Tyler Sorensen

History of Film

ONE, TWO, THREE

THE OTHER COLD WAR SATIRE

Although the director was famously cagey on the topic, it's arguably reasonable to say that Billy

Wilder was at the top of his career in 1961. His last picture, The Apartment, had been an enormous hit

with critics and audiences, grossing $25 million at the box office. The film was subsequently

nominated in every major category at the Academy Awards and was the recipient of five out of a total

of ten nominations. Wilder himself took home three for Best Picture, Best Director, and Best Original

Screenplay which he shared with I.A.L. Diamond. As he was accepting his second Oscar, the presenter

for the night, playwright Moss Hart, leaned slightly and whispered into the director's ear, “It's time to

stop, Billy.” The tremendous feat didn't slow down Wilder one bit. Shooting commenced immediately

two months later on the follow-up to The Apartment and the result would become his most breathlessly

paced film yet.

In One, Two, Three, James Cagney plays C.R. MacNamara, a Coca-Cola executive stationed in

West Berlin with his wife (Arlene Francis) and kids shortly after the construction of the Berlin Wall. He

maintains his comfort at work, philandering with his German secretary, Fräulein Ingeborg (Lilo Pulver)

and consulting with East German communists about spreading Coke across the Iron Curtain. This

quaint life capsizes when MacNamara receives a call from his boss, Mr. Hazeltine (Howard St. John) in

Atlanta. His boss' hot-blooded daughter, Scarlett (Pamela Tiffin) is visiting Berlin and Hazeltine would

him to look after her for a few weeks. Longing to be relocated to a better job, MacNamara agrees. Two

weeks quickly fade into two months. On the eve of Hazeltine's arrival, the impetuous Scarlett reveals

that she's been sneaking across the border and has married a communist, Otto Piffl (Horst Buchholz).

Realizing the impending disaster, MacNamara sabotages Otto to be arrested by the East German secret

police. After Scarlett is found to be pregnant, MacNamara is forced to return Otto and pass him off as

respectable capitalist. All that faster than you can say, “one, two, three!”
 The origins of One, Two, Three can be traced back to Wilder's younger years in Berlin. As an

ambitious ghostwriter in 1929, he saw Egy, Kettö, Három, a German production of a play by Ferenc

Molnár. In it was Max Pallenberg, an actor best remembered for his rapid staccato line readings. It was

something that Wilder marveled greatly. The play's storyline is the basis for Wilder's film and contains

the same skeletal structure. A banker agrees to look after a very important client's daughter. When she

goes and marries a socialist cab driver, the banker is forced to transform him into an aristocrat in order

to keep the client's account. The writer-director saw the play as still being relevant in the early 1960's.

Wilder drew from his earlier years working at Paramount. While at the studio he often battled with

executive Frank Freeman Jr, who boasted of his vast holdings of Coca-Cola stock. This was the basis

for the character of MacNamara (it should also be noted that the Secretary of Defense at the time was

Robert MacNamara). For the script, Wilder sought his familiar writing companion, I.A.L. Diamond, to

collaborate on the screenplay.

Billy Wilder was always first and foremost a screenwriter. As a young Jewish writer in

Germany, he fled to the United States to continue his aspirations after the rise of Hitler. Never

completely assured of his English, Wilder always chose to co-write his scripts. He was paired up with

Charles Brackett in the late thirties and was lured into directing only after unsatisfactory changes to his

screenplays, most notably in Hold Back The Dawn in 1941. It was at that moment that Wilder vowed to

become a director. His lengthly and valuable partnership with Brackett ended with the apex of Sunset

Blvd. in 1950. After drifting through various collaborators for the duration of the decade, Billy Wilder

met I.A.L. Diamond, commonly known as Iz, in 1956. Together, the wrote the screenplay for Love in

the Afternoon, released the following year. A new working relationship was struck. Wilder would work

closely with Diamond for the rest of his career.

One, Two, Three was the fourth screenplay produced by the already accomplished duo. With

two Academy Award nominations in the past two years, the pair were very comfortable working

together. Readers should look for their cleverly-placed nuances. The screenplay to Some Like It Hot
ends with, “But that's another story – and we're not quite sure the public is ready for it.” Likewise, The

Apartment concludes with, “And that's about it. Story-wise.” One, Two, Three in turn, begins with

specific instructions from the writers: "This piece must be played 'molto furioso.' Suggested speed: 110

miles an hour - on the curves - 140 miles an hour in the straightways.” It's clear that the director had a

clear vision for the film and the breakneck speed was certainly reflected. Unlike Wilder's traditional

comedies with the laughs timed with the utmost precision, this was promised from page one to be a

nonstop flow of jokes. Wilder told fellow writer-director Cameron Crowe the premise of the picture:

“The general idea was, let's make the fastest picture in the world, and give the actors, in order to make

it seem fast, some slower scenes too. [...] We did not wait, for once, for the big laughs. We went

through the big laughs. A lot of lines needed a springboard, and we just went right through the

springboard. We just did it –brrrrp.” For inspiration, Billy Wilder looked at the Marx Brothers and

imagined if they were in Berlin during the Cold War. These continual musings led him to consider a

picture about the Marx Brothers in the United Nations as his next movie after One, Two, Three.

