A Risky Premise in a Tense Time
In 1966, the Cold War wasn't a history lesson; it was a daily reality of geopolitical tension and nuclear anxiety. Into this climate stepped director Norman Jewison, who, after a string of light comedies, was determined to make a film with something to say.
His chosen project was The Russians Are Coming, the Russians Are Coming, a satirical comedy based on Nathaniel Benchley's novel The Off-Islanders. The plot was simple but audacious: a Soviet submarine accidentally runs aground off a small New England island, causing panic and chaos among the townspeople who believe they are being invaded. For his first time as a producer-director, Jewison wanted to make a statement about shared humanity and the absurdity of conflict. However, a comedy that portrayed Russian soldiers as sympathetic, bumbling, and scared—rather than as one-dimensional villains—was a massive gamble. The studio, United Artists, was understandably nervous about a film that humanized the enemy during a period of intense anti-communist sentiment.
Studio Panic and Political Pressure
As production went on, the studio's nerves began to fray. The very idea of the film was a provocation. The U.S. Navy refused to lend a submarine for the production, offended by the script's suggestion that they would be unaware of a Soviet sub so close to shore. Jewison had to use a mockup that had been built for another film. The political climate was so charged that making a "plea for coexistence," as Jewison put it, was seen as deeply controversial. The fear in the executive suites was palpable: would the film be seen as pro-Soviet propaganda? Would it flop with audiences conditioned to see Russians as the enemy? At one point, the legendary actor John Wayne confronted Jewison at a party, angrily asking if he was a "pinko" for making the film. This atmosphere of fear led the studio to seriously consider shelving the completed movie, worried it was too politically radioactive to ever see a profit or, worse, that it could cause a political firestorm.
The Director's Fight for His Film
Jewison, however, refused to let his film die. He believed deeply in its message that humanity could triumph over politically manufactured hysteria. The story pivots on the moment the paranoid townspeople and the terrified sailors must set aside their differences to rescue a child who has fallen from a clock tower. This scene encapsulates the film's entire purpose. To prove the movie worked, Jewison orchestrated preview screenings. He needed to show the studio that audiences wouldn't react with anger, but with laughter and empathy. According to his autobiography, the reaction was overwhelmingly positive. People weren't offended; they were delighted. The laughter in the theater was the ultimate proof that Jewison's risky bet on shared humanity was a winner. The film didn't just mock Cold War paranoia; it offered a cathartic release from it.
Vindication in Washington and Moscow
Upon its release, The Russians Are Coming, the Russians Are Coming was a massive critical and commercial success. It earned four Academy Award nominations, including Best Picture and a Best Actor nod for Alan Arkin in his first major film role. More importantly, the film had a real-world impact that stunned its creators. According to Jewison, a copy was requested by and screened in the Kremlin. He was later invited to Moscow, where he witnessed Soviet filmmakers weeping at the film's message of peace, moved that an American movie would portray them with such compassion. Back in the U.S., Senator Ernest Gruening praised the film in a speech to Congress. The movie that was once deemed too risky to release had become a surprising and gentle instrument of cultural diplomacy, proving that sometimes the most powerful statements are made with laughter.
