Ernst Lubitsch

For some nine decades, scholars, critics and fans have described German émigré Ernst Lubitsch's skill as a comedic director with the phrase "the Lubitsch Touch." But what exactly is the "Touch"? "Everybody has been trying to define that for so many years," says Rick Jewell, professor at USC School of Cinematic Arts. "I would have to say it all distills down to wit. There was a very special wit in the Lubitsch films. It was a visual wit, but it was also a wit in terms of the performances, which he clearly shaped.

The American Cinematheque's Egyptian Theatre in Hollywood celebrates its 89th birthday Tuesday evening with a rare gift: the Los Angeles premiere of the recently restored version of Ernst Lubitsch's 1922 German epic, "The Loves of Pharaoh. " Robert Israel will conduct a 16-piece orchestra playing the original score by renowned opera composer Eduard Künneke. The guest of honor at the screening will be Lubitsch's daughter, Nicola, 73. "I have not seen it," she said. "The thing that I am really interested in is that the music is the original score that Daddy commissioned.

Undeserving of its obscure status, "The Shop Around the Corner" offers two beloved stars at their romantic peak, a glossy MGM treatment and the blessings of a genuinely appealing love story. Director Ernst Lubitsch, who forever defined sophisticated film comedy with "Ninotchka" and "Trouble in Paradise," brought his famed touch to more down-to-earth subjects in this 1940 film.

Under ordinary circumstances, "Celebrating Classic Cinema: Curator and Audience Favorites," the exceptional new repertory program starting Friday at the Los Angeles County Museum of Art, would be a cause for unreserved happiness and joy. But these are not ordinary times at LACMA. The series comprises some of the greatest films ever made, prime examples of classic cinema that include some of my own favorites — films like Max Ophüls' breathtaking "The Earrings of Madame de...," Ernst Lubitsch's daringly funny "To Be or Not to Be," and Michael Powell and Emeric Pressburger's sweepingly romantic "I Know Where I'm Going.

"Ah, Monsieur Rabelais," one of a group of deeply amused 16th century Frenchmen says to the smiling man at the head of their table in a vintage New Yorker cartoon. "There is simply no word to describe your earthy, ribald sense of humor." And so it is with Ernst Lubitsch, a pillar of Hollywood's golden age.

It is unlikely that the Hollywood of 1993 would have much use for Ernst Lubitsch, or he for it. The undisputed master of the sophisticated sex comedy ("Trouble in Paradise," "Ninotchka" and "Design for Living" are among the director's best-loved films of the 1930s), Lubitsch was also the inventor of a unique film language, based on suggestion, inference, metaphor and ellipsis. In a medium invented to show everything, he showed nothing and yet he revealed all.

It doesn't get much better than the lightning-fast, perfectly timed tête-à-tête of two charming cons in director Ernst Lubitsch's 1932 delight "Trouble in Paradise," which kicks off LACMA's July tribute to the great comic mind at the Bing Theatre on Friday night. The film is breathless fun as Miriam Hopkins' Lily and Herbert Marshall's Gaston flirt their way toward disaster, relieving the unsuspecting of pocket watches, jewelry and cash with the slightest sleights of hand. Trouble comes in the form of the rich and lovely Madam Mariette Colet (Kay Francis)

The sentiments expressed by screenwriters Nicholas Kazan, Robin Swicord and Michael Tolkin are not only valid but long overdue ("Scorsese, Lange's Script: Knock Writer of 'Cape Fear,' " Dec. 2). De Maupassant--himself no mean writer--must have had some presentiment of what the future film writer was in for when he created "Ball of Fat," for, like his good and giving heroine, we "Hollywood writers" are forever called on to save producers and directors. The studio heads, indie producers and (above all)

The American moviegoing public has the mind of a 12-year-old child; it must have life as it isn't. That's the only handicap of the American screen; you have everything else. --Ernst Lubitsch Ernst Lubitsch--whose centenary is celebrated with a retrospective through June 13 at the Los Angeles County Museum of Art--was the master of a kind of film barely made any more: witty, sparkling romance.

For years, Ernst Lubitsch admirers have bemoaned the lack of home video availability of those essential films from the director's prodigious Paramount period (1928-1938), especially the revered "Trouble in Paradise." But alas, the Lubitsch legion is far too small to matter commercially ("Angel" and "Bluebeard's Eighth Wife" are available solely because of the marketability of Marlene Dietrich and Claudette Colbert).

