The distinction between good satire and revolutionary satire is extremely narrow, and can’t always be predicted at the time, since artists can rarely predict how relevant their work will be in later years, and the extent to which future generations may engage with their ideas. However, the best satires are those that take a bold idea, and turn it into something that is almost too bold and audacious to ignore. This is exactly the case with To Be or Not to Be, in which the legendary Ernst Lubitsch works with Edwin Justus Mayer to create a film that is possibly the greatest work of cinematic satire ever produced, perhaps only overtaken by Charles Chaplin’s The Great Dictator a few years before. It’s not surprising that these two works share common ground in terms of the subject matter, both looking at the rise of Adolf Hitler and his treacherous Nazi ideologies, and the role of ordinary folk in usurping his power through playing roles, which often put them in a precarious position. Based on a story by Melchior Lengyel, the film is an achievement like no other, and one of the most extraordinarily inventive works of its time. A simple but unique premise, a brilliant ensemble, a strong script and a director with an assured vision at the helm are all the key components in the development of this film, which is a subversive, provocative and entirely brilliant work of unhinged artistry, a series of hilarious and irreverent moments carefully curated by a director who continues to be celebrated as an icon of the Golden Age of Hollywood, and whose work here is simply beyond astonishing. A masterpiece of social commentary, dark comedy and ambitious satire, To Be or Not to Be is a vital and brilliant film that finds a way to address serious topics with wit and charm aplenty.

Lubitsch was an artist of ambitious ideas and simple execution, which is primarily the reason why he is so fondly remembered to this day, and quite possibly the most influential voice in the history of comedic cinema, someone who has inspired generations of writers and directors to take on the boldest ideas. There is a reason why some of the greatest filmmakers of all time, such as Billy Wilder and Mel Brooks (both of whom helped perfect the art of cinematic comedy) consider him to be their guiding influence, and someone who has inspired them in their own individual careers, Wilder even attributing his entire body of work to Lubitsch, under whom he served as a protege early in his career. His ability to take the boldest ideas and make them into the most effectively charming and entertaining works is the primary reason he continues to be so celebrated as a filmmaker. There is certainly an argument to be made that To Be or Not to Be is his finest film – it is certainly amongst his most audacious efforts, and his ability to weave a coherent story together (narratively and visually) while still infusing every frame with depth and humour, is a credit to his undeniable skillfulness in all facets of filmmaking. Not too many directors have been able to transition as seamlessly between the silent and sound eras, but witnessing the images he produces, and the rapid-fire dialogue that often accompanies it, is astonishing. A great satirist is one that starts out as a good storyteller – what is satire other than a carefully-constructed story that exposes institutional flaws through a comedic lens, and structures the entire narrative around heightening these concepts to the point of it being almost grotesque? Lubitsch mastered this kind of storytelling, and To Be or Not to Be proves his insatiable mettle as a formidable artistic voice.

When it comes to looking at the impact of satire, we have to consider how effectively a work can age as a result of shifting social and cultural contexts. We can take such films and their perspective for granted when looking at them from a contemporary perspective, and sometimes we don’t realize quite how radical they were at the time. To Be or Not to Be is a film with a razor-sharp precision and a worldview that was so rebellious, it was a partial critical and commercial failure at the time of its release – it is well-documented that audiences in the early 1940s were not particularly enamoured with a farce that made light of the terrifying spread of Nazism, especially one in which these monstrous individuals were viewed as eccentric idiots – and for it to come from someone who fled Germany years before, it could have felt even more bizarre . Yet, rather than softening the blow with valiant heroism and misplaced sentimentality, Lubitsch pushed forward with his ideas, and produced something truly revolutionary, so much that it took a few generations for it to fully be considered a true masterpiece. We cannot underestimate the sheer gall it took to make a film about Adolf Hitler right at the height of his reign of terror, standing toe-to-toe with one of the most oppressive and inhumane political systems, and making an absolute mockery out of it. This desire to not only directly address these issues, but also do so in a way that is done through the guise of entertainment rather than purely to inform audiences of the realities facing the citizens of Europe, made for a profoundly captivating experience. The impetus behind this specific story isn’t clear – it is one of the earliest works of slight historical revisionism, and it exaggerates a lot of facts for the sake of humour. However, this is logical when considering the broader intentions of the film, and is easily explained when we look at how To Be or Not to Be is composed of a series of moving parts, each one coming together effectively to tell this hilariously irreverent story of rebellion. Sometimes, the best satire is the kind done not only to lampoon reality, but actively rebel against it, so the impact of this film being made during the apex of Nazism is not something that should be disregarded as a trivial fact, but rather one of its more admirable merits.

