Few filmmakers can lay claim to having a career even marginally as successful as Ernst Lubitsch, whose work as a writer and director quite literally changed the way the film industry viewed comedy. Choosing his masterpiece is a challenging endeavour since there are a number of terrific films that he helmed during his peak, which stretched from the silent era right to the heart of the Golden Age of Hollywood, his presence being an integral reason behind the many wonderful directions in which the industry developed. The general consensus is that one of his greatest achievements is Trouble in Paradise, his European-set caper focusing on the efforts of a pair of lovable petty criminals who team up to fleece an oblivious dowager of her fortune, not realising that she is a few steps ahead of them and is more than willing to exercise who own cunning stunts, the victim suddenly becoming the culprit in one of the most gloriously entertaining comedies of the era. Handcrafted by someone whose mastery of the genre eventually became one of its defining features, Trouble in Paradise is one of his quintessential masterpieces, a simply-made, witty romp through the past that is as enjoyable as it is genuinely insightful, being a rollicking, wickedly entertaining comedy with an equal amount of heart and humour, the two existing in tandem as they usually did in the director’s work. Considered his first major success after he transitioned into the sound era, and usually coupled with The Merry Widow and Easy Living as an unofficial trilogy of magnificent, compelling period comedies that are as engaging as they are uniquely imprinted on the culture, few films have managed to age this well, every moment of this film seemingly ageing better than just about any other similarly-themed comedy. Lubitsch was an absolute genius of the medium, and while it may not be the most inventive film in his repertoire, Trouble in Paradise remains one of his most cherished works for several different reasons that only take a few moments of our time to comprehend in their entirety.

Lubitsch was a filmmaker whose vision was cast over a wide breadth of stories, and he never quite could settle on a particular niche in terms of the subjects that fascinated him, despite the very strong authorial voice that prevented him from ever being categorized as a journeyman director. This quality was divisive at the time but has proven to be very progressive from a contemporary standpoint, particularly when it comes to the oft-discussed concept of auteur theory and the role a director’s perspective plays in shaping their own. One common quality we can find in most of his work is a genuine affection for people of all backgrounds, with a special focus being given to those who exist on the unspoken hierarchical social ladder, whether it be in terms of financial worth or status within a particular community. His inspiration behind Trouble in Paradise was a relatively obscure play by the title of The Honest Finder, written by Hungarian playwright László Aladár, which served as the foundation for this film, although only in terms of contributing the skeleton of the plot and the general thematic framework from which the director is working. Lubitsch adds many of his elements, and turns a charming play into one of the most engaging and insightful social satires ever committed to film, all through the simplicity that comes with the primary plot and how the director expands on a few tremendous ideas. The film takes the form of an upbeat comedy-of-manners set within the high society, which immediately gives it a conceptual foundation and a structure onto which the narrative can fall in moments where the comedy may not be entirely consistent with the underlying message. Lubitsch had a clear fondness for this kind of outrageously funny, off-the-wall satires that looked at fascinating concepts in a manner that was simple, concise and meaningful, and Trouble in Paradise is one of the clearest examples of this principle in practice.

Satire takes various forms, and assessing them all by a singular metric is rarely going to yield positive results. Lubitsch was unquestionably one of the great satirists of his era, but both his stories and the approach he took to telling them looked decidedly different from those of both his peers and successors. Trouble in Paradise is one of the most interesting examples of his style of comedy, since he is undeniably trying to lampoon the class divide by creating a film that volleys between the working class and their attempts to take advantage of the high society rollers, the former being viewed as shrewd and cunning masters of their craft and the latter out-of-touch, almost airheaded eccentrics who have grown delusional as a result of their wealth. Yet, despite a potentially scathing approach, Trouble in Paradise is surprisingly tender and never once comes across as being too harsh, even at a time when several comedies were far more cynical. It can all be attributed to the fact that Lubitsch was a director who assumed the best in everyone, and his genuine compassion bled over into every one of his characters. This film contains one of the best exemplifications of the term commonly known as the “Lubitsch Touch”, that elusive and hypnotizing quality that is simultaneously lightweight and profound, hilarious and heartfelt at the same time. Not much happens in the film as a whole, but it’s all so deeply compelling, primarily because the director has such affection for each one of these characters. Tonally it is one of the most intriguing films Lubitsch ever made, and he manages to offer a sharp and meaningful critique without once even daring to be mean-spirited, assuming the best in every character and ensuring their motivations were always pure, and that their only downfall was perhaps their inability to get their heads out of the proverbial clouds. This gives Trouble in Paradise both a sense of genuine romance and allows it to be so much funnier since the focus shifts away from the characters and instead settles on the zany antics that come about as a result of their interactions.

When it came to working with actors, Lubitsch was somehow always able to bring out the best in them, regardless of their previous work or style of acting. There came a point where many performers were clamouring to work with the esteemed director, since simply being able to be guided by his visionary perspective was enough to give them layers of credibility. Trouble in Paradise is anchored by three primary performers – Miriam Hopkins, Herbert Marshall and Kay Francis, forming one of the strongest trios to appear in one of the director’s films. The key to understanding their appeal comes from looking at what each of these actors bring to the film, playing wildly different characters that are formed as archetypes, but given much more depth and nuance than we would initially anticipate. Hopkins and Francis are the primary point of focus, since they both deliver masterful comedic performances that are heartfelt and captivating, every movement and expression, coupled with their incredible handling of the rapid-fire, flowery dialogue, being the foundation for some terrific comedy, bringing out the best in both actors and consolidating them into film history. Marshall is not far behind, as his performance as the debonair jewel thief lends itself to a lot of magnificent humour at the best of times, which allows his work to stand up alongside his more notable co-stars, the trio being at the forefront of one of Lubitsch’s most daring and delightful films. There are also smaller performances from some of the director’s regular collaborators such as the always-reliable Edward Everett Horton and Charlie Ruggles, who bring a level of gravitas to a film that is perpetually youthful and energetic, giving it some elegance that is extremely important to its overall themes. The cast of Trouble in Paradise is uniformly very strong, and Lubitsch once again brings out the very best in his actors, who are more than enthralled to work with the director in realizing these bold and ambitious themes.

From the first moments of the film, where we hear the crooning of Donald Novis over an ethereal upbeat melody, to the lingering joy of the final scene as it comes to a satisfying conclusion, it is abundantly clear that Trouble in Paradise is as close to perfection as one could get, which would normally be viewed as a hyperbolic statement had it been about just about anyone other than Lubitsch, whose reputation as a master of genre and tone is perfectly encapsulated in this film. There are very rarely comedies made from this era that manages to remain timeless, and the majority of them are usually cited as being part of the screwball comedy sub-genre, which Lubitsch helped develop without actively being a participant (although a couple of his later films may qualify, even if only marginally), which is ultimately one of the reasons why Trouble in Paradise has carried such a cherished reputation, being a simple but evocative work of humour that relies on various components working in tandem to create a distinct atmosphere, one that is both chaotic and perfectly comprehensible, where nothing seems to make sense but yet everything ultimately falls into place as a result of the story taking place in an idealistic, almost utopian version of reality, where everything ultimately makes sense and no real danger is ever posed to these characters, much like the consequences of their actions are barely even noted. These are all the elements that make this film such a wildly entertaining and reliably captivating work of humour, and one of the many daring journeys into the heart of the past, as seen through the eyes of one of the great social critics of his generation. As hilarious and upbeat today as it was over ninety years ago, and while it has aged, there are universal qualities that keep it extremely relevant and undeniably entertaining in its many daring attempts to be an effervescent, delightful comedy with as much wit as it has heartfulness.