Jennifer Jones became one of the top stars of the 1940s and '50s under the guidance of her second husband, uber-producer David O. Selznick. Because of Selznick's firm grip, though, Jones didn't make as many movies as some of her contemporaries, such as Bette Davis and Joan Crawford. As a result, many people today aren't familiar with her work, save perhaps for her final role as Fred Astaire's love interest in 1974's "The Towering Inferno. " But during her career, Jones earned a lead actress Oscar for 1943's "The Song of Bernadette" and received nominations for 1944's "Since You Went Away," 1945's "Love Letters," 1946's "Duel in the Sun" and 1955's "Love Is a Many Splendored-Thing.

I can't help but think that the lovely fun of Ernst Lubitsch's 1943 "Heaven Can Wait" was colored by the massive heart attack that nearly felled him when he was finishing the film. It was the director's first go at color, and he's careful with its use. Don Ameche is absolutely charming as the dapper, devious businessman who finds himself knocking on Hades door with Satan not at all convinced he should let him in.

It doesn't get much better than the lightning-fast, perfectly timed tête-à-tête of two charming cons in director Ernst Lubitsch's 1932 delight "Trouble in Paradise," which kicks off LACMA's July tribute to the great comic mind at the Bing Theatre on Friday night. The film is breathless fun as Miriam Hopkins' Lily and Herbert Marshall's Gaston flirt their way toward disaster, relieving the unsuspecting of pocket watches, jewelry and cash with the slightest sleights of hand. Trouble comes in the form of the rich and lovely Madam Mariette Colet (Kay Francis)

For some nine decades, scholars, critics and fans have described German émigré Ernst Lubitsch's skill as a comedic director with the phrase "the Lubitsch Touch." But what exactly is the "Touch"? "Everybody has been trying to define that for so many years," says Rick Jewell, professor at USC School of Cinematic Arts. "I would have to say it all distills down to wit. There was a very special wit in the Lubitsch films. It was a visual wit, but it was also a wit in terms of the performances, which he clearly shaped.

Quentin Tarantino has long considered the original "Inglorious Bastards" to be his "own private little movie." So when he bought the rights to Enzo Castellari's little-seen 1978 Italian World War II flick -- later retitled "G.I. Bro" to capitalize on football-star-turned-actor Fred Williamson's presence -- the assumption was that Tarantino aimed to create another cinematic collage, similar to what he did with his two "Kill Bill" movies, martial-arts mash-ups that wore their references on their kimono sleeves.

Directors like Rob Marshall, Bill Condon, Adam Shankman and Tim Burton might be the latest filmmakers to craft engaging cinematic musicals, but, back when sound was new to the art form, it was German emigre director Ernst Lubitsch whose breezy, clever style and sophisticated story lines redefined the genre. After making a name for himself in silent cinema in Europe and Hollywood, Lubitsch brought his unique vision to the musical.

Under ordinary circumstances, "Celebrating Classic Cinema: Curator and Audience Favorites," the exceptional new repertory program starting Friday at the Los Angeles County Museum of Art, would be a cause for unreserved happiness and joy. But these are not ordinary times at LACMA. The series comprises some of the greatest films ever made, prime examples of classic cinema that include some of my own favorites — films like Max Ophüls' breathtaking "The Earrings of Madame de...," Ernst Lubitsch's daringly funny "To Be or Not to Be," and Michael Powell and Emeric Pressburger's sweepingly romantic "I Know Where I'm Going.

Jennifer Jones became one of the top stars of the 1940s and '50s under the guidance of her second husband, uber-producer David O. Selznick. Because of Selznick's firm grip, though, Jones didn't make as many movies as some of her contemporaries, such as Bette Davis and Joan Crawford. As a result, many people today aren't familiar with her work, save perhaps for her final role as Fred Astaire's love interest in 1974's "The Towering Inferno. " But during her career, Jones earned a lead actress Oscar for 1943's "The Song of Bernadette" and received nominations for 1944's "Since You Went Away," 1945's "Love Letters," 1946's "Duel in the Sun" and 1955's "Love Is a Many Splendored-Thing.

"Ah, Monsieur Rabelais," one of a group of deeply amused 16th century Frenchmen says to the smiling man at the head of their table in a vintage New Yorker cartoon. "There is simply no word to describe your earthy, ribald sense of humor." And so it is with Ernst Lubitsch, a pillar of Hollywood's golden age.

Sisters Nora and Delia Ephron are sitting in Nora's kitchen discussing their latest collaboration, "You've Got Mail." On the table is cold ham and strawberries, which they produced with practiced teamwork. Outside is the familiar sound of jackhammering. The atmosphere is maternal and professional, and the movie they made, which opens Dec. 18, reflects who they are: Nora is smart, acerbic, unabashedly romantic; Delia has the same qualities, but in different proportions.