both of them in order to be complete.

In their roles as opposite points of the love triangle, Francis and Hopkins thrived under Lubitsch's guidance. The director was specific in his instructions; he would often act out a scene to show exactly what he wanted. Sometimes he would even wear women's clothing so that he could get the body language right.

Hopkins was Lubitsch's favorite actress and he is one of the few directors (William Wyler is another) who managed to harness her tendency to chew scenery. Though Hopkins was notorious for being temperamental and difficult on the set, Lubitsch not only directed her well, but also seemed to enjoy the manic energy that arose out of her explosive personality. She had previously starred for him in The Smiling Lieutenant (1931) and would also appear in his adaptation of the stage play Design For Living (1933).

Francis was most famous for being a clotheshorse and having difficulty pronouncing her r's. She wasn't a profoundly talented actress, but she took direction well and Lubitsch burnished her sleek image to the best advantage. While most scriptwriters would avoid giving Francis lines with r's, Lubitsch insisted that she read his lines as written, and the effect is charming. When she sadly laments that a "tewible policemen" will show up on her doorstep, her elegant image is suffused with poignancy and her speech impediment comes off more endearing than comical. She would never be quite as magical in the roles that followed, though she was one of the most popular actresses of the thirties.

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