However, there is more to satire than just the concept – there needs to be some degree of consistency in how its bold ideas are executed. Good writing is not enough to effectively convey a wide range of ideas, since without good characterization, it can barely make an impact, especially in terms of film. It is almost expected of a Lubitsch film to have incredible performances, with the director having worked with an exceptionally broad group of actors throughout his career, giving many of them some of their very best work. To Be or Not to Be has a terrific cast, with Jack Benny and Carole Lombard being incredible protagonists. Interestingly, the decision to cast two very funny actors from extremely different comedic backgrounds was the best possible choice for the film, since they bring varying sensibilities around what evokes a laugh, but still find ways to work together to emphasize the other’s skills – it an idea that does work in practice more than it does in theory. Benny was plucked from vaudeville, where physicality and broad humour were integral, while Lombard was a disciple of the brilliant Pre-Code screwball comedies, in which wordplay and sophisticated wit were most important. Their chemistry is incredible, and their gifts merge in the process of working under Lubitsch’s guidance, the director making sure to highlight the distinct gifts of his actors. It was one of Benny’s signature roles (and much like Lubitsch, comedy owes an enormous debt to the groundbreaking work he did), and was sadly the last in Lombard’s promising but tragically short career – and they both command the screen, bringing a blend of elegance and off-the-wall madness to the film that few actors have been able to achieve since. Watching these masters of their craft in their element is wonderful, and the collaboration between a visionary director and exceptionally gifted actors (both in terms of the two leads, and the range of memorable supporting players) makes this an even more euphoric experience.

The collision of bold ideas and hilarious comedy come together to form a comedy that is as well-crafted as it is deceptively subversive, a darkly comical odyssey into the lives of ordinary people who utilize their skills as actors to survive. Some may think that shaping this story as a comedy was done for the sake of convenience – but as we’ve seen countless times before, the adage of “dying is easy, comedy is hard” has never been more appropriate than here under Lubitsch’s assured and masterful direction. Humour is far from easy to produce, especially on the scale at which Lubitsch and Mayer were working here. There are only a few films in existence that can attest to having as high a volume of jokes as this, and even fewer that can say with full confidence that every one of them lands beautifully. Humour is not as easy as it may seem, and when dealing with something as gravely serious as the rise of Adolf Hitler and the impact his ideologies had on Europe during the Second World War, it’s an enough bigger challenge – and who else could have possibly pulled this off other than Lubitsch, arguably the greatest comedy writer of the 20th century? The key to the success of his work, in particular here in To Be or Not to Be, is that he knows where to place the laughs, often placing them concurrently (rather than in direct opposition) to the more serious moments – the revelation of the Invasion of Poland, which is the crucial turning point of the narrative and the over-arching catalyst for the events of the story – is delivered with strict sobriety, with the humour being reserved for the reactions that were to follow. No one involved in the film intends to make light of the situation, instead choosing to approach the material in a way that hints towards a deeper understanding of the right places onto which to assert its darkly comical humour. It’s a fragile process, and could have so easily have been heavy-handed at one extreme, and inappropriately flippant on the other – so the final result being simultaneously brilliantly sophisticated and wildly funny is just further credit to its unconventional brilliance.

Without any sense of hyperbole, To Be or Not to Be is just about as perfect a film as it could possibly be. There are not many films that can be considered pure masterpieces, not only in how effective they are as cinematic works, but as pieces of historically-resonant art, and To Be or Not to Be manages to achieve this so consistently. There is a tendency to act like a comedy cannot effectively address very important issues, and that it will always be done just to make light of the matters – some even go so far as to suggest that comedy is just a shorthand for works that should not be taken all that seriously, designed exclusively to just offer entertainment and very little else. Obviously, these perspectives ignore the immeasurable, boundless contributions to the medium made by people like Lubitsch, who may have made more dramatic works on occasion, but was always at his best when working in comedy, where his skills as both a director and writer were utilized as far as possible. Few films have been able to evoke as much genuine laughter as To Be or Not to Be, which is the perfect blend of outrageous humour and fascinating, historically-resonant social commentary – and it is made even more impressive by how it was dealing with contemporary issues. There’s a perverse level of pleasure that comes from realizing that the very people being satirized here had the opportunity to see this film, so imagining the horror that would ensue when realizing how far Lubitsch and his cohorts were willing to go to portray the malignant Nazi regime as a bunch of incompetent cretins is even more entertaining. As a whole, it’s a film that has aged exceptionally well, possessing an abundance of humour and elegance, enough to propel this to the very peak of brilliant comedies, and a film of impeccable, unimpeachable importance, and one that continues to be invigorating and awe-inspiring in both form and content, even by the most modern standards.