One, Two, Three
Nobody did comedy quite like Billy Wilder, did they? Whether you’re talking about a sex farce like “Some Like It Hot” or “The Seven Year Itch,” something like “The Fortune Cookie” and its pairing of Jack Lemmon and Walter Matthau, or a political satire like “One, Two, Three,” you can always tell that Wilder’s behind it, with the way he mixes bawdy raunch and belly laughs, sharp dialogue and snappy one liners. What it always comes down to, though, are the performances, and I think James Cagney in “One, Two, Three” might be one of the best. He’s a dazzling ringleader for the insanity Wilder and his co-writer, I.A.L. Diamond, have concocted here.
I cannot remember quite how I found “One, Two, Three” to watch for the first time, but I initially heard of it in “A Personal Journey With Martin Scorsese Through American Movies,” and when I watched it for myself, I loved it. Seeing it again, I think I finally remember why it stuck out so much for me, even more so than “Some Like It Hot.” The pacing of this film is out of control, and yet, completely controlled by Wilder as C.R. MacNamara (Cagney’s character) finds himself juggling the responsibilities of being the head of a Coca-Cola factory in West Berlin when his boss’s daughter flies in, and secretly gets married to an East German communist. How the heck is he supposed to explain that? MacNamara does what he does best- treat it like a business deal- and in doing so, turns an outrageous situation that will likely get him fired into a political farce where the only way out is through, and making it even more outrageous. This is one of the craziest movies in terms of plotting you’re likely to find, and that’s why it’s so much fun to watch.
It’s not surprising to see Wilder turn his gaze at the Cold War, and see lunacy between people. Hell, 30-plus years after the fall of the Soviet Union, the idea of the Cold War was lunacy; wholly predictable considering it feels like ideological conflicts are where the world feels most comfortable, but lunacy, nonetheless. “One, Two, Three” was made as the Berlin Wall was going up, but Wilder still captures that tension in his vision of a divided Berlin- he just happens to be using comedy to deflate it immediately. When MacNamara first meets Otto Piffl (Horst Buchholz), the communist husband of Scarlett (Pamela Tiffin), his boss’s daughter, his first instinct is to remove the complication (the husband) by setting him up to be arrested. It’s a typical comedy trope to do so by planting something incriminating on him, but the way Wilder does it adds another layer of political difficulty to the situation; MacNamara doesn’t plan on Piffl, under duress of questioning by the East German police (which, in Wilder’s vision, includes torturing him with “Itsy Bitsy Teenie Weenie Yellow Polka Dot Bikini”), confesses to being an American spy. When MacNamara realizes, largely through his wife’s prodding, he needs Piffl, he looks to the three Russian businessmen he’s been dealing with to try and bring Coca-Cola to the Soviet Union; it’s a tough negotiation, which Piffl’s confession complicates, but eventually, he gets Piffl back, but now, needs to make him presentable to his future father-in-law (Howard St. John). If it’s not one thing it’s another.
I need to watch more James Cagney films- I think this and “White Heat” are the only ones I’ve seen. This was his next-to-last film appearance (his last was 1981’s “Ragtime”), and he is perfect for MacNamara. This film needs a big presence to preside as ringleader over all the insanity, and not only is that Cagney personified, but he’s got the rhythm in how he can deliver dialogue to keep the film moving at its breakneck pace. This is the fastest 108-minute film I’ve ever seen, and it’s because Cagney keeps the film always going forward. Even when he’s having flirty discussions with his sexpot secretary (the hilarious Liselotte Pulver), or with his wife (Arlene Francis) when he explains why they can’t go on vacation, and have to watch out for Scarlett, or when he is talking to his building manager, Schlemmer (Hanns Lothar), the story always feels like it’s moving forward to where, by the time we’ve reached the manic third act, all of the balloons MacNamara has to keep from falling on the ground are all perfectly in sync, and how it all ends up is crazy enough to make sense.
“One, Two, Three” was not a success for Wilder in 1961, and you can see why. (It later was when it was released in East Germany in 1985.) The film was coming out at the height of the Cold War, poked fun at the lack of humanity in capitalism as well as saw communism as absurdity. Neither side comes out smelling like roses. But that’s why what Wilder and Diamond wrote here is genuinely entertaining, and kind of sweet- this story doesn’t work without people looking past ideology, and seeing that people are more important than politics. In it’s own way, it might be an ideal film for people to rediscover right now.
