English text below

«Ein abgebrühter adeliger Lebemann in Paris verliebt sich in eine politische Kommissarin aus der noch jungen Sowjetunion, die nach vielen Widerständen seinem Charme und dem der kultivierten bourgeoisen Zivilisation des Westens erliegt. (...) Unter Lubitschs subtiler Regie spielte Greta Garbo ihre einzige wirklich gelungene komische Rolle.» (Lexikon des int. Films)
«Eine Satire, die sich an die Realitäten nicht hält, schon gar nicht an die politischen, dennoch als ein Stück vorgeblicher Politgeschichte aber menschlich tief wahr ist. (…) Erkennt man, dass es sich in diesem Film nicht um die Wirklichkeit handelt (…), sondern dass die Lust am Dasein die frohe Botschaft von Ninotchka ausmacht, dann wird man seinen heitersten Spass an diesem Film haben. (…) Die Autoren haben zugleich eine Satire auf die Mythisierung dieser Schauspielerin geschrieben, die mitzutragen Greta Garbo ihrerseits geistvoll genug war.» (Martin Schlappner, NZZ, 23.12.1983)

«Hobbits romp, avengers avenge, and the special effects we’ve come to endure do their busy best to awe us. But no computer trick is as glorious as the thaw that melts icy Greta Garbo into fire. She arrives in Paris, this somber Soviet emissary called Ninotchka, to the tongue-wagging surprise of her comrades (‹Don’t make an issue of my womanhood,› she announces). She endures the amorous attention of Melvyn Douglas, a count who runs at the mouth (‹You are very talkative› is her stern observation). But then, there she is, privately bewitched by a ridiculous hat—the cornucopia, a style that Garbo would come to popularize—and we see a hint of vulnerability, a playful affection for silly, wonderful things.
That’s as close a definition of the vaunted ‹Lubitsch touch› we can muster, and if you haven’t seen any of the German expat’s exquisite Hollywood output, start here. Ninotchka is delicate flirtation and political satire made into a perfect whole, and a reminder of skills that studio writers have largely lost. In their moment, the film’s Stalin jokes got bigger yuks than they do now, but sublimely, the sense of romantic dislocation has lost none of its swirl or heat. Famously, Garbo opened that clenched mouth of hers and laughed like a loon; the feelings you’ll have will go deeper.» (Joshua Rothkopf, Time Out)
«The script was written by the team of Charles Brackett and Billy Wilder, along with Walter Reisch, from a story by Melchior Lengyel. Brackett and Wilder had worked on the script of Bluebeard’s Eighth Wife for Lubitsch the previous year, and their other credits in 1939 included the delightful romantic comedy Midnight. Their script for Ninotchka stands as one of their finest works, and much of the satire of the Soviets and of Communism echoes jokes that Wilder would use in his Cold War-era comedy, One, Two, Three. The plot involves jewels that have been stolen from the Grand Duchess Swana. Count Leon d’Algout is tasked with rescuing the jewels before they are sold on the black market in Paris. Nina Ivanova Yakushova, aka ‹Ninotchka›, is sent by the Soviets to see that the transaction goes through as planned. However, the icy Ninotchka meets the charming Leon, and finds herself seduced both by Leon and by Paris.» (Matt Barry, notcoming.com, 2011)

Drehbuch: Charles Brackett, Billy Wilder, Walter Reisch, nach einer Erzählung von Melchior Lengyel
Kamera: William Daniels
Musik: Werner R. Heymann
Schnitt: Gene Ruggiero

Mit: Greta Garbo (Ninotchka/Nina Ivanovna Yakushova), Melvyn Douglas (Graf Léon d'Algout), Ina Claire (Grossfürstin Swana), Sig Rumann (Michael Simonovitch Iranoff), Felix Bressart (Buljanoff), Alexander Granach (Kopalski), Bela Lugosi (Kommissar Razinin), Gregory Gaye (Graf Alexis Rakonin), Richard Carle (Gaston), Rolfe Sedan (Hoteldirektor), Edwin Maxwell (Mercier)

110 Min., sw, 35 mm, E+Russ/d/f, ab 6