Unfortunately, the project never came to fruition and was abandoned after Chico and Harpo Marx's

death in 1961 and 1964, respectively.

The script was completed after eight months and filming took place immediately after from

June to September of 1961. It was a fast and hectic time for everyone as it was shot on location in both

East and West Berlin through the Brandenburg Gate. It was especially difficult for star James Cagney,

who reputed it as his the most exhausting film he ever did because of the sheer speed of his expected

delivery (He took a 20-year hiatus after making One, Two, Three). Some mornings, Cagney was found

on the set early rhythmically stomping his feet, building himself gradually up to speed physically with

the dialogue. There were also tense emotions between Cagney and his co-star, Horst Buchholz. Cagney

wrote in his autobiography that Buchholz was the only actor he encountered in his career that he

loathed working with and claimed he tried too many scene-stealing moves.

Director Billy Wilder was also very particular with his script. He apparently made Jimmy
Cagney do over 30 takes of a specific scene because he kept saying, “coat and striped pants” instead of

the preferred “morning coat and striped pants.” Horst Buchholz recounted an exchange with Wilder to

biographer Charlotte Chandler: “In the middle of a scene, [Billy Wilder] stopped me from going on

because I'd said, like one sometimes says in real life, 'Oh, well.' And he called the script girl and said,

'Where is it written, “Oh, well”?' She says, 'There is no “Oh, well.”' And he said, 'Horst – no “Oh,

well's,” please. I've worked with Izzy Diamond for eight months on this script. If we had thought of one

“Oh, well,” we would have written it down.' I thought, 'This is just normal speech, like in real life,' but

I put it out of my mind.”

The film was made relatively fast considering two major setbacks during production. In the

middle of August, the crew were nearly done shooting at the Brandenburg Gate, with only two or three

days left. Construction on the Berlin Wall began one night after the team left, right through the set.

Discovering it the next morning, the crew quickly scrambled for another alternative. They eventually

settled in the parking lot of neighboring Bavaria Film Studios, outside Munich. There, an exact replica

of the Brandenburg Gate was erected out of paper-mâché. This huge change to the conditions of the

story provoked Wilder and Diamond to add the following opening narration by Cagney to the script:

“On Sunday, August 13th, 1961, the eyes of America were on the nation's capital, where Roger Maris

was hitting home runs #44 and 45 against the Senators. On that same day, without any warning, the

East German Communists sealed off the border between East and West Berlin. I only mention this to

show the kind of people we're dealing with - REAL SHIFTY!”

The other incident occurred days before shooting was to be completed in Germany. On the

outskirts of Munich, Horst Buchholz was involved in a near-fatal alcohol-related car crash, hitting three

trees. He was in a coma for some time afterwards. When he awoke, Buchholz was told by his doctors

that he had a bruise on his head and might've suffered some internal injuries because the car's steering

wheel had been badly bent. Billy Wilder waited in the hospital with Buchholz's wife. When she was

asked permission to operate, she rejected the notion of exploratory surgery on her husband's behalf.
Wilder persuaded, “If nothing is wrong, he will have a little scar. If something is wrong, they will find

it and fix it.” She was convinced in the golden hour, the last chance for surgery. His injuries would have

caused a fast death if it weren't for the operation. Buchholz always maintained that he owed his life to

Wilder. Ten days later, the final scene of One, Two, Three, at the Tempelhof Air Field, was shot in the

studio at Los Angeles. The movie was completed just in time.

One, Two, Three's successful execution relies almost entirely on the “molto furioso” delivery

from its actors with James Cagney clearly the primary driving force of the picture. His performance

alone is the main attraction. His dialogue comes fast and often. If by chance you didn't catch a

particular joke that was said a second ago, another two are ready to be served. Cagney's words are

usually shouted rather than spoken, making the film a somewhat dizzying experience. In the finale,

orders are given out left and right at such blistering speed, it rivals Howard Hawks' fast-talking picture,

His Girl Friday and is reminiscent of Edward G. Robinson's speech in Wilder's Double Indemnity. The

work was so draining, that Cagney apparently said about director Wilder, “I don't want to make another

film with this man. He makes me speak too fast.” Despite the differences between the two, both

filmmakers managed to turn in an exceptional product. Many years after, Billy Wilder had nothing but

good things to say about his one time with the actor. “[...] Cagney was the picture. He really had the

rhythm, and that was very good. We just did it, nine pages at a time, and he never fumbled, he never

made a mistake. He is an actor that was born to play that part. I didn't tell him anything. We rehearsed a

scene once, and he then says, 'All right, when do we go?' And if it's a long speech I say, 'This is going

to take us a day, a day and a half, two days.' And he says, 'No. Why should it? Just don't tell me how

long it is. It's in my memory. Let's do it.' And he did it.” When Jimmy Cagney's name is mentioned,

most people bring up Yankee Doodle Dandy or his popular gangster pictures like The Public Enemy (In

a subtle, yet hilarious nod to the movie, Cagney threatens Horst Buchholz with a grapefruit in One,

Two, Three). In that regard, his superb performance in One, Two, Three was overlooked at the Academy

Awards for that year and is consequently underrated in his long career as an actor.
 Co-starring with Cagney are Horst Buchholz and newcomer Pamela Tiffin. As a native to

Berlin, Buchholz brought an element of authenticity to the role and seems especially sincere as an East

Berlin communist. He reads Wilder and Diamond's dialogue with real conviction. Although he and

James Cagney clashed often around the set, it reflects quite accurately onscreen and gives their

relationship added depth. Pamela Tiffin plays the absent-minded boss's daughter with the adequate

exaggeration required for the part. She was understandingly intimidated by working with other well-

established actors.

