In 1917, the young Ernst Lubitsch directed his first marital farce, Das fidele Gefängnis,, based on Strauss’ operetta Die Fledermaus. The title means The Merry Prison, a transparent metaphor for marriage, which of course is a prison, like all social constructions – but if you live it with the right nonchalance, slipping between its bars without disturbing the perfect fall of your tuxedo, it can be the most enchanting of prisons. Certain great American comedies by Lubitsch – from So This Is Paris to Angel to the existential recap Heaven Can Wait – will later explore variations on this theme, laced with secrets and melancholy beneath the glossy surface of irony. In One Hour with You, lightheartedness reigns: Viennese operetta meets the Parisian boulevard in the couplets by MacDonald and Chevalier (she sings, he nearly does, the chemistry works) or in the direct appeals to the audience, called in as both witness and accomplice to an adulterous temptation one cannot resist, for reasons best left unsaid: “I love my wife and she’s even lovelier, but… oh! that Mitzi!” – one of the highest peaks of pure Chevalierism. Lubitsch’s mind was really elsewhere – he was reworking the ill-fated Broken Lullaby, and Trouble in Paradise was under way. Still, he cared about this remake of The Marriage Circle (which doesn’t quite match the original’s rhythmic and theoretical perfection) and took it back from George Cukor, to whom he had entrusted it in his role as producer. Hence: eccentric spaces, staircases that “look like a piano keys” (Paolo Poli), astral Art Deco chandeliers, the usual marvels. The title is beautiful: if the shattered modernity of Warhol promised everyone 15 minutes of fame, the libertine classicism of Lubitsch guarantees the universal right to one hour with you – where, when, and who that you might be, is up to a roll of the dice. If you are romantic and lucky enough, it will be with your husband, your wife, one spring night in Paris, on a bench in the Bois.

Paola Cristalli