

By Douglas Pratt Pratt@moviecitynews.com
DVD Geek: Design for Living
Ernst Lubitsch’s delightful 1933 tale of a woman who is shared by two men but marries a third, Design for Living, has been released on Blu-ray by The Criterion Collection. Sexy as all get out as she stretches across a bed in the film’s La Boheme-style Parisian garret where the two men live, Miriam Hopkins stars with Gary Cooper, Frederic March and Edward Everett Horton. Ostensibly, the film is staged in an artificial manner, with performances to match, and has an erratic narrative jumping not only from character to character, but from country to country; yet it consistently and joyfully seems about as perfect as a movie can be. Made before the Production Code cleaned up his innuendos and flagrant sexual metaphors, Lubitsch constantly teases the viewer with his balancing act of sharing and hiding what the characters are thinking and doing. Almost as an afterthought, each man’s fortunes rise because of his association with Hopkins’ character, and yet, for each, it is a downward trajectory of spirit when she turns her attentions elsewhere. Running 91 minutes, the film achieves density through the masterful precision of Lubitsch’s style, so that while it seems like a lighthearted romantic comedy, there are so many resonances to each image and sound—all of which are greatly solidified with the Blu-ray’s delivery—that its intrigues and pleasures endure timelessly.
The full screen black-and-white picture has an age-related softness but is otherwise in excellent condition. The monophonic sound also has age-related limitations of range, but is fully functional. There are optional English subtitles. As a treat, Lubitsch’s 3-minute segment from the 1932 If I Had a Million, featuring Charles Laughton, is offered in the supplements.
Criterion has also included a valuable 1964 black-and-white broadcast of a soundstage performances of the original Noël Coward play, running 74 minutes and starring John Wood, Daniel Massey and Jill Bennett, with an introduction by Coward in the flesh. The play sort of works like a sequel to the film, since the three characters already have a strong relationship with one another at the opening, although they then proceed, as in the film, to pair off and break up, in Paris and London, before coming back together in New York to thumb their noses at convention. On the strength of its visual approach alone, the Lubitsch film is a great deal more appealing, and its dialog is also wittier, but there is an inherent attractiveness to the basic free-spirited nature of the characters, which are all well played in the telefilm, and the program is interesting as a point of reference to the inspired improvements Lubitsch and his team brought to the property. In an elaboration of that point, there is also a good 22-minute comparison of the play to the film, a history of the script’s development, and an analysis of its themes by Joseph McBride, which dovetails quite effectively with a more elaborate 36-minute analysis of the film’s artistry and its similarities to Lubitsch’s Trouble in Paradise by film historian William Paul. ‘Irony’ is always a difficult concept to communicate and Paul does a very good job of explaining why the many ironies in Lubitsch’s works are so effective and so enriching.