According to legend, Jimmy Cagney gave her famous acting advice: “Walk into a room. Plant yourself.

Look the other fella in the eye and tell the truth.” Arlene Francis of “What's My Line?” fame has a

supporting role as Cagney's wife and keeps everyone grounded with wonderfully sarcastic dialogue.

Rounding out the cast are Hanns Lothar as Schlemmer and Liselotte Pulver as Ingeborg. Lothar is

absolutely terrific as the loyal heel-clicking German assistant to MacNamara. Lilo Pulver is also

equally mesmerizing as his secretary. Likewise, composer André Previn's presence contributes a lot to

the pace of the picture. He gleefully blends Aram Khachaturian's well-known circus tune, “Sabre

Dance” into the opening titles with his own original music. Many recognize the song as the theme that

accompanies Mack Sennet's popular series of Keystone Cops silent films. Again, it's another element

that adds to the overall wired frenzy of the movie.

One, Two, Three was produced by The Mirisch Corporation and released under United Artists

December 15, 1961. To fully understand the reception, and the jokes for that matter, of the film, it's

necessary to have a basic knowledge of the political climate of the time. The height of the Cold War.

Following the death of Stalin, Nikita Khrushchev had been the First Secretary of the Communist Party

in the Soviet Union since 1953. The aftermath of Joseph McCarthy's intense trials were not far from

people's minds. The Warsaw Pact was an ever-present threat to NATO. The first war by proxy had

ended with a tentative stalemate. Fidel Castro in Cuba had been in power for nearly three years. The

Bay of Pigs Invasion had failed miserably. The first man in space was from the Soviet Union. The
Berlin Wall had been constructed only months prior. John F. Kennedy was in office. The Cuban Missile

Crisis was but a year away and remarkably, One, Two, Three predicts the trauma in what else but a

punchline. When MacNamara is discussing Coke with three communist comrades (think Lubitsch's

Ninotchka), he offers them cigarettes and cigars. The leader of the trio, Peripetchikoff returns the favor

with his own. “Here, take one of these,” he says. MacNamara accepts, “Thanks. Hm, 'Made in

Havana'.” Peripetchikoff adds dryly, “We have trade agreement with Cuba. They send us cigars. We

send them rockets.” “Good thinking,” replies MacNamara. After coughing sporadically he changes his

mind. “You know something? You guys got cheated. This is a pretty crummy cigar.” Peripetchikoff

nods, “Do not worry. We send them pretty crummy rockets.”

Critically, the film received many favorable reviews and commercially, it didn't lose money at

the box office. Unfortunately for the filmmakers, most moviegoers at the time were too involved with

the seriousness of the targeted subject matter. Some of the lines scripted before the release date were no

longer humorous with such high international tension between the United States and the Soviet Union.

The movie was a complete flop in Germany and was even banned in Finland where the county was

mindful of their neutrality between the superpowers. Immediately afterwards, Billy Wilder called it “a

great miscalculation” though he would later grow very fond of the movie and take back his statement.

The original New York Times review was much more forgiving than its director and labeled One, Two,

Three a “Critic's Pick” saying, “it is one which you can laugh – with its own impudence toward foreign

crisis – while laughing at its rowdy spinning jokes.” Variety published a similar review, with its lone

weakness being that the wit is susceptible to getting “snarled and smothered in overlap.” The movie did

not feature any revolutionary narrative techniques and it's not surprising. With the exception of Sunset

Blvd, Wilder was never one to be consciously avant-garde in his story-telling. West Side Story,

Judgment at Nuremberg, The Hustler, and Breakfast at Tiffany's were the popular titles of the year, with

the former winning ten Academy Awards. One, Two, Three received only one nomination in the now

defunct category of black and white cinematography for Daniel L. Fapp (he won for color
cinematography for West Side Story).

It wasn't until the late eighties that One, Two, Three's public reaction caught up with the critics

20 years before. The picture was re-released in Germany in 1986 and premiered in Finland a year later.

It was a new smash hit. When the Berlin Wall toppled in 1989, it was even more sensational. After

almost three decades, the film had finally found its audience in the European market. Still, Billy

Wilder's neglected follow-up to The Apartment is long overdue for its status to be counted with the

other great Cold War satires. It's time we remembered Dr. Strangelove, The Russians Are Coming, The

Russians Are Coming, and One, Two, Three.