Ninotchka (Lubitsch, 1939) is a testament to two ineffable wonders of the Hollywood studio system: Greta Garbo and the “Lubitsch Touch.” In their only outing together each risked a bit of novelty. “The Divine” had been declared box office poison in 1938 and consented to stick her lovely neck out in a comedy. “Garbo Laughs” is the famous tagline with which MGM promoted the film. Ernst Lubitsch was, of course, famous for romantic comedy but had never taken on a story so topical and political, a parable about the clash of communism and capitalism, as embodied by two lovers and a host of material objects—an exquisitely impractical hat, contested royal jewels, artworks, portraits, and many other elements of costume and decor. Ninotchka displays considerable knowledge of Stalinist Russia—its art and repression—as well as contemporary Parisian art and fashion, lending this classic comedy an undercurrent of critical realism.

The encounter between capitalist luxury and communist austerity is gendered but not in the expected manner. The noble but relatively impecunious Count Leon d’Algout (Melvyn Douglas), a pleasure-seeking gigolo, represents an idle Paris where haute couture trickles down to everyday chic, food and drink are to be savored, and electricity is “wasted” on atmospheric sparkle. On the other hand, Ninotchka's androgyny (which is Garbo’s) represents Moscow with its fierce winters, athleticism, and Spartan conditions, a steeliness stereotypically seen as masculine.

Lubitsch would have known of the Soviet State's repression of material desires firsthand. In 1936, not long before he made Ninotchka, he had traveled to Moscow, a trip mysteriously cut short, and about which he remained uncharacteristically mum.