The Smiling Lieutenant: A Film That Challenges the Snowflakes

The Smiling Lieutenant: A Film That Challenges the Snowflakes

'The Smiling Lieutenant' is a daring 1931 film that challenged social norms with humor and rebellion, long before modern sitcoms took a similar approach.

Vince Vanguard

Vince Vanguard

If you think today’s trending sitcoms are edgy, wait until you hear about the 1931 film 'The Smiling Lieutenant'—a comedy that exposed the very fabric of social norms way before it was cool to do so. Directed by Ernst Lubitsch, this pre-Code American romantic musical comedy pushes boundaries with its audacious plot and has more backbone than a pool of cooked spaghetti, something you might find refreshing or outrageous, depending on how the scales of your political awareness tip. Starring Maurice Chevalier, Claudette Colbert, and Miriam Hopkins, this gem deals with infidelity, mistaken identity, and the charming chaos of love caught in a political crossfire.

What makes 'The Smiling Lieutenant' an attention-grabber? Picture Vienna in the early 1930s. Lieutenant Niki, a dashing Austrian officer known for his smiles—and his attunement to romantic entanglements—unintentionally winks at Princess Anna, played by Miriam Hopkins, during a parade. She misreads it as flirtation meant for her, even though it's Niki’s girlfriend, Franzi, played deftly by Claudette Colbert, who's the intended recipient. Chaos ensues and, if it were the age of Twitter wars, the memes would have broken the internet.

Ernst Lubitsch, renowned for his 'Lubitsch Touch,' whisked audiences into a world where humor tickled at the smallest societal gaffes. But make no mistake, behind the slapstick veneer is a clever critique of what was considered upright and decorous behavior in high society. It’s a charming reminder that drama-queen narratives aren’t the sole birthright of modern-day activists inspired by keyboard consensus.

The real charm lies in the film’s progressive undertones. Franzi, not the kind to sit and watch drama unfold passively, steps up in a manner that most contemporary movies barely dare. She instructs the uptight, style-restricted Princess Anna on how to catch and keep the attention of a man—a lesson that implies pragmatic merit over emotional indulgence. The plot thickens into what might seem like moral anarchy—a princess winning over a city lieutenant thanks to lessons from his jilted girlfriend. The audacity!

Let’s talk lyrics people: Niki and Franzi share a provocative duet dubbed “Jazz Up Your Lingerie.” In a pre-Hayes Code Hollywood, this kind of sauciness was a daring commentary on the female role transitioning from passive decorations to active participants in romance and sexuality. The film's comedic yet intentional treatment of infidelity and relationship dynamics raises questions about traditionalist views that some assert are in decline, if not under attack altogether.

It's crucial to understand this film as a document of its time, transcending its age to poke fun at antiquated social constructs like arranged marriages and moral outrage over open displays of affection. All this in an era that would make today’s progressives think they've harnessed human history's golden peak of freedom and self-expression. Lubitsch knew well that scandal sells, and 'The Smiling Lieutenant' was a scandal palatably softened, so the audience received the sugar-coated pill of radical ideas.

What’s even more audacious is how the film sidesteps punishment for Niki. Despite juggling two women and engaging in actions worthy of a modern moral dissection, the narrative doesn’t toss him into a pit of comeuppance. Instead, it teases privilege, forgiveness, and carefree living, suggesting a nuanced view of human foibles that doesn't always equate guilt with glorified redemption arcs.

Lubitsch gathered a cast that exuded charisma and chemistry reminiscent of today’s romantic comedy hallmarks. Maurice Chevalier naturally oozes the charm of playful nonchalance, perfectly embodying the carefree lieutenant whose interests, though unpredictable, become the lifeblood of the film's humor and unpredictability. Claudette Colbert and Miriam Hopkins flawlessly present the paradox of competition versus politeness, existing in a humorous prelude to more liberated, more expressive roles.

It’s a film of parallels, where people today can reflect on current cultural battlegrounds—the fight for personal freedom amidst so-called societal expectations. Classic elements highlight timeless themes: love in conflict, the challenge of societal constraints, and the indomitable human spirit's inclination to occasionally ruffle tradition’s feathers.

Watch 'The Smiling Lieutenant' not just as a reflection of a bygone era but as a tale unafraid to bear its wit against the ever-serious world of stuffy tradition. While today’s culture loves to tout its unfathomable enlightenment on gender politics and freedom, this film slyly reminds us those dances started twirling a century ago. The real takeaway here is Lubitsch challenging us to laugh at uproariously human flaws. Perhaps there’s more to learn from those pre-code storytellers than today’s cultural commentators would like to admit.